The River Electric, a camp resort and swim club, recently opened in Guerneville, Calif. (Courtesy of the River Electric)

The Mad Mouse is dead! Long live the Mad Mouse. The rollicking roller coaster at J's Amusement Park twisted through the redwoods by the Russian River for decades before permanently shuttering 22 years ago. Now, a more congenial rodent represents this 12-acre floodplain outside Guerneville. It's called the River Rat: a logo - and lifestyle - created by the River Electric, the latest glamping resort to appear along these rural riverbanks in the Bay Area.

On a Tuesday afternoon leading up to the Fourth of July, after years of development, festivities at the River Electric were underway. Children waded into the central 60-foot-diameter pool as parents relaxed along the edge. Millennial women tanned on the lawn next to vacant cornhole boards as the pool bar cranked out cocktails of every color. Everyone looked like a celebrity in disguise wearing a hat and sunglasses; however, these weren't Hollywood vacationers. Tuesday is "locals day," during which folks living in nearby ZIP codes can access the swim club for $5 - a bargain since a day pass costs $35.

The Mad Mouse roller coaster at J's Amusement Park in Guerneville before it was torn down. (Courtesy of Troy Paiva)

J's roller coaster and a mini go-kart racetrack previously drew summer crowds to this sunny meadow in West County. The Mad Mouse, a wooden apparatus known for careening kids under a redwood canopy, was the signature ride until the park closed in 2003. Its ruins are now replaced with a pair of pools, dozens of canopy tents for overnight rental and a mobile kitchen preparing a signature $40 hot dog that's served with caviar. At the check-in desk, where the haunted house used to be, there's a rack of custom red cotton shirts for sale. White stitching spells River Rat across the front.

Stories of a poolside glamping resort began circling in summer 2019 after the property was purchased by a group of friends living in Sebastopol with a background in producing luxurious outdoor events. But summers came and went without much more than bulldozers pushing dirt.

Branded shirts and other items are for sale inside the lobby at the River Electric in Guerneville, Calif., on Tuesday, June 24, 2025. (Charles Russo/SFGATE)

Two nonalcoholic beverages are served at the River Electric in Guerneville, Calif., on Tuesday, June 24, 2025. (Charles Russo/SFGATE)

Precariously located about 1,000 feet from the Russian River, the River Electric's debut hit setbacks due to the property's proclivity to flooding (it happened twice this past winter alone), but co-founder Kelsey Sheofsky said the resort was "designed for use." It plans to weather floods. Besides the pools and cement structures for the bathhouse and check-in counter, the entire River Electric infrastructure comes down in October and is stored for the winter.

"It's built for the worst," Sheofsky told SFGATE. "We'll hose [the furniture] off and then do it again in the spring."

Sheofsky, her husband Mike, and collaborators Jessie Galloway, Michael Gibson and Maggie Wilson envisioned an outdoor resort and permanent venue to complement the Sheofskys' other business. They own the production company Shelter Co., which has supported glamping events for weddings and retreats throughout California since 2011. Along with their clothing brand, The Get Out, the River Electric expands an outdoor lifestyle brand that encourages people to touch grass but without disconnecting from running water, electricity or Wi-Fi.

Inside a double tent at the River Electric in Guerneville, Calif., on Tuesday, June 24, 2025. (Charles Russo/SFGATE)

In Guerneville, the resort joins the likes of AutoCamp and Dawn Ranch as another deluxe option for Bay Area travelers to visit the Russian River while retaining certain glamour. At the River Electric, across a creek from the pools, there is a campground with dozens of tents that rent for up to $340 a night on some weekends. They're equipped with full beds, nightstands with night lights, rugs and leather butterfly chairs.

"It should fit in OK," Lynn Crescione, owner of Creekside Inn & Resort across the road from the resort, told SFGATE. "It's for people who think they want to go camping but really don't. They call it ‘glamping.'"

After purchasing the property in 2018, Sheofsky said they spent years fleshing out the permits and working with architects to build a pool club that can withstand flooding. They broke ground at the end of 2023 but halted construction twice during the following winter when the river, as it's done repeatedly, breached the riverbank.

J's Amusement Park submerged in water after a flood in Guerneville in the winter of 2017. (Justin Sullivan/Getty Images)

Sheofsky said she visited the site with her kids last winter and toured the flooded premises on the back of her paddle board. The check-in desk area was completely submerged, and there's a dark high-water mark still on the side of a cement wall. Each year, she said, they'll stash everything that isn't cemented into the ground and reopen in the middle of April.

Vestiges of J's remain but only as Easter eggs for now. There's a wooden statue leftover from the amusement park near the bridge leading into the campsite. Behind a large tent on a hill called the Knoll, the last remaining go-kart is buried in bramble bushes.

The go-kart garage at J's Amusement Park in Guerneville, Calif. (Courtesy of Troy Paiva)

Along the wire fence built around the pool area are newly planted blackberries, which will eventually stock the bar. A fruity mocktail called "On the Fence" pays tribute to the burgeoning primocanes. Another drink on the menu, "Patterson Point," is named after a swimming spot down the river in Monte Rio.

The kitchen is run out of a food truck parked behind the pool bar. The menu is rooted in typical club choices like salads, sandwiches and a smash burger, but the snacks galvanize the list. The crudités - a colorful melange of cucumbers, carrots and watermelon radish - are served in a plastic bucket a la KFC, but the standout is The High-Low Dog. Topped in creme fraiche, potato chips and black caviar, the hot dog costs $40. A less opulent version (sans caviar) is also available.

The High-Low Dog, served with caviar at the River Electric in Guerneville, Calif., on Tuesday, June 24, 2025. (Charles Russo/SFGATE)

Ahead of opening, Sheofsky said it was important that the River Electric gracefully mesh with Russian River locals. They mailed postcards to neighbors in every direction inviting them to a community gathering where they could introduce themselves and field feedback. About 75 neighbors came, and one of the big issues discussed was fire safety. In response, Sheofsky said that's why no individual campfires or barbecues are in the campground. Another concern was around massive parties getting out of hand, but Sheofsky said they're keeping event limits to 200 people. Ahead of the July holiday, the River Electric had already hosted two weddings.

The resort's ingratiating efforts were well received. Crescione said they've been polite neighbors, and Tim Bosque, manager of the Pee Wee Golf & Arcade on the other side of Highway 116, said that locals Tuesday is a hit. "They're becoming such a big part of the community," he said.

Patrons make use of the pool at the River Electric in Guerneville, Calif., on Tuesday, June 24, 2025. (Charles Russo/SFGATE)

A pickup drives by the entrance to the River Electric in Guerneville, Calif., on Tuesday, June 24, 2025 (Charles Russo/SFGATE)

Over bites of a High-Low Dog, Wilson, lead designer on the River Electric, shared how the biggest disagreement among the group was deciding on a name. She revealed that before settling on J's in Guerneville as the location, they had scouted another property in Palm Springs. While there, a van drove by with the name Desert Electric on its side. It caught the group by surprise, and the name started to stick after it became an inside joke.

When time came to design a mascot, Wilson said the parameters were clear. "Not too Mickey," she said. "And not too creepy." Drawn with a martini glass in hand and an eyeball the size of an olive, Sparky the river rat was born and has officially usurped the Mad Mouse as the benevolent creature who rules this meadow by the river.

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