Jane Camp: Creating Tribal Crossroads

1970 was an auspicious year for Walter and me. That was the year we both made a big move--I moved from London and Walter from Santa Monica--setting off on a path that would eventually bring us together at our farm on Foster Mountain, east of Willits. I had been working at the Zoological Society of London, and came to the Bay Area to manage a private collection of rare birds. Walter left his music business--McCabe's Guitar Shop in Santa Monica--to find a calmer spot in which to raise children. He was married to Michelle Camp, who had recently become pregnant with their first child, and they decided that L.A. (at the end of the sixties) was no place to raise a family. So, following the exhortations of Dylan, Country Joe and the Fish and other prophets of that time, they drove north looking for land. Walter had two requirements: The land must have plenty of water, and it must be far enough away from roads so as not to hear traffic. The result of his search was a beautiful mountainous watershed sandwiched between two enormous cattle ranches--with nothing audible save waterfalls and songbirds! During the early seventies, I was busy unifying a bird collection for a trial lawyer in the Bay Area. This often meant traveling to such exotic places as Rawalpindi and Kathmandu in search of male blood pheasants or tragopans to mate with the lonesome females back home. This lawyer also had me help prepare witnesses for one of his large trials. This was like putting on a high school play--organizing testimony, deciding what each person should wear and how they should act. My mother had been in show business since the age of three--in vaudeville, pantomime and variety--so the theatrical side of a trial held a certain appeal for me. I subsequently worked on other trials and also became involved in paralegal work. Once the bird collection was complete--all the species mated and breeding to ensure their survival--my boss retired from his law practice to manage the collection himself. I worked freelance for some of his associates and continued to travel for zoos and private collectors--observing, reporting and lecturing about certain bird species living in remote areas. Meanwhile, Michelle and Walter were working on their property. Homesteaded during Woodrow Wilson's term in the early l900s, the land had been used as a seasonal hunting grounds. The aged one-room log cabin needed plenty of work as well as the addition of a bathroom and septic tank. Walter also began clearing a perfect spot he found for his garden. Having spent time at an English boarding school during his teens, he had absorbed an appreciation for both the formal and cottage aspects of the English garden. He spent many evenings dreaming of the glories to come. Michelle and Walter went their separate ways during the mid-seventies. Walter remained on the land, and focused his energy on raising their two boys, Tomki and Blaise. From an early age they, in turn, helped their dad clear brush and stack firewood. When I met Walter in the mid-eighties, I was managing a law firm three days a week, and working with birds and horses the remainder of my time. The garden was in place by that time, but Walter's enthusiasm was somewhat stalled for want of a partner to share and participate in the vision. Our energies blended well, and the dream was soon back on track--expanded by my grandiose ideas of having large gatherings on the land. I could envision the wonderful shows my mother would have produced here, and wondered if I could succeed in her stead. I lamented that I had not paid more attention to my father's knowledge of gardening--all I could really remember was being asked to help him dig a wretched old bed when I was trying to slip out the door to a horse show! But I must have gained something by osmosis. I read up on organic gardening, attended a winter class given by Robin Jeavons, and set to work digging those wretched beds. What you don't do properly the first time around, you have to do again sooner or later, right? I learned from a friend to garden by the phases of the moon, and embraced that philosophy completely. I needed all the help I could get. Having been an only child who talked to inanimate objects, it seemed natural for me to converse with the plants in our garden, share information with them, and enlist their help. I learned from them where and how they wanted to grow. Maybe carrots simply didn't want to grow here, but if I planted them there they would thrive. I also found that if I sang to the plants, they were much happier and healthier for it--me too! Walter cleaned out neighbors' goat and sheep barns each year to add organic material to the predominantly clay soil. In fact, on our first real date we mucked out a goat barn. He kept an eye on me, expecting that I would wilt like a hothouse flower, but we finished the goat barn in record time. 'Twas then I think he realized he might have a gem on his hands. Having 400 acres, a garden, orchard, pigs, sheep, ducks and chickens on an off-the-grid property, however, takes more than two people. For a few years we had seasonal help, but were constantly looking for just the right people. Weekend warriors came and went--people who were horrified when we put a shovel in their hand, or who didn't realize that corn doesn't just come from a Safeway can. We placed an ad in the Healdsburg Tribune seeking a couple to join us in making bricks, adding solar panels, finessing the waterwheel and generally embracing the "simple" life. The response was a deafening silence. However, a greater force was at work. Herb Caen had seen the ad, and simply loved it. He ran the entire ad in his column in the S.F. Chronicle in the spirit of "Hey, folks, can you believe this?" and we were inundated with letters from people wanting to join us. Hallelujah, Herb! He wanted to know how we got on with all these people, so we struck up a correspondence. He still had a hard time believing that people "out there do that kind of thing," but was nevertheless tickled to contribute to the community at Camp and Sons. A young woman from the Bay Area and her English husband, Midge Willcocks, joined us. Midge had previously worked in London for a well-known landscaping firm whose customers had included members of the royal family. He was well-versed in current gardening techniques, possessed an artist's eye and was a skilled brick mason. Midge immediately recognized this mountain as his home. Unfortunately, his wife did not thrive on mountain life, so in time she left. But three people can certainly achieve a lot more than two. Walter and Midge added trout ponds to the garden and a stage in the round--all built from bricks made with our own soil. A part of our vision was to attract entertaining characters here to enrich our community life. Shortly after moving to the mountain full-time (I commuted from the Bay Area for four years), I became involved in sound, lighting and stage management for the Willits Community Theatre. This was much more fun than putting on trials! Much to my mother's chagrin, I've always preferred life behind the scenes. I later became a member of the board, and as a fund-raising committee member I conceived "The Mountain