We travelled North on windy, windy roads to Bohemian Grove, a private male-only camp built into a redwood forest. I was unsure of what to expect going in because I was told that women are only allowed a few days of the year, the grove is frequented by Presidents and other big wigs, and that they might do a background check or something!
We were invited as part of my Father-in-Law's band that had been invited to play for a Spring opening picnic, so I was happy to be a groupie for the day and gain access to the super-private hideaway.
It was much more laid back than I had anticipated: No gun-holding security guards, just the regular type. No secret password to enter, we just had to make the guest list. And it really is a grove. A giant grove of redwoods with camp buildings built into the scenery, moss covering everything. It was a very intimate group in the camp we visited, so we mingled, drank some delicious Blood Marys, and listened to good music surrounded by huge trees.
Today I am thankful for Bohemia. I am thankful for classical guitar music, Redwood trees and all their majestic beauty, and a roaring campfire.