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Bickel Camp April 2011

April 9, 2011

We are here on sacred ground to honor Danny Papacalos. A hardy miner and a good-natured Greek, Papadakos loved to spend time camping in and around this secret hideaway. That is, this desert spot was a well-guarded secret to Danny and a few city-bound artists. writers, and adventures who discovered Bickel Camp during the Beatnik era. Not being in on the secret, I published the first story about Walt Bickel's gold camp in California State University's Fullerton Daily Titan in 1972. Alex Apostolides, Danny's fellow Greek canyon dweller, explained at the time how the remote cabin was sanctuary, and my story would soon attract hordes of feature reporters. Danny saw it that way too and pointed out how fame could ruin innocent beauty cleverly disguised. So it’s fitting that Papadakos' ashes become dust in such an enchanted spot. Those Greeks were right too. My story did change many things, including Bickel, the camp, and the canyon. In time more stories on Bickel were written, and photographers, painters, filmmakers, and tourists arrived. The changes were forever, but some were for the better. For example, Bickel's circle of friends grew. Today these people are defenders of good things that still survive about the place. Danny often came here to visit his friend Walt after they met prospecting in the early Fifties. I first met Danny in 1970 when he was robust and still a young man. He was hard as jackhammer then, quick and spry, and worked the gold fields like a horse. He lived so until his hair turned gray, grew long, and flowed to his waist. The last time I saw him was at Bickel’s ashes scattering in 1996 up on top of Sandy’s Mesa. He stood there at the base of Black Mountain, looking to be a true man of knowledge. Danny’s open honest face, I noticed had become wiser looking then--in fact he looked like Moses. He somehow seemed taller and carried a staff the day we all threw Old Bickel to the wind. He left too quickly and we didn’t get to talk, and so can be said of all old friends who were quick but are now dead. Word comes now in real time, April 13, 2011, for example that Larry O'Neil, Danny's mining partner has just passed. Laura Ann Bickel calls with news of a good life coming to a blessed end.

People here to honor Danny are attracted to something magic in the wilderness 150 miles north of Los Angeles. It’s not the gold, though along with Papacalos, Bickel, O'Neil and many others, I’ve felt the power held in heavy metal. It’s more a harmonic convergence that brings friends to unite in a proper power spot. It can’t be seen in photographs or described with words. Still I foolishly try to capture with my lens what one feels in a haunted old mining camp. Looking for meaning, I come up short.

So it is I come to be wandering with camera around the Bickel Camp rust. I get a clue of why Danny was taken with this place. Sad, I think, that I was so self-absorbed in the years I could have visited more and learned much from Papacalos. I feel there was much I didn't see. Danny was quiet and would pass the salt at dinner around Bickel's table, but the conversation was always dominated by those of us who competed as story-tellers. This remote high desert site is named after our long-departed friend, but now, for some reason, I feel there’s something more. I look now for what I can only feel, and wonder why like a crazy man I keep producing repetitive images of Bickel Camp. I’m photographing some scenes for what must be over 100 times around this historic gold claim. Situated in the El Paso Mountains, I came here as a 13-year-old-boy 51 years ago. Like Danny The Greek, I’ve been a regular caller to Last Chance Canyon ever since. At this moment, I stand in a cosmic doorway wondering why I’m here. I watch my daughter Analissa and Tom's daughter Stephanie romp the local hills with sun catching their ponytails, and feel I almost understand. Traveling for so long as I have on the beaten paths of this volcanic lava bed, I feel a discovery is near. Finally I consider what mystic fruit I've gathered. I’ve documented the bleaching of wood, the growth of rust around Bickel Camp these many years. In real time half a century passes, and on a crisp spring morning I attempt to capture the return of rocks and old Greek miners to dust.
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We are lucky to have Mark to watch what's left.
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We are lucky to have Mark to watch what's left.

May112011BCCampSign

  • We are lucky to have Mark to watch what's left.
  • I remember when the sign on the right was new. Maybe the new one will last a few.
  • The salt cedar tamarisk blooms at the front door, I look for what I've never seen before.
  • Tamrisk and the cabin start another day.
  • How many times have I shot this today? Not to mention in a lifetime.
  • At Bickel's back yard were gas refrigerates were once used to store food.
  • How good the decision to keep traffic  back from the cabin--gives a new green view.
  • Larry's Scout sits on the yard, green with the Spring. Larry, Walt's son in law,  who forgets his own name these days and dreams of the days he lived here in a trailer as caretaker. The Tell Bells tinkle in the wind and speak of home.
  • A view never seen, now cleared thanks to Mark the new caretaker. Touches added this weekend by Tom Cody--The bed that I, many wives and good  friends shared under the stars, and the barbecue that countless more of us communed around were placed with great art.
  • Home for a quick moment. A look back and something I missed along the way taps softly..
  • Tom cooks and Laura Ann's sister, Colleen,  tends the ribs. Colleen, Laura Ann's "sister from another mister" was actually part of Walt's ex-wife's second family.
  • Tom and Stephanie made it their project to restore Walt's cooking spot using one of his spare barbecue pits. It was such a correct thing to do, I almost cried.
  • The fire dances for Tom Cody as Laura Ann Bickel and sister Colleen step to the warm grill. We all seem to be remembering something we never knew.
  • Charlie, Me and Stephanie, here this crisp morning for reasons we don't yet clearly see.
  • There were days when I could have driven this away for 50 bucks. There were 100 such gems back in the day but we all kept the secret anyway.
  • Ah the bed under the stars. Some say five wives and many girlfriends, never will forget any of them or regret the scars.
  • Fiddle necks catch morning light and illuminate Larry's Scout. I didn't know then  O'Neil had one more day. His Scout heads east.
  • I knew Stephanie and Casey as Tom's kids who came to play. I still see a child on this fine desert day.
  • Walt Bickel's daughter, Laura Ann, knows much about the canyon we should all understand.
  • This is Walt's wash setup, I think though I never saw him use it.
  • Rob bara

    on April 15, 2011

    Hi Bill. You can add you're name to that group of great story tellers. Can't wait to hear some more around a campfire.
    Very well written story.

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