Moonlight Extravaganza"--an event first held in our garden and on stage in 1993. I was killing two birds with this stone--raising money for the theater, and testing our ability to provide a good time for a large group of people in the garden. The Extravaganza worked splendidly, and is now in its fifth year. Its afternoon entertainment consists of jugglers, fortune-tellers, foot-rubbers, wandering minstrels and a treasure hunt in the garden with hors d'oeuvres, wines and beers donated by local cellars. Dinner is catered by local businesses, then as night falls and the moon rises, a formal cabaret begins on stage, featuring local and imported artistes. Since the late eighties, groups of Sufis and Buddhists have held annual retreats on the mountain. Since these retreats demand seclusion, the people who attend them are perfect guests. They require almost nothing except campsites and the meadow at the top of the mountain for private meditation. All went well for them until one year when sheriff's deputies cut the boundary wire, came onto our property and rousted a Sufi group at dawn--at gunpoint. The observed "suspicious behavior" of the Sufis was one young man running to dinner after hearing the sounding gong. One deputy held the Sufis at gunpoint while another went through their bags. They found Sufi meditation books--no illegal substances. No apologies were made. When we later filed a complaint against the Sheriff's Department, we were informed that no crime had been committed (by law enforcement). The matter was closed--our tax money at work! Walter's nephew, Allen, who had a business in the Haight Ashbury district in San Fransciso, told us there was an increasing need among young city people for a place to gather to exchange ideas, dance and play music. They had sunset parties on the dunes of Ocean Beach, but their numbers were growing. These people in their twenties and thirties connected with each other on a tribal basis. Not as political as the sixties generation, these young people were more concerned with raising money for local causes or to help someone in special need. They embraced the philosophy of "act locally" to eventually "change globally." Our farm hosted the first of its "Tribal Future" gatherings in the early nineties. Parties with dancing to computerized music have often been lumped together under the term "rave." These sometimes include an eclectic mixture of drugs, but for the safety of all concerned, we have a "no alcohol/no drugs" clause in our contract. Almost 100 people attended this first event. They camped in and around the garden, shared ideas, held yoga classes during the day and danced most of the night. The producers of that event were disappointed since very little money had been raised, but the attendees' enthusiasm was high. For Walter and me, the exchange of ideas with the young people was nothing short of inspirational. These young professionals--store-owners, record producers, and computer programmers--discussed and compared their philosophy and lifestyles with ours of the sixties. We were delighted to have found each other. It was soon apparent to me that our farm could provide a retreat haven for these folks. By the following year, word had spread throughout their community. Tribal Future II was well attended, and raised money for several causes. Later, we were inundated by more people who wanted to throw benefit gatherings. We quickly assessed which groups were best organized and which causes were nearest our hearts. We choose four or five of these groups to work with annually. During the past couple of years, we have held benefits for RAINN (the Rape and Incest National Network), Food Not Bombs, Earth First!, The Human Rights Monitoring Project, The Mendocino Environmental Center and Native American Rights' Alliance. Our annual "Friends and Family" event brings together an extraordinary group of people whose core consists of approximately twenty-five computer science graduates from Stanford. Their friendship in school inspired regular reunions. Now in their thirties, they still gather--bringing with them their children, parents and friends. The sight of BMWs, Porsches and Jaguars parked over our hillside, together with state-of-the-art campsites boasting magnificent tents, flags and, in some cases, tables, silverware and gourmet meals, is quite breathtaking. The scene has the appearance of a medieval gathering. Their campout includes yoga and tai chi on the lawns, visits to our labyrinth (outlined in river rock and irises, with a meditation rock in the center) or mud-hole (ideal for truly glorious mud baths that are great for the skin) and dancing to computer-generated music. Their music is interspersed with riffs from classical symphonies, Sinatra, the Beatles, whale songs and other sounds that have impressed them during their lifetime. Certain members of the group who specialize in lasers put on an incredible light show. The whole effect is that of a very sophisticated son et lumiere! The characters in this group are incredibly diverse. Their conversations on obscure topics would lead the uninitiated to believe they were listening to a foreign language. One of Walter's sons has just graduated in computer science and the other is working with computers while going to school part time. I invited them to the Friends and Family event this summer. They were awestruck by some of the people they met, and informed us that many of the comp-sci cognoscenti (top connoisseurs) were in our garden. Did we realize that one of them had just been on the cover of Forbes magazine and that another was one of the editors of Wired? We, of course, had no clue. Our concerns at the time were, Will the solar-powered electrical system support all these lasers?! These young people are interested in nurturing their spiritual side, and are most grateful for the chance to relax in this quiet, clean mountain environment in Mendocino County. Respectful of the mountain and its gardens, they set up altars to honor their visions, heroes, heroines and/or recipients of the event's proceeds. Everyone brings something for the altar. Prior to the evening's dancing, a meditation is held around the stage. Close to 500 people hold hands, are smudged with sage smoke, give thanks for their bounty and pray for those less fortunate. The energy level is amazing, and the fusion of people, plants, and trees seems almost palpable. At the "Spiral Project" event (by women from the Bay Area), a guild of bodyworkers provided massage and Reiki treatments for their guests. My eighty-two-year-old aunt experienced a healing session in which a didgeridoo was played. She described the feeling of having the sound resonate throughout her body, and came out of that session with a big smile on her face! In short, folks from the Bay Area truly enjoy the exchange and the spiritual feeling here in rural Mendocino County. We provide a valuable service to each other. Since event producers often contract with local businesses for catering, massage, herbal oils and salves, these associations also help to spread the wealth within our local community. For more on Camp & Sons: Jane & Walter Camp overnight camping/lodging, see Travel, Recreation & Lodging in Sojourn's Directory.

