To many who visit the property, Wildwood is a place that simply feels right; a place that was meant to be. 

A true home. 

It is a big beautiful place infused with the ineffable.   Big and beautiful enough, it would seem, to cradle the profound.

Through modern history, Wildwood’s redwood forest has been storied with fortuitous happenstance and inexplicable turns of fate.   The ground itself, in fact, can feel fated – as if the land and the work that is done on the land inform each other, complement each other.  Exist for each other.

Not so poetic, however, is the land’s origins – as a chicken ranch.  “Before the ecstasy, the laundry,” to paraphrase the Zen saying.   Given the isolation and attendant hardships the property can yet present, the phrase is as apt today as it was decades ago.

The Beginnings

Wildwood was homesteaded around 1900, twenty years after the first land deed was issued on October 9, 1880.   The original fence and an orchard yet remain down the hill from the main house.   The property was owned by the Purdy and then Grider families.  Widow Jesse Grider was sole owner of the property in 1946 when a mountaintop house was constructed (the current kitchen and dining room).  Grider sold to Juanita and Vernon Corley in 1954.

Chicken coops were built (the current conference room) by the Corley’s, who owned the property from 1954 to 1968.   Juanita ran the chicken and egg business, while Vernon toiled in the Guerneville lumber mills.

1960s Guerneville was a fringe hangout for the hippie culture, but by the 1970s the town blossomed into the west coast’s premier gay vacation spot.  In summer, crowds packed the string of offbeat villages, cabins, cottages, resorts and bars along the Russian River.  In Guerneville, there was freedom to be without judgment, without hassle.

The adventurous navigated a six mile dirt road to a mountain retreat called Wildwood – now owned and operated by Jerry Geller and Ken Sullivan, who added a pool and Jacuzzi in 1977.   The living was basic:  tent cabins with hotdogs and beans for supper.   But the views were stunning for nature boys yearning to commune with something other than a tequila sunrise down at the Rainbow Cattle Company on Main street.

To skirt zoning rules, Wildwood was termed a “gun club,” but it was more like a sex club, says John Calhoun, a former caretaker.   “Sort of like a bathhouse in the woods.”   Falcon Studios shot several porn movies there in the late 1970s and late 1980s – one filmed in the barn down from Julie Andrews Point.

A Dutch immigrant named Nicholaas Hocke recognized the property’s true potential, and in January 1977, traded Ken and Jerry his San Francisco apartment building for Wildwood. By that summer, resort guests got more than roasted hotdogs after romps in the woods.

“There were gourmet meals, wine with dinner, candle light, a roaring fire, classical music, piano and sometimes a violinist,” remembers Tim McNary, who with John Calhoun staffed the property for nearly two decades through the 1980s and 90s under Nicholaas’ ownership.

“With Nicholaas, there was a feeling of home and family, which many gay men had never had,” says Tim.  “He was keenly interested in the idea of men transforming each other, and in providing an alternative to bars and discos.

“Nicholaas was stoic, a king of the mountain top type.  I believe he was a stockbroker – tall, about 6’ 2” with grey hair.   He was somewhat rigorous, and had a vision of what Wildwood could become for the community.”

John Calhoun remembers Nicholaas as a “taskmaster with a good sense of humor.  He didn’t believe in idle hands – breaks were limited to 45 minutes.   He had been on Werner Erhard’s staff as an in-house counselor.  It was arequirement to take the EST training if you were going to be on the Wildwood staff.”

San Francisco-based Erhard Seminars Training (EST) was popular in the 1970s.  A large group awareness training, it was an outgrowth of the human potential movement of the 1960s.

“Nicholaas’ whole intention,” says John,  “was to change the image of Wildwood – away from being a bathhouse in the woods.”

While Nicholaas, Tim and John enjoyed the otherworldly charm of the property’s 211 acres, it came at a steep price.   “Every winter we asked, ‘Do we stay open, or do we close the door?’” says Tim.   “The rainfall in a redwood forest can top 150 inches a year.”

Floods were common.  No power for a solid month was common.  The winding dirt road to town could be closed for weeks.   And roving bands of boars trampled gardens.  Even in summer months, nature could be unforgiving for a property that is yet reliant on springs 200 vertical feet down the mountain.

“Boars would rout up the piping, or water would just get scarce,” remembers Tim.  “We’d shut down the water to the showers, and then the gardens – sometimes the toilets.   There was always a spirit of cooperation and conservation among everyone – including the guests.”

Under Tim and John, numerous projects were created – the beginnings of the current conference room (the former chicken coop), the guest room wing, gardens and fruit trees, the walk-in refrigerator, the gazebo, a drip system, outdoor lighting, pool resurfacing, a renovation of the water system, a small deck with hot tub, the current offices (Nicholaas’ former living quarters), health code improvements and extensive and ongoing maintenance. 

Other staff, caretakers, volunteers and board members leant money, management skills, and labor.   Creating and sustaining Wildwood has always been an enormous community effort.

