The summer vacation season is in full swing. Millions of Americans are heading to the wilderness to get away from it all.

Imagine this: You’ve pitched your tent and set up camp along a fresh stream. You look over, and there, camping next to you, are Bill Gates, Elon Musk, and Jeff Bezos, just hanging out together.

No, it’s not the start of a joke. It really happened once. Well, the 1910s version, anyway.

In the early days of the 20th century, a new type of business titan was rising in America. Henry Ford was mass producing an automobile that everyday Americans could afford. Harvey Firestone made the newfangled rubber tires that got newly mobile Americans where they wanted to go. And Thomas Edison’s inventions gave them all light, sound, and power.

These three men were very rich, very famous, and — here’s the amazing part—they were friends who enjoyed hanging out together.

It all started in 1914. Edison, the man who gave us electric lightbulbs, phonographs, movies, and too many other inventions to list, wanted to relax. He retreated to the hills of upstate New York, taking John Burroughs, the legendary naturalist and conservationist, with him. They hiked, ate outdoors, and passed the nights in tents. Edison had a blast. Telling Ford about it later, he mentioned it would be fun to round up the gang and head into the Great Outdoors next year.

Henry Ford took the ball and ran with it. He invited Edison, Burroughs, and their BFF Firestone for an adventure. But Ford had more in mind than a simple summer vacation.

The man neighbors once sneeringly called “Crazy Henry” was a promotional genius. He knew four famous Americans traveling off the beaten path would make headlines and get people talking. Plus, he wanted to inspect roads and travel conditions in remote areas to see how well his Model-T cars performed in them.

The group quickly dubbed themselves “The Vagabonds.” But when they set out on their trip in early August 1915, they didn’t leave like wandering nomads. Far from it.

There were cars. Lots and lots of cars. (And you can guess which automaker most of them came from.) Because there was staff. Lots of and lots of staff. There were personal assistants (these were powerful figures on Wall Street after all) and cooks, photographers to document the adventure, mechanics in case the cars broke down, and chauffeurs to drive them all. There were trucks for hauling the tents and cots, and stoves. There were water tanks, iceboxes, and portable bathtubs. And there was a ton of food as well, everything from gourmet goodies to bacon and eggs. Plus, a large supply of Havana cigars and liquid refreshments.

A century before the word was ever used, these celebrity businessmen were “glamping.”

The caravan roared out of the Midwest into Pennsylvania, on to West Virginia, then down to Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. Along the way, the Vagabonds fell into a routine.

First, there was a base camp, where all non-VIPs stayed. Tents were then pitched for the star attractions. Edison brought early portable batteries and strung up electric lights. Burroughs could be counted on to cast a line in any nearby body of water (he always brought his trusty fishing rod with him) and led the group on nature walks, explaining plant and wildlife details along the way.

Edison always had a phonograph playing, and boxes filled with gadgets to tinker with, which he did late into the night.

But the highlight was the long, relaxed conversations, as four American legends relaxed under the stars and talked about everything under the sun. These weren’t TED Talks; they were free-ranging exchanges of ideas. Production, automation, and technology were favorite subjects. So was philosophy, politics, and the most nagging question of existence, the meaning of life. These were some of the great visionaries of the early 20th century, and in the comfort of trusted friends, they could talk openly and freely.

Consider this exchange.

Ford: “I believe the soul returns. How else could I know the things I know?”

Edison: “The universe doesn’t care what you believe—but you should.”

Everyone had a blast; so much fun, in fact, they decided to do it again in 1916. And in 1917. And then every year thereafter.

Word of the celebrity confabs spread (due in no small part to Ford’s promotion). Crowds began following them, with a heavy press presence. Little wonder, then, that even Presidents Warren Harding and Calvin Coolidge each dropped by their campsite.

Nothing good lasts forever, and so it was with the Vagabands. Burroughs’ death in 1921 took a lot of the joy out of it for Edison. The ever-larger crowds of celebrity gawkers annoyed him. Ford and Firestone had a falling out. Their 1924 getaway was the last.

Still, it’s remarkable to think about a century later. An assemblage of brilliance, living like kings while pretending to be middle-class campers, holding one deeply profound conversation after another. It’ll be a long time until we see anything like that again.