1970 was an auspicious year for Walter and me. That was the year we both made a big move--I moved from London and Walter from Santa Monica--setting off on a path that would eventually bring us together at our farm on Foster Mountain, east of Willits.
     I had been working at the Zoological Society of London, and came to the Bay Area to manage a private collection of rare birds. Walter left his music business--McCabe's Guitar Shop in Santa Monica--to find a calmer spot in which to raise children. He was married to Michelle Camp, who had recently become pregnant with their first child, and they decided that L.A. (at the end of the sixties) was no place to raise a family. So, following the exhortations of Dylan, Country Joe and the Fish and other prophets of that time, they drove north looking for land.
     Walter had two requirements: The land must have plenty of water, and it must be far enough away from roads so as not to hear traffic. The result of his search was a beautiful mountainous watershed sandwiched between two enormous cattle ranches--with nothing audible save waterfalls and songbirds!
     During the early seventies, I was busy unifying a bird collection for a trial lawyer in the Bay Area. This often meant traveling to such exotic places as Rawalpindi and Kathmandu in search of male blood pheasants or tragopans to mate with the lonesome females back home. This lawyer also had me help prepare witnesses for one of his large trials. This was like putting on a high school play--organizing testimony, deciding what each person should wear and how they should act. My mother had been in show business since the age of three--in vaudeville, pantomime and variety--so the theatrical side of a trial held a certain appeal for me. I subsequently worked on other trials and also became involved in paralegal work.

Once the bird collection was complete--all the species mated and breeding to ensure their survival--my boss retired from his law practice to manage the collection himself. I worked freelance for some of his associates and continued to travel for zoos and private collectors--observing, reporting and lecturing about certain bird species living in remote areas.
Meanwhile, Michelle and Walter were working on their property. Homesteaded during Woodrow Wilson's term in the early l900s, the land had been used as a seasonal hunting grounds. The aged one-room log cabin needed plenty of work as well as the addition of a bathroom and septic tank. Walter also began clearing a perfect spot he found for his garden. Having spent time at an English boarding school during his teens, he had absorbed an appreciation for both the formal and cottage aspects of the English garden. He spent many evenings dreaming of the glories to come.
Michelle and Walter went their separate ways during the mid-seventies. Walter remained on the land, and focused his energy on raising their two boys, Tomki and Blaise. From an early age they, in turn, helped their dad clear brush and stack firewood.

