The Making of Camp Cruz,
A Story of Grit and Community
In a way, the odds were not in my favor to acquire property with acreage and run a successful glamping retreat as I currently do at Camp Cruz. As a first generation Mexican-American raised by a working-class single mom with no college education, I grew up with one kind of likely future: to get a decent paying job working for somebody else. Without deconstructing the socio-economic inequalities in the United States whereby access to resources of wealth, like land ownership, are tangible opportunities for some more than others, this is the story of how an unlikely person such as myself managed to build Camp Cruz.
In 2004 my wife and I became first-time homeowners in the midst of starting our journey as parents. The home was on five acres with a year round creek in a shady, lush canyon in the redwood forest of the Santa Cruz Mountains. It was a small, aged home built out of old growth redwood. The forest around our home was unmanaged. The sunlight barely reached the forest floor through the tall redwoods, madrones, and oaks, and there were no trails among the thistles and ferns.
Although I didn’t realize it at the time, the resources to transform the land into a glampground began coming together in the first year we arrived. Wanting to do something about the lack of sunlight reaching the forest floor, we reluctantly fell some big trees on the land. We had no significant capital so we relied on bartering and patience. A friend, who was a tree climber, offered to do the tree work as a side job. We fell about two dozen trees. After two years of logging, the forest floor was littered with logs and cleaning it up was overwhelming. With the help of family and friends, we grinded stumps, chipped branches, and made burn piles. A neighbor offered to mill the logs in exchange for some of the lumber. With the clearing of the trees came more open space and sunlight as we had hoped for. Friends volunteered to help landscape a hillside into a garden with flowering currants, ceanothus, blueberries, fruit trees, and more. We built a composting toilet, a 16 ft. tipi, a sweat lodge, and a fire pit. Volunteers often enjoyed sweat lodges at the end of work days.
Camp remained as a diamond in the rough for a few more years. We felt overwhelmed by this never ending project while parenting two babies. Then early one morning on Memorial Day weekend in 2008 something horrible happened. A wildfire sparked on a nearby ridge due to extremely strong winds. Everybody on the mountain evacuated. We sped down the mountain at sunrise with our kids, our dogs, and a few belongings. Driving past several spot fires along the road felt surreal. The winds were so strong that not even firefighters dared go into the canyon on the first day of the fire. It seemed hopeless that our home would survive. With enormous relief, we returned four days later to discover that our home had been spared. Sadly, several homes neighboring us had burnt to the ground. In the spirit of community, we immediately set to help one neighbor who lost everything in the fire by putting on a benefit concert on our land. This led to more camp improvements. We built a stage with lumber from our trees. Interestingly enough, firefighters who spoke at the fundraiser said that all the tree work and clearing we had done undoubtedly saved our home from burning in the wildfire. Any doubts that I harbored about the tree felling that we did years ago were resolved at that time.
In that same year, we began an intense wave of development at camp. We built a geodome, a yurt, and hot showers. We turned the concert deck into an outdoor kitchen. Our land, which we acquired as an overgrown forest, had begun to transform into a unique glampground within a cathedral of redwoods. We named it Camp Cruz, which makes reference to the Santa Cruz Mountains while also honoring my family name. Support grew from the community as word spread about Camp Cruz. Volunteers became attracted to our mission to help people connect directly with nature. With their help, we improved the camp one project at a time - no different than at the beginning - without any financial investors or significant capital. We just had the land and the intention to share it with others. With a background in education, I started Growing Up Wild, a bilingual outdoor education program for local underserved youth. Camp Cruz is the base camp for this nonprofit outdoor education program. Through receiving donations and grants, we have provided outdoor education programs consistently since 2010.
Camp Cruz is reserved for our outdoor youth education program for five weeks each summer, leaving the rest of the year open for bookings. Our commitment to have a low impact on the environment led us to decide to allow only one group at a time no matter how small. Campers, especially couples, are pleasantly surprised to find that they have use of the whole camp to themselves. If you wish to book a stay at Camp Cruz, Please visit our listing on Airbnb. If you wish to learn more about our nonprofit outdoor education program, please go to www.growingupwild.org.
