Norman and Pat May are shown playing on the frozen river at Camp Chilnualna sometime before their kids were born — Photo courtesy of Garth May
History Abounds at Famous Camp in The Heart of Wawona
February 20, 2020
By KELLIE FLANAGAN
Gazette correspondent
Eighteen miles east of Mariposa as the crow flies, inside Yosemite National Park, is the town of Wawona: once a busy stage stop en route to the valley floor and beyond. Famously known as home to one of the oldest mountain resorts in California, the settlement’s existence precedes the founding of the national recreation area surrounding it, a designation that created a cushion of Yosemite on which shines the jewel of Wawona.
“Growing up here was amazing and wonderful,” according to Garth May, the third generation of his family to live in Wawona as owners of Camp Chilnualna Cabins, originally established by Albert Spelt in 1920 and now celebrating its 100th year in vacation rentals and recreation.
Today, Camp Chilnualna consists of six charmingly rustic cabins on about four-and-a-half acres of stunning land near the south fork of the Merced River, plus the May family home. Nearby are the Pine Tree Market, an elementary school, a library, some research stations and about 400 homes, mostly cabins and cottages. The majority of those are vacation homes and rentals; Wawona has about 160 full-time residents, but with millions of people coming to Yosemite every year, the number of visitors is infinitely higher — and for good reason.
“Wawona is just perfect in so many ways,” Garth continued, expressing his love for the little neighborhood tucked inside the park at an elevation of 4,000 feet. “It’s the perfect weather, we just get four nice seasons and I never get tired of this place.”
Named for nearby falls tumbling dramatically hundreds of feet over granite, Chinualna (chill-new-all-na) is said to mean “echos of the waters,” in the first people’s language.
The long haul
The May family has been at the helm here since the mid-30s when then-owner Cornelia McBeth Wooster sold the property —including the Camp Chinualna cottages — to Garth May’s grandfather Harold May, when Garth’s dad Norman was just a kid.
Norman attended the one-room elementary school in Wawona from the time it first opened, book-ended by Garth and his older sister, Terry, who went to class there until the original school closed for a time in the 1970s. Coming of age in Wawona meant living under towering trees, summers spent jumping endlessly into the river and keeping the occasional orphaned deer as a treasured family “pet.”
Much has been written about the pioneering families of early Wawona and the history of each is fascinating to learn. The May family’s presence in the area dates back almost 90 years to when Garth’s grandpa Harold May first helped build the road on which millions of people now enter Yosemite National Park every year.
February 20, 2020
By KELLIE FLANAGAN
Gazette correspondent
Eighteen miles east of Mariposa as the crow flies, inside Yosemite National Park, is the town of Wawona: once a busy stage stop en route to the valley floor and beyond. Famously known as home to one of the oldest mountain resorts in California, the settlement’s existence precedes the founding of the national recreation area surrounding it, a designation that created a cushion of Yosemite on which shines the jewel of Wawona.
“Growing up here was amazing and wonderful,” according to Garth May, the third generation of his family to live in Wawona as owners of Camp Chilnualna Cabins, originally established by Albert Spelt in 1920 and now celebrating its 100th year in vacation rentals and recreation.
Today, Camp Chilnualna consists of six charmingly rustic cabins on about four-and-a-half acres of stunning land near the south fork of the Merced River, plus the May family home. Nearby are the Pine Tree Market, an elementary school, a library, some research stations and about 400 homes, mostly cabins and cottages. The majority of those are vacation homes and rentals; Wawona has about 160 full-time residents, but with millions of people coming to Yosemite every year, the number of visitors is infinitely higher — and for good reason.
“Wawona is just perfect in so many ways,” Garth continued, expressing his love for the little neighborhood tucked inside the park at an elevation of 4,000 feet. “It’s the perfect weather, we just get four nice seasons and I never get tired of this place.”
Named for nearby falls tumbling dramatically hundreds of feet over granite, Chinualna (chill-new-all-na) is said to mean “echos of the waters,” in the first people’s language.
