WHITE PINES -- A scenic lake surrounded by towering trees, well-manicured parks and a brand-new museum are just a few of the details that make this tiny Calaveras County town special in the eyes of those who live here.

But it's the town's lone road sign that sets White Pines apart from the county's other heavenly hamlets.

Anyone who has driven down Blagen Road into the heart of this one-time logging stronghold has seen the sign:

WHITE PINES FOUNDED 1938 IS NOT ARNOLD

No, you won't find any upscale art galleries, half-million dollar homes, strip malls or chain pizza parlors here. You will, though, find more than a hundred hearty souls who are fiercely proud of their community and its history and would no sooner move than they would stand for being confused with nearby Arnold.

It's a town that owes its existence to a sawmill owner named Frank Blagen, who chose to move his business there in 1938 after he ran out of trees to feed his mill in the Sierra County town of Calpine.

Blagen struck a deal with the Calaveras Land and Timber Co. for some 25,000 acres of forestland and a site for his new mill and, just like that, the town of White Pines was born.

Pat Bradley, Blagen's granddaughter, said upwards of 200 people picked up and moved from Calpine to the new mill town, which was virtually nothing but trees at the time.

Many workers stayed in tents until the first homes were built on streets that Bradley's father, Howard Blagen, surveyed and named.

And named rather blandly, at that.

"My dad was a hard worker and a good engineer, but he was not very creative," Bradley said, referring to the four-block-by-four-block town's street names.

"He came up with A, B, C, D, and First, Second, Third and Fourth," she said. "My mother, who was very creative and artistic, gave him the worst time about those names."

White Pines' earliest settlers didn't mind the plain names; they were just glad to have homes and jobs in the midst of the Great Depression.

Dale Brooks, who moved to White Pines in 1939 and still lives there, said he lived in two shacks and a tent before his family secured a home.

"We had a little wood stove in the tent to keep us warm in the winter," said Brooks, who worked for legendary logger "Doc" Linebaugh, the head of Blagen's logging operations. "And when it was hot in the summer, you'd turn those (tent) flaps up and hope for a breeze to go through."

Annabelle Jordan was only 9 when her family moved up from Gridley. It didn't take her long to feel at home.

"I liked it very much," the
74-year-old Jordan recalled of her first impressions of White Pines, circa 1940. "I remember liking the trees and the fresh air. And I loved the mountains. I'm not a flatlander whatsoever."

As a youngster, Jordan liked to hike and camp out in the woods. At night, she said, neighborhood youngsters would get together and build bonfires. "There was no booze, no drugs," she said. "Just good clean get-togethers for the kids."

Like Brooks, Jordan liked life in White Pines so much that she never left. In fact, a number of the town's 50 or so modest homes are occupied by some of its earliest settlers, including Jordan's mother, Ruth James, 96.

Some who grew up in White Pines and moved away but came back. Annette Linebaugh was 10 when she arrived in 1942. After living in Los Angeles for a few years, she returned and married a man who grew up across the street from her in White Pines -- Doc Linebaugh's son, Bruce.

The thought of leaving White Pines never occurred to Annette Linebaugh, who will celebrate her 50th wedding anniversary in January.

"I can't imagine living anywhere else," she said. "I like the fact that it's small. You don't have the hubbub of the city.

"There are no new homes. There's been no development right here. I think that's what we like about it. It's just about the same as it was."

There have been a few changes. The mill folded in the 1960s, and the old grocery store and post office also closed. But there have been some noteworthy additions, and the town still has its share of landmarks.

White Pines Lake, for example, was completed in 1970 and serves as a recreation magnet for visitors and residents alike. Courtwright Emerson Ballpark entertains softball teams.

The Ebbetts Pass Moose Lodge and Independence Hall, the latter of which occupies the original Hazel Fischer Elementary School building, provide valuable space for community get-togethers.

And the long-awaited Sierra Nevada Logging Museum, built near the lake on what once was the old sawmill workers' camp, is nearly finished.

Those amenities and White Pines' sheer Sierra beauty have attracted some newcomers in recent years. Bay Area transplant Carol Lucia, who moved to White Pines two years ago, said she loves the quiet, the animals and the vegetation.

"And my grandkids love it," she said. "They can take their rafts and walk across the street to the lake."

Some who didn't grow up in White Pines but nevertheless feel connected to the place have managed to find homes there at last.

Jenni Dutton-Cantrell, for example, swears she was conceived in White Pines -- "in the first house on the right side," she said -- and she feels fortunate to have snagged a house there after leaving the military a few years ago.

"The people have worked hard to turn this community into something different," she said. "These little houses aren't going anywhere. And there's no homeowners association telling you what you can or can't do in your house or your yard.

"I'm living in Roy Armstrong's old house. And I'm really lucky to live there."

That's the way many White Pines residents feel. In fact, they are so proud of their town, they had to make it clear that White Pines should not be lumped together with neighboring Arnold.

"Some hard-headed old lady who lived here most of her life didn't like the fact that the Arnold people said White Pines was Arnold," said Jordan, who is, in fact, that "hard-headed old lady."

"We have the ballpark, we have the lake, we have the school, and we have the museum. But whenever anything is advertised, it's always in Arnold. None of us liked that. We're very proud of our community, and we want everyone to know it's White Pines."

So, does the old town have a bit of an inferiority complex? County Supervisor Merita Callaway, who represents the area, doesn't think so.

"I think the people are just proud of their community -- and they should be," she said. "With the ballpark and the Moose Lodge and the school and the lake and the museum, they realize they're an integral part of the larger community.

"But they're their own community, too. And they want their own identity."