In 2004 my wife and I became first-time homeowners in the midst of starting our journey as parents. The home was on five acres with a year round creek in a shady, lush canyon in the redwood forest of the Santa Cruz Mountains. It was a small, aged home built out of old growth redwood. The forest around our home was unmanaged. The sunlight barely reached the forest floor through the tall redwoods, madrones, and oaks, and there were no trails among the thistles and ferns.
Although I didn’t realize it at the time, the resources to transform the land into a glampground began coming together in the first year we arrived. Wanting to do something about the lack of sunlight reaching the forest floor, we reluctantly fell some big trees on the land. We had no significant capital so we relied on bartering and patience. A friend, who was a tree climber, offered to do the tree work as a side job. We fell about two dozen trees. After two years of logging, the forest floor was littered with logs and cleaning it up was overwhelming. With the help of family and friends, we grinded stumps, chipped branches, and made burn piles. A neighbor offered to mill the logs in exchange for some of the lumber. With the clearing of the trees came more open space and sunlight as we had hoped for. Friends volunteered to help landscape a hillside into a garden with flowering currants, ceanothus, blueberries, fruit trees, and more. We built a composting toilet, a 16 ft. tipi, a sweat lodge, and a fire pit. Volunteers often enjoyed sweat lodges at the end of work days.
Camp remained as a diamond in the rough for a few more years. We felt overwhelmed by this never ending project while parenting two babies. Then early one morning on Memorial Day weekend in 2008 something horrible happened. A wildfire sparked on a nearby ridge due to extremely strong winds. Everybody on the mountain evacuated. We sped down the mountain at sunrise with our kids, our dogs, and a few belongings. Driving past several spot fires along the road felt surreal. The winds were so strong that not even firefighters dared go into the canyon on the first day of the fire. It seemed hopeless that our home would survive. With enormous relief, we returned four days later to discover that our home had been spared. Sadly, several homes neighboring us had burnt to the ground. In the spirit of community, we immediately set to help one neighbor who lost everything in the fire by putting on a benefit concert on our land. This led to more camp improvements. We built a stage with lumber from our trees. Interestingly enough, firefighters who spoke at the fundraiser said that all the tree work and clearing we had done undoubtedly saved our home from burning in the wildfire. Any doubts that I harbored about the tree felling that we did years ago were resolved at that time.
In that same year, we began an intense wave of development at camp. We built a geodome, a yurt, and hot showers. We turned the concert deck into an outdoor kitchen. Our land, which we acquired as an overgrown forest, had begun to transform into a unique glampground within a cathedral of redwoods. We named it Camp Cruz, which makes reference to the Santa Cruz Mountains while also honoring my family name. Support grew from the community as word spread about Camp Cruz. Volunteers became attracted to our mission to help people connect directly with nature. With their help, we improved the camp one project at a time - no different than at the beginning - without any financial investors or significant capital. We just had the land and the intention to share it with others. With a background in education, I started Growing Up Wild, a bilingual outdoor education program for local underserved youth. Camp Cruz is the base camp for this nonprofit outdoor education program. Through receiving donations and grants, we have provided outdoor education programs consistently since 2010.
Camp Cruz is reserved for our outdoor youth education program for five weeks each summer, leaving the rest of the year open for bookings. Our commitment to have a low impact on the environment led us to decide to allow only one group at a time no matter how small. Campers, especially couples, are pleasantly surprised to find that they have use of the whole camp to themselves. If you wish to book a stay at Camp Cruz, Please visit our listing on Airbnb. If you wish to learn more about our nonprofit outdoor education program, please go to www.growingupwild.org.
Camp Cruz is the home of an independent nonprofit outdoor education program called Growing Up Wild. Learn about Growing Up Wild and how to support its 2021 fund drive to increase access to the outdoors for underserved youth. |
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