The long haul
The May family has been at the helm here since the mid-30s when then-owner Cornelia McBeth Wooster sold the property —including the Camp Chinualna cottages — to Garth May’s grandfather Harold May, when Garth’s dad Norman was just a kid.
Norman attended the one-room elementary school in Wawona from the time it first opened, book-ended by Garth and his older sister, Terry, who went to class there until the original school closed for a time in the 1970s. Coming of age in Wawona meant living under towering trees, summers spent jumping endlessly into the river and keeping the occasional orphaned deer as a treasured family “pet.”
Much has been written about the pioneering families of early Wawona and the history of each is fascinating to learn. The May family’s presence in the area dates back almost 90 years to when Garth’s grandpa Harold May first helped build the road on which millions of people now enter Yosemite National Park every year.
“In 1933 a company called Granite Construction was building Highway 41 from Yosemite all the way down to the coast, and my grandfather was on that crew building the highway,” Garth said.
Born in 1900, by the 1930s his grandfather Harold May was a rock-crusher on the crew, moving around to different towns with his wife, Edna, as the new road carried them. Born and raised in the rough mining camps of Montana, Edna was well suited to an adventurous life with Harold and, even while living at the coast, they never forgot the time they spent in Wawona.
So, when it came time to settle with their son and daughter, the Mays “did what folks did back then,” said Garth, and “just jumped in the car with everything and came up here.”
They paid $6,500 to purchase Camp Chilnualna — which included a small store at the time — right in the middle of the Great Depression.“Times were hard in those days,” wrote Garth’s father Norman May much later in life, looking back on his childhood in an unpublished memoir. “The depression was at its peak and sometimes [my] parents wondered if they had done the right thing by purchasing Camp Chilnualna, but they loved the place and they struggled on.”
To make matters worse, he chronicled, “the heaviest and coldest winter in the memory of the white man arrived during the winter of 1936-37. The official measurement of snowfall was 16 feet of snow in six weeks, settling to a hard pack of six feet of ‘Sierra cement.’ The temperature dropped to -28 degrees at Camp Chilnualna.”
To war and back
By that time, Harold had gone to work for the park and was plowing snow without a break for 52-cents an hour. That freezing winter was followed by the Great Flood of 1937-38, which came over Christmas and New Year when Norman was a young teen.
By the 1940s the Great Depression had run its course, but World War II was calling men across the United States to battle, including Norman May.
Born in 1900, by the 1930s his grandfather Harold May was a rock-crusher on the crew, moving around to different towns with his wife, Edna, as the new road carried them. Born and raised in the rough mining camps of Montana, Edna was well suited to an adventurous life with Harold and, even while living at the coast, they never forgot the time they spent in Wawona.
So, when it came time to settle with their son and daughter, the Mays “did what folks did back then,” said Garth, and “just jumped in the car with everything and came up here.”
They paid $6,500 to purchase Camp Chilnualna — which included a small store at the time — right in the middle of the Great Depression.“Times were hard in those days,” wrote Garth’s father Norman May much later in life, looking back on his childhood in an unpublished memoir. “The depression was at its peak and sometimes [my] parents wondered if they had done the right thing by purchasing Camp Chilnualna, but they loved the place and they struggled on.”
To make matters worse, he chronicled, “the heaviest and coldest winter in the memory of the white man arrived during the winter of 1936-37. The official measurement of snowfall was 16 feet of snow in six weeks, settling to a hard pack of six feet of ‘Sierra cement.’ The temperature dropped to -28 degrees at Camp Chilnualna.”
To war and back
By that time, Harold had gone to work for the park and was plowing snow without a break for 52-cents an hour. That freezing winter was followed by the Great Flood of 1937-38, which came over Christmas and New Year when Norman was a young teen.
By the 1940s the Great Depression had run its course, but World War II was calling men across the United States to battle, including Norman May.
“At 17 he threatened to run away from home if his mom and dad didn’t sign his permission to join the Marines and fight in World War II,” Garth recounted of his dad’s determination to enlist.
