This Oklahoma 'Playground of the Southwest' Has Some of the Oldest Mountains on Earth, Here's Why It's No Longer a National Park

Long before the National Park Service took shape, the foothills of the Arbuckle Mountains in south-central Oklahoma were populated by Indigenous people who lived off the fertile land for centuries. Paleo-Indians dwelled here in 600 A.D., followed by nations who were relocated via the Trail of Tears and allotted land in Oklahoma Territory. Chickasaws and Choctaws, who shared the southern third of the territory, thrived in this region, basking in the same wellspring of healing, sulphur-rich waters as the Woodland Indians who preceded them. 

After trickling down from the ancient Arbuckles, a heavily eroded range that ranks among the oldest mountains on Earth, the mineralized waters bubble up as springs and cascade through rocky creeks. Indigenous nations first frequented the region for the restorative water, similar to that of more well-known oases like Hot Springs, Arkansas. But as is often the case in American history, the federal government took control of the sacred land to turn it into one of the country’s first national parks — one that would live in polarizing infamy for decades before getting recommissioned to better honor its Indigenous roots.  

In 1902, the Chickasaw and Choctaw nations sold their land — including 33 springs — to the federal government, to be preserved for the free recreational use of all people when hydrotherapy was all the rage. Thus marked the establishment of the Sulphur Springs Reservation, a park under the jurisdiction of the Department of the Interior, and one that predated the official founding of the National Park Service by 14 years. 

“The main attraction that inspired the creation of this park were the mineral water springs of the area,” explains Megan Wilkins, a park ranger and public affairs officer with Chickasaw National Recreation Area. “Many people came to areas like this to drink mineral water as a type of medicine, hoping it would treat a variety of ailments. The water here was believed to be good for digestive issues and nervousness.”  

The reservation was renamed Platt National Park in 1906, to honor Connecticut Senator Orville H. Platt, who authored the bill to designate it a national park — and the only one in Oklahoma. Meanwhile, Indigenous residents were relocated off their land as the government purchased and dismantled most buildings in order to prioritize and accommodate tourism. The only remaining building in the present-day town of Sulphur is the stone-clad park headquarters, known as the Platt Ranger Station. 

Upon its designation, despite being the smallest national park at the time, Platt National Park became one of the country’s most visited, prized for the same reasons that Indigenous people first flocked there centuries prior. Especially in the sweltering summer months, the babbling brooks and springs were a cooling reprieve, drawing road-trippers from near and far as the only national park for hundreds of miles. With enhanced infrastructure, like road improvements and community buildings, Platt National Park earned the nickname “the playground of the Southwest.” 

Over time, as modern medicine developed, recreation became the main source of tourism for the park. Compared to other, vaster national parks, like Yellowstone or Everglades, where geographic history and wildlife contribute to the greater draw, Platt National Park was a much-smaller park populated primarily by families who swam, hiked, camped, and fished. No longer frequented for the healing properties of the water, a tonal shift in travel and leisure meant new usage for a park that eventually surpassed one million annual visitors, flocking to Travertine Creek not for a cure, but to splash around at Little Niagara. 

“In the 1930s, a Civilian Conservation Corps camp was established in the park and made many changes to the area, including building the ‘waterfalls’ in the creek to create deeper spots to swim in,” Wilkins says. “In the 1960s, Arbuckle Dam was built to form Lake of the Arbuckles, around which Arbuckle Recreation Area was created, allowing for even more water recreation, this time with motorized recreation in mind.” Water has always been the draw, but what people were doing with it has changed.

“The folks in charge of the National Park Service in its early days were never terribly impressed with Platt and sought to have it turned over to the state several times over a number of decades,” Wilkins explains. “The state's congressional delegation, even with all the changes in people elected to those positions over the decades, wanted it to remain a national park, which also reflected the general feelings of the people of Oklahoma.” Thus, she adds, the Chickasaw Nation initially passed an official resolution in 1967 asking for Platt National Park to be renamed Chickasaw National Park. But the name still didn’t fit. 

To better emphasize its recreational opportunities, and to bring some honor back to the Indigenous people who paved the way, Platt National Park was combined with the nearby Arbuckle Recreation Area — including the popular Lake of the Arbuckles. It was then renamed the Chickasaw National Recreation Area in 1976. While this marked a technical demotion from the elite class of national parks, it still remains under the jurisdiction of the National Park Service, albeit with more of a focus on aquatic recreation. The results, as Wilkins explains, were a win-win-win.

“When folks started talking about combining the two areas officially, it made a lot of folks happy,” she says. “The National Park Service leadership liked the idea of this strange little national park in Oklahoma becoming a recreation area. The congressional delegation liked that it remained a federal area. Chickasaw Nation leadership like that it was being named in their honor. The local business community thought the recreation aspects would be more appealing to visitors and were pleased it was being made a recreation area where those uses would continue.” The park also grew larger than the sum of its two parts, since additional land was acquired to bridge the gap between the two areas, and visitors could recreate in ways — like water skiing — that are allowed in national recreation areas, but not national parks.

It also provided an opportunity to honor those who came before, like the Chickasaw people who were forced here, and who treasured its healing waters so much that they’d rather cede their land to government control than let it get diverted into private spas. The Chickasaw people took part in the re-designation process, and a long-term partnership with the National Park Service was formed, including sharing visitor center space and naming Chickasaw nation member Bill Wright as park superintendent. In the surrounding towns, most of the businesses are owned by the Chickasaw Nation, including its famed Artesian Hotel and Bedré chocolatiers, putting the area’s earliest settlers back in control of their rightful land. 

With its more fitting designation highlighting its recreation, it’s also allowed the Chickasaw Nation and the National Park Service to broaden expectations and show a new side of Oklahoma. “Many people think Oklahoma looks the same everywhere you go, which just isn't true at all,” Wilkins notes. “Here we sit on the knife's edge between the forest and the plains. We get all sorts of unusual combinations of plants and animals where eastern and western species overlap and where small pockets of ecosystems shift back and forth. We might not have geysers or giant mountains, but there is a quiet beauty here to enjoy all the same.”

From its earliest human origins, this medicinal region in Oklahoma has always been about restoration. It healed its first Indigenous settlers, and provided a lush oasis for visitors. Now, after displacement and erasure, and thanks to the collaborative efforts between the National Park Service and the Chickasaw Nation, this treasured land once again honors its healing past.