Editor’s note: This story is part of a series devoted to the history of Plumas County, covering a different seasonal theme from Plumas County’s past.
Plumas County’s many natural hot springs have long drawn visitors eager to take the waters and relax in the warm pools, once said to cure complaints ranging from kidney disease to acne. The landscape is dotted with natural springs, some known only to a select few, others the sites of thriving businesses. This month, as spring comes to Plumas County, we visit just a few of the best-known hot springs resorts in the region.
Campbell Hot Springs, Sierra Valley
Campbell Hot Springs sit at the extreme southern end of Sierra Valley. Indigenous people have enjoyed the springs for millennia. According to General Manager Kaisa MacDonald, evidence of Indigenous culture has been found around the property. Washoe elders have visited and shared their recollections. From them, MacDonald understands that the springs were shared, rather than belonging to any one group.
A possibly apocryphal account of the discovery of the hot springs, which appeared in the Mountain Messenger in 1863 under the byline “Prospector,” tells of a newly arrived settler who happened upon a boiling and steaming spring and ran back to his wagon train in fear, shouting a warning, “Turn back, for God’s sake, boys, hell isn’t a half mile from here!”
The author of the piece describes trying the springs: “I swallowed about a pint of the villainous compound, which tasted as though composed of equal parts of tartaric emetic, epsom salts, and assafoetida.”
In spite of the taste, the waters have long been believed to be curative. “Prospector” wrote he’d been assured that “no person ever tried the springs without feeling the better afterwards.” H.L. Bonta, an owner in the 1920s, advertised it as curing “rheumatism, gout, liver and kidney complaints, and all blood and skin diseases.” Today’s crew is a little more circumspect. Some people believe minerals can be absorbed through the skin, said MacDonald. Certainly, warm water soothes muscle aches.
“Turn back, for God’s sake, boys, hell isn’t a half mile from here!”
Unnamed traveler
In 1852 or 1853 Howk Ranch was established by Corel Howk and his wife Ordelle C. Howk. The Howks developed the springs and miners often came there for treatment. Jack Campbell purchased the ranch shortly after, and established the Campbell Hot Springs Resort, which he ran until his death. Campbell left his position as Sierra County sheriff after his second term to focus on the hot springs, transforming it into a watering hole for the affluent. However, after becoming involved with a government reform group, Campbell sold the business to a pair of brothers for $17,000 and reentered politics, running for sheriff on a reform platform. Campbell was gunned down on a Friday afternoon in September, 1882, while lounging on the porch of a hotel in Randolph, now Sierraville.
His murderer, A.J. Stubbs, narrowly avoided mob justice. He turned himself over to the Sierraville constable, who smuggled him out of town under cover of darkness. He was eventually found guilty and sentenced to 18 years in San Quentin. No political conspiracy was ever proven.
In 1959, the Cold Creek Fire swept through the area over the Fourth of July weekend. Local historian Bill Copren recalls a story from his childhood: When the hotel was threatened, the owners placed the bar stock in the swimming pool, the alcohol being one of the most valuable assets after the buildings themselves. A U.S. Forest Service hot shot team from Arizona came across the cache and distributed the bottles bucket-brigade style, passing them man-to-man all the way to the fire line.
Through the years, the property passed through many owners, remaining in constant operation. It was known for hosting dances through the summer months, as well as parties for the Fourth of July and Halloween.
MacDonald came to the Campbell Hot Springs as a child. Her parents belonged to a commune known as the Consciousness Village. “When I was growing up it was a New Age commune. A lot of interesting people passed through here,” she said.
During the 1970 and ‘80s, visitors flocked to the springs for what was called “rebirthing.” Leonard Orr, the guru, developed a ritual for reliving the birth experience as a way of achieving immortality.
For over 30 years since 1991, the property, now known as Sierra Hot Springs Resort and Retreat Center, has been under the management of the New Age Church of Being, which also operates the better-known Harbin Hot Springs north of San Francisco. The new owners undertook a major renovation in the mid- to late-1990s. The old stone tubs and bathhouses from the 1930s and 1940s were replaced; a geodesic dome was constructed and a new spring drilled to feed the main pool.
