twelve or so men who might be loosely described as Valhalla residents the morning after. Each of centerfold material, bronzed, languid, masculine, rugged and obviously gentle. Several animated conversations clearly indicated that friendships were being renewed from another time and most of the groups knew the other group. Okay. I won't hedge. I felt I was in an "in" bar on Folson Street inhabited by Market/Castro residents and, frankly, I didn't like the feeling. I paid my social amenities to whoever would look at me.

"Hi, I'm Richard."

The responses were friendly and warm but beyond giving me his first name, no invitations to further conversation ensued. Gratefully, I recognized Jim Sterling as the former press person for Kiss the Sky and I dissolved into a conversation with him reference my feelings of discomfort. We were thus left alone but I didn't want to be left alone. I wanted to meet and rap and get into heads. So the thought came up, "Sex will be better later on if mysteries are maintained-that must be the Wildwood trip," It wasn't a good feeling -being "appraised" for later on. When I could, I communicated this fact to Gerry, who was confused because this kind of feedback was not the usual at Wildwood.

An inner voice said, "Stop pushing. Relax. Let things happen. Stop wishing you were with your ex and open up. Your vibes are turning people off." And guess what. They did. I have no notes To rerer to. I don't believe in them.)

Who goes to Wildwood? Gerry says they are mainly the 94114 residents of San Francisco-Market/Castro.

ME: What brings you to Wildwood? HIM: It's a fantastic alternative to

the bars on a weekend. I spend much more than $20 on booze and brunches, ME: My feeling is that, although it is an alternative to the bars, it is quite apparent that you've brought the bar "thing" with you, and I feel that in order to meet most of the guests I have to do a bar thing-namely, cruise.

HIM: Relax. You'll see what it's all about, and it's not about bars, although I felt the same thing my first time here. So I pretended to relax, but inside I was seething and very much wishing I was at Bear Wallow talking philosophy and gay lib and books and theatre.

After lunch (tuna sandwiches, borscht, juice, coffee-simple, excellently prepared and informal) the magic started and I can't pinpoint why. But it seemed very right to tell host Gerry, "I'm having a fabulous time!"

One by one, quietly, when it had some meaning (beyond doing duty) I did meet everyone, and between playing Hearts by the pool, listening to Turandot on Robert's fabulous cassette hookup, and beer and other chemical things that make us beautiful people, Wildwood had completed its magic. I met Gerry and Ken, our hosts, Joe, a graphic artist, his friend John, a book publisher, Robert, an accountant, Bud, a data processor, formerly long-time member of the San Francisco Opera Chorus, Tony, a student chef, Bret, a grad student at Cal, Bob, a medical insurance person, Ray and Matt, Berkeley people, Pat, Gig, David, a speech therapist, Wayne, a financier (and founding vice president of S.I.R.,) Al, maitre 'd and into psyche trips, Greg, a stained glass artist, and Jim who was into metal sculpture with a one-man show about to happen in Bradley's Bar. No pattern. Just people-beautiful people-attractive people-human people-relaxed people-

sexy people-people.

Maximum sleeping quarters are for forty,, but Gerry is very much into limiti ng weekends to an average of twenty-five to thirty. Members, of course, get top priority, and weekends are almost booked for the season until late October rain time. During-the-week is fairly open since this is the first season that Wildwood is open seven days a week and the word isn't quite out yet. Gerry does ho national advertising, and the greatest percentage of guests are from the Bay Area. Gerry feels he wants to keep it this way. Many, many relationships have developed at the ranch and continued into the city, and some have turned into "marriages.”

Since so many guests are members, they feel they have a stake in the operation and the running of Wildwood and are often possessive of the experience, which runs to helping keep the place clean and taking turns "hosting" the new arrivals. Occasionally the crazies take Cver. On Memorial Day weekend it was decided that the place was in need of a sophisticated first-aid kit. So an instant "benefit" was held consisting of taking the most beautiful guest and covering him with a mountain of whipped cream, dotted with fresh fruit, cherries, etc. Then for 25 cents to look and 50 cents to eat all you wanted they aised sufficient funds. It was instant and hlarious, as reported.

Acoining the olympic pool is a hot Jacuz¡ pool building which remains open II night, complete with candles and incense. The area is dotted with private and house tents hidden in the trees. The two bunkhouses each sleep eight-one with stacked bunk beds and the other with four doubles placed in a row. Showers and toilets are all around.

VECTOR 29