CAMPiTA 2016: Shred together, camp together

words: Joel Fraser

Six summers on, CAMPiTA is the wonderful déjà vu we look forward to all year. An annual extended family reunion, if you will. Every time the same, yet always different.

There has been savage torrential rain, dirt bikes, hail storms, fire bans and the ensuing visits from park rangers, interlopers, a low snow year, and many other random variables. But the base plan always remains the same: shred together, camp together.


Miyeong Yamaguchi was one of a handful of Japanese friends who made it to CAMPiTA.


Left: I was hoping the shadow would be in the shape of Scott Stevens’ two dogs, but no such luck. F/s air in the superpipe. | Right: Scott UFD on the bottom QP. If you listen closely, you can still hear his dog Oak barking on hill.

Kaede Yasunaga getting slashy in a frontal manner. Kaede and his twin bro Hayate have now made it to three CAMPiTAs. おつかれさまでした。


Phil Jacques, tail to fakie. Phil left a can of homemade maple syrup (straight from Quebec) in front of my tent. There are many reasons I love PJ, and this is just one.


Left: Mike Rav getting into his frontal spray. | Right: Laying back an air on the tuber. There were no chipmunks in his tent this year.


Rav, still fired up from McRad, getting UFD while C3’s Johan Malkoski clacks a shot from the opposite angle.

Lot lurking is a fun and important aspect of summer shred at Hood. Rav getting 70s with some cone slalom.

Then we nestle ourselves into our lake nook twenty minutes from Govy, and catch up with friends around the campfire. Off hill, standard camping activities occur, such as, but not limited to: BB gun shooting, swimming (aka bathing), crawdad catching, campfire sitting, tomahawk throwing, herbal and beverage imbibing, snoring, dust collection and so on.

Left: Brisse getting down on the BB skills course. Kevin Backstrom looks on, about to show Burgs that Swedes CAN shoot, they just don’t go berserk on each other like Americans do. | Right: Post-shred salt and sunscreen rinse.

Garrett “Worm” Warnick put his feet in the lake and said to me, “it’s kinda cold”. Then did a comedic swan dive belly flop, and proceeded to swim across the lake. He deserved his spliffy time.

Next level non-standard camp activities occured when Emmet Klocker (who normally treats us to a mind blowing meal twice per camp) brought along a friend. This friend happened to be a professional chef (an award winning chef, I might add), who kindly provided haute cuisine camp grub in the form of smoked salmon and a whole pig. To call these meals “next level” would massively underestimate what went down.

Chef Erik Anderson and Emmet Klocker. Everyone at camp is deeply indebted to these two fine gents.


Brisse about to have a rare, non-cheeseburger meal from Chef Erik.


Some say you can hear Blatt strumming the blues.

The terms “unreal” and “best ever” were overheard numerous times. Erik, we humbly request your presence next year. Big thanks, as always, to High Cascade staff, diggers and campers, for epic shred times. To CAPiTA’sMark Dangler and Union’s Riley Goodwin for organization and logistics. And to Johan, for early morning coffees and the secret bucket toilet. And of course, to everyone around the campfire, from both near and far, thank you for being you.

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