HILLSBORO, W.Va. -- A mint condition 1978 Mercedes-Benz coupe pulls up next to a barefoot, 20-something love child.

Jon C. Hancock, Associated Press
Chris Montesano, left, of Washington, talks to Sonya Sophia Illig and Sunxine, of Texas, on the Shakedown Street at the Rainbow Family gathering near Hillsboro, W.Va. For some of the thousands camped out this week in the Monongahela National Forest, the gathering is a vacation from jobs and reality. For others, it is a chance to live without authority, structure or money. Some people pray for peace, to be part of something larger than themselves. And some, like the homeless, come because they have nowhere else.
Click photo for larger image.

The Mercedes slows to a stop and Shawn, a makeshift parking attendant who doesn't want to give his last name, runs up to the window to see how he can help. Shawn, who has his overalls rolled up to his knees and is shooing bees away from his dreadlocks, has made a 12-day trip hitchhiking across the country to come camp out by the side of the Highland Scenic Highway and direct traffic for the Rainbow Family of the Living Light.

For the next couple of days, more than 8,000 people are expected to make their way past Shawn as they gather for a non-gathering, of a non-organization, which culminates with a prayer for world peace tomorrow and a moment of silence that lasts from morning to midday.

In the middle of the Monongahela National Forest, in the heart of West Virginia, where a radio disc jockey refers to the American flag as the "Stars 'n Bars," a reunion is taking place that suits its natural surroundings, but follows no frame of conventional thought.

There are no leaders, no structure, no official spokespeople and no membership.

Instead, the Rainbow Family forms a camping community through shared "traditions" of love for Earth, and gatherings to pray for peace. There are, of course, all the elements that come with a movement steeped in counterculture and the mixing of 8,000 different ways of life, philosophies and drugs.

Lots of the participants don't want to provide their surnames to a reporter, on principle or because they are smoking marijuana. Others adopt artificial names for their stays here, names such as Peace and Love, that they say symbolize their membership in the Rainbow Family.

"This guy wants to know where he can get some good pot," Shawn yells back to the ragtag group of old hippies, new age peaceniks, anti-war activists, Vietnam War veterans and environmentalists.

Jon C. Hancock, Associated Press
Trent Sever, 22, of Rapid City, S.D., makes mud and rock sculptures at the Rainbow Family gathering, being held near Hillsboro, W.Va. Sever recently returned from a year with the Army in Iraq.
Click photo for larger image.

The driver of the Mercedes, dressed in a pastel polo shirt, waits to hear the young man's answer.

"Tell him to go down to the site," yells back Patrick, who, like Shawn, doesn't want to give his last name. The 58-year-old, who wears no shirt, a turquoise necklace to his naval, a giant silver bracelet and huge, lavender sunglasses, is in charge of Welcome Center for the group. The center is three chairs, a tarpaulin and the leftovers of a smoldering log fire. Patrick cackles with delight.

The 40 years that have passed between the current generation of peace activists and the flower generation has not changed much. Sure, the world has seen its share of bloodshed, wars, famine and injustice, but the need to pray for peace, protect Earth and stand in protest of the establishment hasn't disappeared.

"We are the undesirable Americans," said Bryan Michaels, a lawyer and Rainbow Family member from Eugene, Ore. "We see all the boxes everyone tries to place us in and the social stigma that comes along with it. And we recognize the freedom that comes along with the gathering and how that melts all of those boxes away."

'The L.A.Ws'

Since 1972, the Rainbow Family has been gathering in national parks across the continental United States. The gatherings may have been about peace, but the presence of law enforcement quickly drowns out any feeling of the complete freedom that comes along with being one with the wilderness.

The U.S. Forest Service has been monitoring the gatherings since their inception. The agency sends teams of people from across the nation and coordinates an interagency multi-task force to handle the influx of gatherers.

The agency treats the gathering as an emergency that requires the involvement of all local, federal and emergency response teams to work together. State police, U.S. forest rangers and county and local police officers patrol the Rainbow grounds in five-minute intervals. One marked SUV after another passes by the welcome center.

Last month, a team of Forest Service officers turned campers away from a nearby area and issued 145 citations to Rainbow Family members because they failed to get a noncommercial use permit for the park, which is required for groups of 75 or more.

"The Forest Service has become a distraction and a disease," Michaels said.

On Wednesday, the Cranberry Glades Visitors Center was turned into a federal courtroom to hear the cases. On hand were U.S. marshals and West Virginia state police.

If the campers pleaded no contest, they had to pay $30 fines. If they pleaded not guilty, they will reappear in front of a federal court for a trial.

This is indicative of the tug and pull between the gatherers' lack of bureaucracy, which is central to their philosophy, and law enforcement officers' need for regulation and order.

As the officers make their rounds, shouts travel from gatherer to gatherer "Six-up! Six-up!"

The shouts are a warning call that stand for the number of lights on top of patrol cars.

Freedom in the bush

Brad Muirhead and Johnny Zuloufos traveled the 240 miles from Pittsburgh just to feel free.

Being gay in Pittsburgh means watching whether you hold hands in public or get too close.

But in the middle of the forest, as members of the Rainbow Family, they are one of the "we," no longer outsiders.

"I can hold his hand and its not a strange thing," said Muirhead, 22. "It strips away the mainstream and the excesses of society."

For many of the campers who come here, it's the sense that they are a part of a human entity and no longer castaways that propels them to live a life without constraints for a month.

Food is provided by "kitchens," which serve everything from roasted potatoes to oil drum-oven bread. There are even camps dedicated to rolling cigarettes.

Kirsten Harris, 24, who is from England, was lost on a search for tea. Her dark rogue dreads bounced along with her every step. For the past three months, she has been on an American road tour.

The last time she talked to her mother was through an e-mail she sent that read, "Mum, I'm going on a trip with a dready pixie. Don't be surprised if you don't hear from me."

That was a month ago.

Harris represents a small core of internationalist gatherers, some are from Germany, a couple from Israel, but they all have gathered to share an international message of peace.

Everything is free, but participants are encouraged to make trades, bartering for objects or services, not money.

The living is as close to a hippie utopia as can be imagined. Roaming naked people giving hugs to the weary. Mother Nature is plentiful and music wafts through the air wherever you float.

"Nobody gets left behind," said Love, one of the Rainbow elders and a nondenominational pastor from a church in Kankakee, Ill.. "Everybody here is in their best way trying to find love."

The cluster of camps, some with posts marking their spots, are not all a part of the counterculture, but there are many dedicated to the spiritual pursuit of finding God, Yahweh, Allah or Vishnu.

Several camps belong to groups with church, synagogue, mosque, temple and cult affiliations.

Some camps are even against the promotion of peace and harmony. The A-camp is notorious for heavy drinking and brawl seeking. The name is driven by both a descriptor for the type of people they are and the copious amounts of liquor campers there drink.

Yet all of these entities seem to fit perfectly together.

"We are A-politcal," said Patrick, the Rainbow greeter. "We just want to show the whole world that the human race isn't so screwed up."

First Published: July 3, 2005, 4:00 a.m.