When I met Walter in the mid-eighties, I was managing a law firm three days a week, and working with birds and horses the remainder of my time. The garden was in place by that time, but Walter's enthusiasm was somewhat stalled for want of a partner to share and participate in the vision. Our energies blended well, and the dream was soon back on track--expanded by my grandiose ideas of having large gatherings on the land. I could envision the wonderful shows my mother would have produced here, and wondered if I could succeed in her stead.
I lamented that I had not paid more attention to my father's knowledge of gardening--all I could really remember was being asked to help him dig a wretched old bed when I was trying to slip out the door to a horse show! But I must have gained something by osmosis. I read up on organic gardening, attended a winter class given by Robin Jeavons, and set to work digging those wretched beds. What you don't do properly the first time around, you have to do again sooner or later, right? I learned from a friend to garden by the phases of the moon, and embraced that philosophy completely. I needed all the help I could get.

Having been an only child who talked to inanimate objects, it seemed natural for me to converse with the plants in our garden, share information with them, and enlist their help. I learned from them where and how they wanted to grow. Maybe carrots simply didn't want to grow here, but if I planted them there they would thrive. I also found that if I sang to the plants, they were much happier and healthier for it--me too! Walter cleaned out neighbors' goat and sheep barns each year to add organic material to the predominantly clay soil. In fact, on our first real date we mucked out a goat barn. He kept an eye on me, expecting that I would wilt like a hothouse flower, but we finished the goat barn in record time. 'Twas then I think he realized he might have a gem on his hands.

Having 400 acres, a garden, orchard, pigs, sheep, ducks and chickens on an off-the-grid property, however, takes more than two people. For a few years we had seasonal help, but were constantly looking for just the right people. Weekend warriors came and went--people who were horrified when we put a shovel in their hand, or who didn't realize that corn doesn't just come from a Safeway can.
We placed an ad in the Healdsburg Tribune seeking a couple to join us in making bricks, adding solar panels, finessing the waterwheel and generally embracing the "simple" life. The response was a deafening silence. However, a greater force was at work. Herb Caen had seen the ad, and simply loved it. He ran the entire ad in his column in the S.F. Chronicle in the spirit of "Hey, folks, can you believe this?" and we were inundated with letters from people wanting to join us. Hallelujah, Herb! He wanted to know how we got on with all these people, so we struck up a correspondence. He still had a hard time believing that people "out there do that kind of thing," but was nevertheless tickled to contribute to the community at Camp and Sons.
A young woman from the Bay Area and her English husband, Midge Willcocks, joined us. Midge had previously worked in London for a well-known landscaping firm whose customers had included members of the royal family. He was well-versed in current gardening techniques, possessed an artist's eye and was a skilled brick mason. Midge immediately recognized this mountain as his home. Unfortunately, his wife did not thrive on mountain life, so in time she left. But three people can certainly achieve a lot more than two. Walter and Midge added trout ponds to the garden and a stage in the round--all built from bricks made with our own soil.

Importing a Traveling Cast of Characters
Face Painting at the 1998 Mountain Moonlight Extravaganza A part of our vision was to attract entertaining characters here to enrich our community life. Shortly after moving to the mountain full-time (I commuted from the Bay Area for four years), I became involved in sound, lighting and stage management for the Willits Community Theatre. This was much more fun than putting on trials! Much to my mother's chagrin, I've always preferred life behind the scenes. I later became a member of the board, and as a fund-raising committee member I conceived "The Mountain Moonlight Extravaganza"--an event first held in our garden and on stage in 1993. I was killing two birds with this stone--raising money for the theater, and testing our ability to provide a good time for a large group of people in the garden.
The Extravaganza worked splendidly, and is now in its fifth year. Its afternoon entertainment consists of jugglers, fortune-tellers, foot-rubbers, wandering minstrels and a treasure hunt in the garden with hors d'oeuvres, wines and beers donated by local cellars. Dinner is catered by local businesses, then as night falls and the moon rises, a formal cabaret begins on stage, featuring local and imported artistes.
Since the late eighties, groups of Sufis and Buddhists have held annual retreats on the mountain. Since these retreats demand seclusion, the people who attend them are perfect guests. They require almost nothing except campsites and the meadow at the top of the mountain for private meditation. All went well for them until one year when sheriff's deputies cut the boundary wire, came onto our property and rousted a Sufi group at dawn--at gunpoint. The observed "suspicious behavior" of the Sufis was one young man running to dinner after hearing the sounding gong. One deputy held the Sufis at gunpoint while another went through their bags. They found Sufi meditation books--no illegal substances. No apologies were made. When we later filed a complaint against the Sheriff's Department, we were informed that no crime had been committed (by law enforcement). The matter was closed--our tax money at work!