Norman continued in his recollection. “In 1942 I took a ‘leave of absence’ from Camp Chilnualna. I had just graduated from high school and I joined the Marines. I will never forget the first words of our D.I. (drill instructor) in boot camp, ‘You guys are hired killers and I am here to show you how to do it!’”
After six “hasty” weeks of boot camp, the Marines were immediately sent to the Island of Midway to be on what Norm called the “reception committee for the expanding Japanese Empire.”
“I was gone for three years before returning to Camp Chilnualna, 20 months of which was spent in the South Pacific,” Norm wrote.
Garth says his dad came home from the war and never left again.
“In 1949 Camp Chilnualna expanded even more,” penned Norm. “We built a restaurant and called it ‘Chilnualna Lodge Café.’ They leased out land where others built a theatre, service station and garage, and the area was turning into the heart of Wawona.
Norman continued in his recollection. “In 1942 I took a ‘leave of absence’ from Camp Chilnualna. I had just graduated from high school and I joined the Marines. I will never forget the first words of our D.I. (drill instructor) in boot camp, ‘You guys are hired killers and I am here to show you how to do it!’”
After six “hasty” weeks of boot camp, the Marines were immediately sent to the Island of Midway to be on what Norm called the “reception committee for the expanding Japanese Empire.”
“I was gone for three years before returning to Camp Chilnualna, 20 months of which was spent in the South Pacific,” Norm wrote.
Garth says his dad came home from the war and never left again.
“In 1949 Camp Chilnualna expanded even more,” penned Norm. “We built a restaurant and called it ‘Chilnualna Lodge Café.’ They leased out land where others built a theatre, service station and garage, and the area was turning into the heart of Wawona.
“The restaurant was going great. We had only been open a year (1950) when the worst happened. The Korean War broke out, and even though I was in the inactive reserve, I was called back immediately for my specialty, MTACS (Marine Tactical Air Control), acting as a forward observer calling in air strikes on enemy positions.”
After 13 months and nearly on the eve of his departure for Korea, the high command decided that Norman May’s extensive service in WW II had been enough, and they gave him the option of going to Korea or getting out.
“Needless to say, I chose the latter.
“I have wandered far a-field from Camp Chilnualna and Wawona, but I wanted to mention how much my getting called back into the Marines disrupted our lives and the course of events for Camp Chilnualna. It was impossible for my parents to continue on trying to run the cabins and restaurants in my absence.”
The restaurant was leased out to another in what Norm considered a good move, and things went pretty well until the sudden death of Edna from cancer in the fall of 1960.
“This kind of threw things out of ‘gear’ again,” said her grieving son Norman. “My mother was a strong woman. She knew what hard work was and she wasn’t afraid of it. I must say that her strength, perseverance and tenacity [were] the glue that held Camp Chilnualna together in the early days.”
Broken hearts, a new start
With the loss of Edna, said her grandson Garth, “every heart was broken.”
By that time, Norman had already met Patty Lee, a city girl turned mountain woman, originally from North Hollywood. Pat had fallen in love with Wawona during summers there as a girl and eventually scraped and saved to purchase her own small cabin near Camp Chilnualna. That’s how she met Norm.
Pat “stepped unflinchingly into the enormous void left by Edna when she passed,” Garth learned later. “Mom carried them through that time. She and dad were married a year later up at Sentinel Dome, but she became family at that moment.”
Over the years, the May family built new cabins, tore down some old ones, and expanded into property management, continuing to welcome visitors onto the grounds and into their home, where they’d hold court from a big square wooden table while seasons passed at the modest resort inside the giant national park. Time here was said to be elastic.
“Nobody ever knocked on our door, they just walked in,” Garth said.
After 13 months and nearly on the eve of his departure for Korea, the high command decided that Norman May’s extensive service in WW II had been enough, and they gave him the option of going to Korea or getting out.
“Needless to say, I chose the latter.
“I have wandered far a-field from Camp Chilnualna and Wawona, but I wanted to mention how much my getting called back into the Marines disrupted our lives and the course of events for Camp Chilnualna. It was impossible for my parents to continue on trying to run the cabins and restaurants in my absence.”