Wildwood and the War

While the land was unforgiving, the times were more so - to the breaking point.  By 1985, over 12,600 people had died from AIDS in the U.S., many from the Bay Area, two hours south of Wildwood.   That same year, Nicholaas adjusted his vision, and began catering exclusively to groups of 20 or more – many of them in the final stages of AIDS.

Shanti, Stop AIDS, ARIS, and the AIDS Fund routinely brought AIDS patients to Wildwood who were “getting ready to die,” says Tim.  “It was intense."

“I remember ten men in wheelchairs with IV drips feeding into their veins, keeping them barely alive – while they enjoyed the view.  They were so happy to be there.  So relieved to escape a sterile hospital ward.   Some had come up for an assisted exit.  Wildwood had become a place of constant grieving.”

The ashes of some of those men and others infuse the soil at Wildwood – and all are remembered in spirit at the Memorial Grove, a one acre redwood site created in 2002.  The Grove is a place for meditation, ceremonies, and features stones that honor those deeply connected to the property.

“Sometimes there would be 60 to 70 men with AIDS on the property, all there for their last hurrah,” says John Calhoun.   “In the 1980s, Wildwood became a healing center, and it’s remained that ever since.”

Author Louise Hay led a weekend intensive at Wildwood in the Spring of 1985.  (Her books include Heal Your Body, 1976;  and You Can Heal Your Life, 1984.)    By 1988, Hay’s support group “The Hayride” had grown to a weekly gathering of 800 HIV-positive men and women. 

Wildwood also attracted author Elizabeth Kubler Ross and her pioneering work on death and dying.  (Among her numerous books:  On Death and Dying, 1970;  and  AIDS:  The Ultimate Challenge, 1987.)  

“She held four or five weekend workshops for patients, nurses and doctors,” says John.   “Her groups and others would give Nicholaas a crystal in gratitude for preserving Wildwood’s beauty.”   A mobile has since been made of the offerings, and now hangs in a dining room window as a remembrance of Wildwood’s light and healing presence during that dark era.

Ground Zero for those dying in San Francisco was San Francisco General Hospital’s Ward 5A.   Nurse Diane Jones says Ward 5A held an annual Wildwood staff retreat eight times during the 1980s.   “The food was delicious, the hot tub and pool were relaxing – the hikes and views – it was all healing for the nurses and doctors,” says Diane. “Wildwood was a desperately needed respite from the war.”

Nicholaas himself died from AIDS in his late fifties, in 1989.  He left the property in a trust to his heirs in Holland, with an allowance that Tim and John could steward the property as long as they wanted - as long as the resort was viable.

Spirit Touches Earth

Body Electric, founded by Joseph Kramer in 1984, held its first week-long intensive retreat at Wildwood in 1990, and quickly became the property’s main client.   Body Electric is a school of the healing arts that employs touch, conscious breath and the healing potential of erotic energy.

“We were doing daring work,” says author Mark Thompson (Gay Spirit:  Myth and Meaning, 1987; Leatherfolk, 1991:  Gay Soul, 1994;  among other books.)  Mark began visiting Wildwood in the late 1970s and nearly two decades later, Body Electric approached him about launching a workshop. 

“I created a course that integrated shadow sexual material, which I called Dark Eros (Body Electric’s current Power, Surrender and Intimacy series).  I also urged an offshoot of the Radical Faeries that I belong to - Black Leather Wings - to use the property.   The queer roots of that property go back two, and now we’re on the third generation. 

“Wildwood is a highly significant place for our community.”

Body Electric’s groundbreaking work with erotic and relational alchemy largely solidified Wildwood  as a crucible for profound transformational work.   The property became a natural place for ritual and marking life passages – the earth, the sky, the air all felt rarified.   Spending any time there, you simply began to glow.  Together.   Wildwood had become the template for a singular, progressive idea:  men could heal each other. 

Other groups have found and share similar ground at the property – yoga retreats, re-birthing and breath seminars, an annual men’s festival, massage groups and Burning Man organizers who hold annual planning retreats, to name a few.  Numerous communities use the property for retreats, weddings, anniversaries, reunions – and for just a weekend away in a sublime sanctuary.

All are magnetized by Wildwood’s uncommon beauty.  The property’s inhabitants include the world’s largest coastal live oak tree, with a circumference of 411 inches.   This “Great Tree” is 400 years old, with eight spreading trunks.  An albino redwood near the lodge is one of about 30 known albinos in the 1.2 million acres of redwood forest.   Wildwood is home to the pacific giant salamander – the largest in North America, and the pileated woodpecker, the second largest in North America.

Wildwood’s signature attraction – coast redwoods strung along a wildlife corridor painted with morning fog – can grow to be 2,000 years old, and are the tallest trees in the world (the record is 379.1 feet).   Wildwood’s specimens are between 200-300 feet, and the oldest are near 500 years old.   Countless other specimens are found along the property’s trail system, including wild roses, clarkia, calypso orchids, big leaf maple, madrone, manzanita, bay laurel, Douglas fir . . .

