This is the second of a two part post. I'm going to try my best to make these readable without having to check the other posts, but here is the first one if you want to go back.
Bestie and I were at the Gila Hot Springs, a remote campground located on the Campbells' family owned property. To access our campground, we had to navigate through a literal farm where goats, horses, and chickens played. All in the high desert where the sagebrush, dust, and clay make a smell that Bestie and I know well--it's what Eastern Oregon was like. She drove us cautiously down the road and we asked ourselves, is this a family owned operation and if so, what the heck? Do they WANT people driving through their farm? Is this a place we will get murdered and eaten? We were intrigued by either scenario, but soon found that any fears were misplaced.
When we arrived, we were greeted by a statuesque older woman donning a cowboy hat, jeans, and a long-sleeved flannel printed button up. She was leaning up against a little cart where a whiteboard was perfectly maintained with guest information. Carla provided the rules of the campground briefly, gave us our campsite, and offered us up some firewood bundles. Everything cash only.
We made up camp and looked around. Our campsite was steps away from the river and across from us was a partially built, partially destroyed concrete brick structure. Bestie and I assumed it was an old mine-related thing as we discussed the large metal cable running up the mountain. To the other direction there was a pedestrian bridge that was marked as private property leading to several large and spread out houses built into the mountains. Mysteries abounded. It immediately felt like we were in a place with rich history and stories, much like those captured by Ralph Friedman in Oregon for the Curious. For those of you who don't know, this is the book that inspired my blog AND it was through my Bestie that it was shared. How fitting for us to be curious and explore a little together.
We walked up the dirt road through the farm, where happy goats were running around and frolicking. Once we got up to the main road, we noticed a secondary establishment that appeared to be an RV park with a barn-like building that could be rented out. We walked around a bit and spoke to a few guests around the area inquiring where we might find the host family or owners. Everyone knew the name Becky and explained that the owners were super low-key and would allow us to take a campsite and they would just collect later. Soon a dusty UTV puttered up driven by a petite older woman named Ysabel.
Ysabel kindly offered to let us stay in a perfectly nice and clean camper if we decided we wanted to do that instead of the campground we were at. She turned on the power and water, told us she could just collect in the morning if we decided to move over. Baffled by this casual kindness and trust, we considered it! We asked casually about the family component of the area and she revealed that the entire region was owned by a group of siblings that all run their own independent businesses. She said her brother owned the hot springs, but we had only met Carla. Our curiosity was piqued again as rain began to patter down into the dusty, clay earth. We thanked Ysabel for her time and kindness as we made our way back to our camp for the night, passing by the goats once more.
On our second day, at first be both thought, what in the heck are are going to do all day in at the campground/hot springs with choppy internet?
First, we shared a hot spring pond with a very interesting couple (not related to the Campbells) who shared an incredible story of escaping Nicaragua during a coup, through some very movie-like scenes of being searched at gunpoint between the airport and their home. One young man in particular, the woman photographed with his loaded weapon pointing at them, face mostly covered with cloth/mask but was very happy to be photographed. It was her last photo before going through the process of escaping the country through other means. These folks told us about living abroad in a variety of places, and their secret to money management to allow for such a lifestyle. Their method? SAVE ALL YOUR RECEIPTS! Look at every dime and where it goes so that you save money for the good stuff. They now live in Tucson and have an adorable doggie.
Next, Bestie and I ventured back up the farm road to the main road, passing the RV establishment where we met Ysabel the night before. Further up the road was a general store called Doc Campbell's Post (Vacation Center). Hilariously, we forgot to bring any cash, had to walk back to camp, and returned. There, we got to enjoy some air conditioning, nice restrooms, and homemade ice cream. I got butterscotch and coffee flavors and ate both mostly by myself and I would do it again! These folks appear to be very self-sufficient and understand how to make things from scratch and turn that into a great business model, especially if all business is done by cash only.
On our walk back to camp, we yet again passed by the goats and this time a very sweet and excited dog found us near the river, just before we were in the campground. We spoke to another older woman, who owned the dog. She introduced herself as a neighbor who lives far up into the mountains, who crosses the river to get there and her dog is her only companion. She explained that in the winter, she will have only her doggo for months at a time due to being snowed-in (for those of you reading who might not know, yes, the high desert gets snow because mountains). She told us a story of the rich folks who build homes into the side of the mountain and how they only visit periodically but generally are too scared to make the drive up on their own due to the dirt road being made and maintained only by the Campbells. Again, it was another fascinating part of this family and how they have managed to live rich lives in this somewhat unincorporated paradise-town of theirs.
Bestie and I returned to our camp area where I pulled out the painting supplies so we could play around with some paint. There, we were greeted by Allen, the husband of Carla and brother to Ysabel. He joined us at the picnic table as we painted, allowing us to ask questions about all the things around us and the Campbell family. Allen's gentle presence and slow, steady words wove colorful and gritty history of the area and his family.
I began painting Allen as he explained the partial structure across the river, telling us it's an awful eye-sore thanks to some person who wanted to build a home up in the mountains using a pulley system, it was not a mining operation at all. He was unhappy about it's construction and the other man's poorly conceived vision. "I'm an engineer by trade," Allen said. He explained how this other man was limited in his knowledge about buildings and construction. He has lived around the US, but did some engineering in Seattle for several years before meetings his wife, Carla.
Allen was thoughtful about opportunity to learn about different kinds of lifestyles in Seattle and said his experience led him to believe that "you lose something in city living."
The youngest of the Campbell children, Allen explained they all own the establishments in the area. He explained that his father, known as Doc, was a brave man who came out to the area in 1930. For a more complete story written by Renee Despres from January 08, 2003, please check out this page.
Allen's mother, Ida Campbell was also one heck of a lady. Ida Campbell's obituary which outlines her incredible life as "one of the last pioneer women of Grant County."
To give you a brief idea: " Together, Doc and Ida built the Gila Hotsprings Ranch and outfitted customers into the Gila Wilderness. They were also instrumental in the promotion of the Gila Cliff Dwellings as a recreation destination for southwest New Mexico." A book she authored with her sister about some nefarious and historical rancher business ending in murder, Triumph and Tragedy: A History of Thomas Lyons and the LCs
Allen left us with one final tidbit that I have yet to track down, which was a Saturday Evening Post article, called The Wilderness Family published in 1948. Allen was a child but remembers that journalists were with them for few weeks. Bestie and I tried to look into this, but such old issues are difficult to find. When I have a little more time, I hope to inquire at my local library and maybe get to use the old-timey microfiche machines that I have seen in the movies.
As more guests arrived, Allen excused himself and went about tending to their needs. Bestie and I found that most of our original curiosities were satisfied, but of course led to more questions and wonders. We picked up our table and went back to the hot springs. There, we followed these two scout ants that had made their way to the rock in the center of the pool and watched them explore. Bestie helped them back across the water to the land. Later, I would find a superpowered ant carrying another insect around on it's own. These ants I felt were reflective of the incredible work ethic, grit, and resilience of the Campbells and their desire to share their little paradise with others.
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