The restaurant was leased out to another in what Norm considered a good move, and things went pretty well until the sudden death of Edna from cancer in the fall of 1960.
“This kind of threw things out of ‘gear’ again,” said her grieving son Norman. “My mother was a strong woman. She knew what hard work was and she wasn’t afraid of it. I must say that her strength, perseverance and tenacity [were] the glue that held Camp Chilnualna together in the early days.”
Broken hearts, a new start
With the loss of Edna, said her grandson Garth, “every heart was broken.”
By that time, Norman had already met Patty Lee, a city girl turned mountain woman, originally from North Hollywood. Pat had fallen in love with Wawona during summers there as a girl and eventually scraped and saved to purchase her own small cabin near Camp Chilnualna. That’s how she met Norm.
Pat “stepped unflinchingly into the enormous void left by Edna when she passed,” Garth learned later. “Mom carried them through that time. She and dad were married a year later up at Sentinel Dome, but she became family at that moment.”
Over the years, the May family built new cabins, tore down some old ones, and expanded into property management, continuing to welcome visitors onto the grounds and into their home, where they’d hold court from a big square wooden table while seasons passed at the modest resort inside the giant national park. Time here was said to be elastic.
“Nobody ever knocked on our door, they just walked in,” Garth said.
By the 1970s, some of the Camp Chilnualna cabins and others in the growing area were being managed by an association of homeowners established inside Wawona, known as The Redwoods. Back then, The Redwoods had about 40 cottages under its umbrella; today they handle about 120.
The Camp Chilnualna Cabins, however, remain much as they have for decades. The same goes for Wawona, pretty much, according to Garth and some others who have been around long enough to know.
Back then, he says, the place “wasn’t that different than it is now, really. There are much larger homes, now, and a few more people, but not a lot more people. There are about the same number of kids going to the school down the street as when I was a kid. There are a lot more regulations and things; there’s a rule and a law for everything these days, it seems.
“Burrel Maier has been the stage driver at the history center in the summertime since the 70s. He said to me one day, ‘You know, the only people who say Wawona’s changing too much are folks that haven’t lived here long enough.’ And I totally got what he meant by that. It really is, remarkably, the same kind of vibe even as decades pass.”
Family tradition
Like his dad before him, Garth May left Wawona for a time and lived in the Bay Area, earning a degree in humanities and making music as far away as Tokyo. Once, he found a random postcard someone sent from Wawona and the unmet writer captured the gentle ambiance as Garth remembered it.
“’We woke up and the deer were in front of the cabin eating grass,’” he read, and “’the bear came last night and knocked the garbage can over.’ It was all just exactly as you would describe it in any given year.”
Eventually returning to his old stomping grounds with the bears, birds and deer, Garth said, “I never looked back and realized this is where I wanted to be.”
Harold May has been gone a while now and, in recent years, both Pat and Norm have passed away. But they and Edna are remembered all the time at Camp Chilnualna, where their spirits live on in the sounds of whispering trees and children’s laughter, the changing seasons and in the steady flow of the mighty Merced.
While much stays the same in Wawona, Garth has noted that the weather seems less predictable, while the threat of fire has become more frequent as a combination of a densely grown forest, years of drought and tree mortality conspired to create hazardous conditions.
“Two out of the last three years we were evacuated for a week or so, in spite of my family being here 80-plus years and we had never experienced an evacuation for anything up to that point.”
He’s comforted by the patchwork of defensible space created as each fire is fought and contained.
The modern era
These days, the internet has proved to be a good thing for vacation rentals in Wawona, as Airbnb and other entities have taken on the reservation tasks previously handled in the office. Garth enjoys the convenience of the Airbnb model and credits much of the establishment’s reputation for excellent reviews to Camp Chilnuala’s indispensible live-in manager, the lovely Margina Jones.
“We have guests from all over the world,” Margina shared, saying she’s enjoyed reading reservation request letters from the old days when that’s how business was conducted — slowly — at a pace that seems more naturally akin to Wawona than today’s high-speed internet.