“It’s such a beautiful property,” said MacDonald. It attracts a “unique and diverse crowd” and a “great group of employees.” Today the resort employs around 20 staff, 12 of them full time, and offers five rooms in the original building, 10 at the affiliated Globe Hotel in Sierraville, plus campsites. The restaurant, Philosophy Cafe, is open to all.
White Sulphur Springs Ranch, Clio
In 1852, just a year after Jim Beckwourth opened his pass — and with it much of Plumas County — three white American settlers established a ranch on 400 acres in a secluded alpine valley between Quincy and Truckee. The partners, Gloud, Friend, and Jamison, hailed from Mohawk Valley in the Allegheny Mountains of New York state; they gave their new valley home the same name. The ranch they called White Sulphur Springs in honor of the distinctive-smelling natural hot spring on the property.
The partners allowed passing travelers to enjoy the springs. Linda Milner Waters recorded an account of her visit in 1855:
“We reached Mohawk Valley over fearful ground, as we made our own road. September 8th, the next day, moved about two miles up among the large pines. Here we stayed a month and had fine times, although surrounded by Grizzly Bears and large wolves. Two miles above us was a bath house with water from a warm sulphur spring. Harris and Groves, who owned it, gave us liberty to use it, and we did, every day. The water had an exhilarating effect, made one feel as lively as champagne.”
“The water had an exhilarating effect, made one feel as lively as champagne.”
Linda Milner Waters
In 1858, Fred King took over the ranch and established a hotel and stagecoach stop, where visitors could enjoy the mineral-rich waters. In 1867, the property passed to George S. McClear, his wife, and their four children, who owned and operated it for most of a century, until 1954. McClear had come from Pennsylvania in 1855. Under his stewardship, the ranch became a popular community hub and tourist destination. McClear himself was active in the local business scene and served as a county supervisor.
After the last member of the McClear family passed away, the property passed through several owners until it was put up for forced auction in 2003, according to the nonprofit Mohawk Valley Stewardship Council. The council formed in 2008 with the aim of restoring and operating the facility. Today, the council owns 39 acres of the original ranch, including the springs, house and swimming pool, which they hope to restore for use by the public. In 2015, council reported that the property boasts eight geothermal springs of about 80 degrees.
Indian Valley Hot Springs, Greenville
The Indian Valley Hot Springs, also known as the Kruger Spring, sits in the meadow at the edge of Greenville. According to Lassen County historian Tim Purdy, during the heyday of mining in the late 1800s, Indian Valley Hot Spring became a popular resort — but as the industry dwindled, so did the bath house, and by 1900 it had closed.
The springs reopened in 1926 under the aegis of B.C. Johnson. It formed a core part of town life for the next half century, playing host to summer concerts, swimming classes, children’s parties, charitable events, dances and even baptisms. In 1939, then-owner F.M. Clare reported in the Indian Valley Record an extension of a well, resulting in increased flow and temperatures up to 122 degrees.
Newspaper archives are full of advertisements for events: A 1932 orchestra performance; 1933 Odd Fellows Ball; a 1934 Thanksgiving Dance; a high school swim party in 1946; PTA-sponsored swim lessons in the 1950s and a champion shuffleboard team in the 1960s. One ad invites visitors to “glide along our new masonite floor” to “danceable music by the Score” and “Chet McBrides Orchestra.”
In 1942, Crescent School fourth grader Audrey Sue North published a short notice in the Indian Valley Record reporting on end-of-school-year festivities, “After our games and lunch we are going swimming at the Hot Springs. We think this will be a happy way to end the year.”
In 1947 a roller rink was added, along with other renovations. An ad from the period reads, “Skating will be available with musical accompaniment, on Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday afternoons, and the pool will be open daily except Monday.”
It was around this time that Hellen Hollingsworth acquired the property, which she operated for about 40 years. Greenville resident Lee Anne Schramel recalled visiting the hot springs in the mid-1970s. Mrs. Hollingsworth often accepted entry fees from her circular bed, wearing red lipstick and surrounded by liver-spotted dalmatian dogs, Schrammel said. The fee was 50 cents during the day, and three dollars in the evening, when skinny dipping was allowed. By that time, the facilities had begun to degrade somewhat, the diving board covered in burlap. The springs closed to the public in the mid-1980s.
