Rain was blasting in horizontal sheets on a recent weekday afternoon as Ron Bergeron—road builder, rock miner, cattleman, rodeo rider and gator wrestler—surveyed his expansive outback getaway bordering the Big Cypress National Preserve and the Seminole Indian Reservation. But instead of retreating inside his comfortable cedar cabin, he donned a rain slicker and conducted a handful of guests on a wet tour of what he considers 6,000 acres of wild paradise.

“This is the farthest point of civilization that could be privately owned,” he said.

“Here we are one hour from six million people in three counties. It’s wonderful to be out here with your family and your friends.”

Bergeron, 68, a fourth-generation South Floridian with roots in Broward County, is one of only a few hundred landowners with holdings nestled in the wild lands outside urban South Florida. Called “camps” by their owners, these private enclaves range from one-room shacks with no air-conditioning on a few acres of dry land to opulent compounds with the best of modern amenities. Most of them are very difficult to reach—but, then, that’s the idea.

Each represents a tranquil haven to those who have built them.

Most of these private camps of the Everglades and Big Cypress occupy lands that mid-20th century South Florida residents purchased before the surrounding area became a national preserve or state conservation area. They have been handed down through generations or leased to outsiders who appreciate them.

Here is a peek into the camp lives of several of these Glades men and women—keepers of a culture in peril of disappearing as metropolitan South Florida expands and threatens to swallow its pioneer heritage.

‘Heaven on earth’

Bergeron used to arrive at his 6,000-acre Hendry County camp by airboat—a trip that took five hours. But that was decades ago—before the construction of Alligator Alley and before the property even belonged to him. Bergeron’s grandfather was a game warden who patrolled the area, so he sometimes got to ride along.

Nowadays, the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation commissioner can drive to his camp in about an hour by Humvee from his west Broward ranch.

“If there’s heaven on earth, it’s in the Everglades because God created it,” Bergeron said. “For me to own 6,000 acres with everything that lived on it before man came to Florida is a gift.”

Bergeron made his home away from home comfortable but far from built-out. There’s a plain cedar main house, seven guest cabins, a spacious cookhouse with an outdoor patio, and a large shed sheltering an assortment of large swamp buggies and smaller all-terrain vehicles.

The compound has underground power lines backed up by a generator—(“I didn’t cut one tree,” Bergeron said. “I went along an old timber trail.”)—and a freshwater well. The backyard of the main house is fenced for riding horses. There are 100 head of cattle, but you probably won’t see them because they range freely around the vast property.

A typical weekend for Bergeron and his large assemblage of family and friends consists of riding ATVs through cypress swamps, pine islands and prairies to look for wildlife, interspersed with homemade meals and watching football on television.