“Wawona is a sacred, beautiful place that will help ground you in the present moment, always being surrounded by the beauty of the river, the trees, the animals,” Margina said. “Just taking a short walk outside here will help bring peace to your heart. It’s a place to always be honored and respected.”
It’s especially peaceful now, in the off-season, when Margina and Garth are busily challenged with the mundane but necessary chores associated with keeping living history intact: installing floors, cleaning cabins, cutting wood and generally shoring up the place, ever accompanied by their constant canine sidekicks.
Dogs, by the way, are welcome visitors at Camp Chilnualna, where everyone is made to feel at home and Garth’s small slice of paradise is, by far, the best place to be.
“My friends that have come up here over the years, they loved my family and they love Yosemite and Wawona. I look up at the trees in the day and the stars at night — and there’s always something interesting going on.”
The Camp Chilnualna Cabins, however, remain much as they have for decades. The same goes for Wawona, pretty much, according to Garth and some others who have been around long enough to know.
Back then, he says, the place “wasn’t that different than it is now, really. There are much larger homes, now, and a few more people, but not a lot more people. There are about the same number of kids going to the school down the street as when I was a kid. There are a lot more regulations and things; there’s a rule and a law for everything these days, it seems.
“Burrel Maier has been the stage driver at the history center in the summertime since the 70s. He said to me one day, ‘You know, the only people who say Wawona’s changing too much are folks that haven’t lived here long enough.’ And I totally got what he meant by that. It really is, remarkably, the same kind of vibe even as decades pass.”
Family tradition
Like his dad before him, Garth May left Wawona for a time and lived in the Bay Area, earning a degree in humanities and making music as far away as Tokyo. Once, he found a random postcard someone sent from Wawona and the unmet writer captured the gentle ambiance as Garth remembered it.
“’We woke up and the deer were in front of the cabin eating grass,’” he read, and “’the bear came last night and knocked the garbage can over.’ It was all just exactly as you would describe it in any given year.”
Eventually returning to his old stomping grounds with the bears, birds and deer, Garth said, “I never looked back and realized this is where I wanted to be.”
Harold May has been gone a while now and, in recent years, both Pat and Norm have passed away. But they and Edna are remembered all the time at Camp Chilnualna, where their spirits live on in the sounds of whispering trees and children’s laughter, the changing seasons and in the steady flow of the mighty Merced.
While much stays the same in Wawona, Garth has noted that the weather seems less predictable, while the threat of fire has become more frequent as a combination of a densely grown forest, years of drought and tree mortality conspired to create hazardous conditions.
“Two out of the last three years we were evacuated for a week or so, in spite of my family being here 80-plus years and we had never experienced an evacuation for anything up to that point.”
He’s comforted by the patchwork of defensible space created as each fire is fought and contained.
The modern era
These days, the internet has proved to be a good thing for vacation rentals in Wawona, as Airbnb and other entities have taken on the reservation tasks previously handled in the office. Garth enjoys the convenience of the Airbnb model and credits much of the establishment’s reputation for excellent reviews to Camp Chilnuala’s indispensible live-in manager, the lovely Margina Jones.
“We have guests from all over the world,” Margina shared, saying she’s enjoyed reading reservation request letters from the old days when that’s how business was conducted — slowly — at a pace that seems more naturally akin to Wawona than today’s high-speed internet.
“Wawona is a sacred, beautiful place that will help ground you in the present moment, always being surrounded by the beauty of the river, the trees, the animals,” Margina said. “Just taking a short walk outside here will help bring peace to your heart. It’s a place to always be honored and respected.”
It’s especially peaceful now, in the off-season, when Margina and Garth are busily challenged with the mundane but necessary chores associated with keeping living history intact: installing floors, cleaning cabins, cutting wood and generally shoring up the place, ever accompanied by their constant canine sidekicks.
Dogs, by the way, are welcome visitors at Camp Chilnualna, where everyone is made to feel at home and Garth’s small slice of paradise is, by far, the best place to be.
“My friends that have come up here over the years, they loved my family and they love Yosemite and Wawona. I look up at the trees in the day and the stars at night — and there’s always something interesting going on.”