Feather River Hot Springs, Feather River Canyon
Feather River Hot Springs, also known as Woody’s Hot Springs, sit at the edge of the Feather River between Paxton and Twain. According to the hot springs website, it’s not known whether Indigenous people used this particular spring. The thin stream of hot water first came to the attention of modern American residents during the construction of the Feather River Highway in the 1930s. The springs were drilled to increase the flow, and two cement tubs were installed. That infrastructure remains more or less unchanged today, said owner and operator Rockel “Rocki” Eriksen.
The pools are fed by two separate drills, one lithium and one sulphur. The lithium water is more buoyant, and tends to have a milky color, Eriksen said. There is also a cold spring on the property and, early in the season, a natural plunge pool at the river’s edge.
The property was first developed in 1937 as O’Neill’s Dine and Dance. It boasted a restaurant and bar with a dance floor, a gas station, an array of rustic resort cabins, and an Olympic-sized swimming pool heated by the springs. That pool is now a meadow, but the spot was a lively destination throughout the 1940s, ‘50s and ‘60s, with a popular dining room serving burgers and weekly Friday night fish fries. It also provided space for birthday parties, family reunions, anniversaries and other celebrations.
The restaurant and bar were destroyed by fire in May of 1976, though the stone facade still stands. Locals may recognize the distinctive star-burst patterns in the masonry from other local buildings of the same era, including Moons, the restaurant on Lawrence Street in Quincy.
Woody’s Cafe remained open for many years, occupying another building on the property. The beloved spot was named for its proprietor, Woody Hoeflin, a woman who “loved to feed people,” said Eriksen.
By the time Eriken purchased the property in 2000, the business had not been operational in sometime. Born and raised in Concord, Eriksen traveled to Plumas to visit her son, who was attending Feather River College. She stopped in at a flea market and learned that the hot spring was up for auction. At the time “all the cabins were kind of sinking into the ground.”
Over the next 10 years, she lovingly restored three cabins, decorating them with clawfoot tubs, local artwork and antiques from the timber and mining industry. She took special pleasure in hosting concerts in the historic bar and later on an outdoor bandstand dubbed the “chicken coop stage.”
Since the Dixie Fire the area has been plagued by mud and rock slides. After one major slide, Eriksen couldn’t even get down to the pools. “When I finally did, I was like ‘I’m done,’” she said. With the help of a Go-fund-me campaign, she was able to pay for three days of excavator work to remove the logs and debris, and to rebuild the footbridge.
It’s a long-standing issue made worse by post-fire erosion. In 1982 the Feather River Bulletin reported, “Woody Hoeflin had just made a new path and activated her Feather River Hot Springs when the bad storm came along and undid all the work. However it is again cleared out and in good shape, ready to use. Woody is very pleased with the fact that her dinners are bringing her former customers back and gaining new ones.”
Feather River Hot Spring is currently closed due to a landslide early in 2025.
Works Cited
Council assesses water at White Sulphur Springs. Portola Reporter. March 25 2015
I.V. Hot Springs Artesian Flow is 1,200 Gals. Per Hour. Indian Valley Record. July 13 1939
Roller skating added to entertainment at Indian Valley Hot Spring. Indian Valley Record. June 19 1947
Helen L. Hollingsworth Obituary. Feather River Bulletin. March 4 1987
Fire destroys canyon’s Hot Springs resort. Feather River Bulletin. May 9 1976
Canyon Chatter. Feather River Bulletin, March 3 1982.
Grand reopening. Feather River Bulletin, June 17 1981.
Compton, Emily. Bringing White Sulphur Springs Ranch back to life. The blog of Plumas Sierra Rural Electric.
Copren, Bill. History of Campbel’s Hot Springs
Grimes, Gail. Eternal bliss for sale at Campbell Hot Springs. Sierra Sun. February 4 1977
Prudy, Tim. Indian Valley Hot Springs Plumas County. Exploring Lassen County’s Past. April 10 2022
Waring, G.A. Book of Springs of California. 1915
Westmoreland, Lauren. A secret sanctuary thrives in Sierra Valley. Plumas News. January 30 2017.