Wildwood had always felt rare – the storybook views instantly transport, and the starry nights shot with streaks of light feel deeply connective.  The mind clears and empties;  what remains is a sense of deep and permanent existence.

A New Chapter

In 1998 John Calhoun left the property, and Tim McNary realized he could not manage the land by himself - given both men had become expert gardeners, managers, marketers, cooks, dish washers, janitors, electricians, plumbers and carpenters. Nicholaas Hocke‘s Dutch heirs decided to sell the 211 acres.

In December 1998, Tim told Body Electric’s then current owners - Ken Oakley and Collin Brown – that the property would soon be sold.  “If it wasn’t for Tim, we wouldn’t have known it was for sale,” says Ken.  “We wouldn’t have had a chance.”

Collin began a search for alternative resorts.  “When I looked around at other properties, I truly realized what a phenomenal place the land was to work in,“ says Collin.  “It was clear:  there was no way to replace Wildwood.”

Collin took the leap – and wrote an urgent letter to Body Electric alumni – hundreds of men with a deep tie to the property - a place that harbored the most intense and life-changing events in their lives.  Scores of men replied with generous donations that quickly totaled in the tens of thousands of dollars.   Still, a far cry from the purchase price:  $900,000.

Enter Bill Campbell Carpenter.   A retired attorney in his 70s, Bill had suddenly received a diagnosis of cancer that same month, December 1998.  He had a few months to live.   Bill had done several Body Electric intensives earlier that year, “and was really touched by the place,” says Ken who received a phone call from Bill in January, 1999.

“He told me he had a significant amount of money,” says Ken.  “The next day he said he could give us $25,000.  ‘Wow!’ we thought.  ‘$25,000!’

“A few days later Bill called back saying ‘I have more than I thought – more like $75,000 or $80,000.’  The next week, he said $150,000.  The week after that, it was $250,000.  The week after that, $400,000.   He knew he could die any day, and was furiously going through his will, portioning it out to friends and family.  Fortunately his ‘residual amount’ for Wildwood kept skyrocketing.” 

December 1998 was also – fortuitous for Wildwood - the height of the dot com bubble.

Collin quickly formed the non-profit Wildwood Conservation Foundation to steward the property. “Bids on the property were opened on Friday, and closed on Monday,” says Collin.   “There were five bidders, including us.  We had to prove we had the cash to be in the bidding.  There were last minute checks in the mail, a huge loan from a friend in Tokyo - it came together.”

Bidding had opened at $825,000.  “The terms were cash, as is, and a close within 30 days,” says Collin.   “Bidding was closing at 5 p.m., so we bid at 4:50 - $900,000 on March 9, 1999.

“Then we had to actually raise all that cash – in actuality, not just on paper.  There was a groundswell of generosity – more loans, contributions, bequests.  Other board members and the community helped navigate the daunting financial and legal hurdles.  It was a huge team effort.”

The Foundation closed on the property on April 9, 1999.   Ten days later, Bill Campbell Carpenter died at his home in Nantucket, off the coast of Massachusetts.

“Looking back, Tim and myself were really placeholders for Wildwood, keeping it until the right people could take it to the next level,” says John Calhoun.  “We’re thrilled with the way it’s been handled – we know Nicholaas would be too.”

Securing a Bright Future

Wildwood had been secured.  Finding a way to operate and manage the property became top priority.    The board navigated administrative and legal issues and experimented with management structures.    By January, 2006 Wildwood Conservation Foundation had become the sole steward of the land.

Improvement projects intensified during the first five years.  A yurt was constructed in 2001, and the conference room - which Tim and John had initially built back in 1988 - was fully remodeled and added onto in Spring of 2002.   Six tent platforms were added in the lower grove in 2001.  The dining room sun deck was replaced, and countless smaller projects completed – along with constant attention to an eternal list of maintenance projects.

It was a community of men who secured Wildwood – as has always been the case, says Ken and Collin.  Through the decades, men who’ve benefited from the land have lent the property considerable financial loans, and have done the back breaking labor necessary to keep the grounds and buildings up to date.

“People just show up,” says Collin.  “They keep things happening for very little money.”

 An annual fall gathering began in 2001, which was initially named the Donors’ Retreat - and then the Stakeholders’ Gathering.  By 2006 the concept was expanded to include a larger community of men, and the Wildwood Men’s Festival was born.

The Wildwood Conservation Foundation board continues to broaden the scope of the property, seeking out crucial rental income from diverse groups, many whose mission aligns with Wildwood.

In January, 2007, an ambitious 20 year plan was approved - to secure Wildwood as a West Coast healing center that magnetizes cutting-edge leaders in the fields of personal growth and spiritual transformation.  Solid endowment and land acquisition goals also were set to establish the land as a sanctuary for ecosystems and people.

Having successfully steered the property into the 21st Century, the Wildwood Conservation Foundation’s main goal is to now preserve the acreage as a majestic natural sanctuary for those in the 22nd century and beyond. 

- Daniel Foster, 2007