Walter's nephew, Allen, who had a business in the Haight Ashbury district in San Fransciso, told us there was an increasing need among young city people for a place to gather to exchange ideas, dance and play music. They had sunset parties on the dunes of Ocean Beach, but their numbers were growing. These people in their twenties and thirties connected with each other on a tribal basis. Not as political as the sixties generation, these young people were more concerned with raising money for local causes or to help someone in special need. They embraced the philosophy of "act locally" to eventually "change globally."
Our farm hosted the first of its "Tribal Future" gatherings in the early nineties. Parties with dancing to computerized music have often been lumped together under the term "rave." These sometimes include an eclectic mixture of drugs, but for the safety of all concerned, we have a "no alcohol/no drugs" clause in our contract. Almost 100 people attended this first event. They camped in and around the garden, shared ideas, held yoga classes during the day and danced most of the night. The producers of that event were disappointed since very little money had been raised, but the attendees' enthusiasm was high. For Walter and me, the exchange of ideas with the young people was nothing short of inspirational. These young professionals--store-owners, record producers, and computer programmers--discussed and compared their philosophy and lifestyles with ours of the sixties. We were delighted to have found each other. It was soon apparent to me that our farm could provide a retreat haven for these folks. By the following year, word had spread throughout their community. Tribal Future II was well attended, and raised money for several causes.
Later, we were inundated by more people who wanted to throw benefit gatherings. We quickly assessed which groups were best organized and which causes were nearest our hearts. We choose four or five of these groups to work with annually. During the past couple of years, we have held benefits for RAINN (the Rape and Incest National Network), Food Not Bombs, Earth First!, The Human Rights Monitoring Project, The Mendocino Environmental Center and Native American Rights' Alliance.

Across Toad Pond. Photo by Liz Haapanen Our annual "Friends and Family" event brings together an extraordinary group of people whose core consists of approximately twenty-five computer science graduates from Stanford. Their friendship in school inspired regular reunions. Now in their thirties, they still gather--bringing with them their children, parents and friends. The sight of BMWs, Porsches and Jaguars parked over our hillside, together with state-of-the-art campsites boasting magnificent tents, flags and, in some cases, tables, silverware and gourmet meals, is quite breathtaking. The scene has the appearance of a medieval gathering. Their campout includes yoga and tai chi on the lawns, visits to our labyrinth (outlined in river rock and irises, with a meditation rock in the center) or mud-hole (ideal for truly glorious mud baths that are great for the skin) and dancing to computer-generated music. Their music is interspersed with riffs from classical symphonies, Sinatra, the Beatles, whale songs and other sounds that have impressed them during their lifetime. Certain members of the group who specialize in lasers put on an incredible light show. The whole effect is that of a very sophisticated son et lumiere! The characters in this group are incredibly diverse. Their conversations on obscure topics would lead the uninitiated to believe they were listening to a foreign language.
One of Walter's sons has just graduated in computer science and the other is working with computers while going to school part time. I invited them to the Friends and Family event this summer. They were awestruck by some of the people they met, and informed us that many of the comp-sci cognoscenti (top connoisseurs) were in our garden. Did we realize that one of them had just been on the cover of Forbes magazine and that another was one of the editors of Wired? We, of course, had no clue. Our concerns at the time were, Will the solar-powered electrical system support all these lasers?!
These young people are interested in nurturing their spiritual side, and are most grateful for the chance to relax in this quiet, clean mountain environment in Mendocino County. Respectful of the mountain and its gardens, they set up altars to honor their visions, heroes, heroines and/or recipients of the event's proceeds. Everyone brings something for the altar. Prior to the evening's dancing, a meditation is held around the stage. Close to 500 people hold hands, are smudged with sage smoke, give thanks for their bounty and pray for those less fortunate. The energy level is amazing, and the fusion of people, plants, and trees seems almost palpable.

At the "Spiral Project" event (by women from the Bay Area), a guild of bodyworkers provided massage and Reiki treatments for their guests. My eighty-two-year-old aunt experienced a healing session in which a didgeridoo was played. She described the feeling of having the sound resonate throughout her body, and came out of that session with a big smile on her face! In short, folks from the Bay Area truly enjoy the exchange and the spiritual feeling here in rural Mendocino County. We provide a valuable service to each other. Since event producers often contract with local businesses for catering, massage, herbal oils and salves, these associations also help to spread the wealth within our local community.

For more on Camp & Sons: Jane & Walter Camp overnight camping/lodging, see Travel, Recreation & Lodging in Sojourn's Directory.