Pre-2006 (a Brief History of Camp Before Camp Mix)
The idea came in an instant. It was not very original. It was not very surprising nor very exciting. In fact, it was actually very obvious. It was a product seemingly born out of necessity, not out of inspiration or "pure genius." Nonetheless, it was also something seemingly made of greatness, something better than the sum of its parts. It was called Camp Mix. This is the story of its humble beginnings.
Summer. For many in the world, it is the most-loved season of the year. It is an especially big deal to any school-age child with few responsibilities but many friends and siblings. I was most fond of summer because I loved the outdoors. I loved exploring, studying insects and living within my own imagination. If I could help it, I would often spend the entire day - from bed-rise to dinnertime - completely outside.
In 1999, my family traveled to a place called Keller Ferry Campground. I assumed this was going to be like any ordinary family camping trip: unlimited mosquitos, my dad yelling at us for not helping to set up the tent, some s'mores, some miserable rainstorms. Keller turned out to have all of that, sure, but it was also so much more.
I can still remember the first time I saw the campground off in the distance as we drove down steep switchbacks in our rickety old Dodge Caravan. I remember first setting foot on the parched grass, looking out at the lake and up at the cottonwoods that provided partial shade to the entire establishment. It was unbelievably hot (peaking over 100 degrees that year) and almost everything but the lake looked brown and kind of ugly. This type of environment was completely new to me - a new land to explore. This could be fun, I thought, though I was initially unsure why my parents would drive 6 hours to a place that wasn’t particularly pretty.
Less than two minutes after we arrived, I discovered what would truly make this camping trip special: in this ragged, so-called oasis in the middle of an arid wasteland, I would have friends. I spotted Kevin Lee - one of my best friends at the time - and the rest of his family scattered across the campsites. No, it wasn't just a few of his relatives. It wasn't just his parents and sister and brothers that were there. It was his ENTIRE family. Well, at least it was all his family I knew of at the time. But his family was practically my family anyway. In fact, it was only earlier that same year when I found out that the Lees and Taitanos weren't actually our blood relatives.
One of the aspects of Camp that blew my seven-year-old mind was the longevity of the whole thing. This wasn't just a fun weekend getaway - we were there for almost two weeks. This wasn't just a vacation, this was like a summer home! A large portion of my time here was spent simply playing in the sand/dirt and riding Kevin’s bike around the campground. Seven-year-old me found this practically comparable to Disneyland. No, it was better than Disneyland. Here, I had unprecedented independence. I really could spend every waking moment outdoors, and I did. I had the freedom to run around, play pretend games with my friends and play real games with my family. Nothing I did was inherently boring, for there was something in the atmosphere here that ignited my imagination.
It was as if the very air we breathed promoted sheer optimism. Everyone was happy and friendly and relaxed. I had, in my mind, a small idea of what true paradise looked like. Even from that early age, I knew I would fondly remember Keller for the rest of my life...
‘00 - The Quarters
The year 2000 came and Y2K didn't end the world. When the millennium turned out to be just another year, another summer came. And, to my complete and utter surprise, with another summer came another Camp. This was when I found out that, apparently, Keller was a 30-year-old tradition that predated my parent's marriage. There was history here and lore to explore. Who knew that family histories and anecdotes and hyperbolized campfire tales could be so incredibly fascinating? There were so many stories for an eight-year-old to discover that a seven-year-old never could have comprehended.
The Year of the Quarters was mostly comprised of wide-eyed discovery. From learning about family genealogy to seeing what kinds of bugs a frog would eat (many), I was curious about everything. Most of my fondest memories from this year involved me off by myself. I also had a habit of hovering around my older sisters and their friends, whose social dynamics seemed so complex and alien to me. These older kids liked to trade quarters with me. The US Mint's State Quarters campaign was a new thing back then, and I had proudly memorized every state and what year they were to be released.
When I recall the first two years of Camp, memories are often played back to me like in an old sepia-toned home video. They are warm and sweet and innocent with no negative feelings attached. But those memories are also distant. Those golden memories of childhood are now getting fuzzy, so it’s becoming more difficult to accurately recount them. When 2001 came around, nine-year-old me was content with just those two years of Camp experiences. It hadn’t yet sunk in that Camp was going to be something I could look forward to each and every summer. So even with those warm memories in mind, I never could have prepared for what the coming year would mean. Even today, The Year of the Frogs remains a poignant staple of my childhood. It would be the year that forever cemented Camp as one of my favorite places on Earth.
‘01 - The Frogs
The beach was moving. Or at least, that was my initial thought when I looked out toward the water on the first morning. It was a dry year, so the lake’s water level was very low and the beach was larger than normal. And it was moving. Upon closer inspection, we quickly realized that it was not the sand that was moving - frogs were. A countless number (maybe thousands) of tiny quarter-sized frogs were bustling up and down the shore between the grass and the lake. I had never seen so many frogs in my life, and I doubt I ever will again.
Two days and dozens of captured frogs later, we had built a grand habitat in the sand for our amphibious friends. Josh and Kevin were the primary architects for this “Frog City.” I spent most of my time decorating it and reinforcing the walls. Lisa and Melanie, the dynamic Taitano cousin-sisters, contributed as well. Little Keisha, Brian and Jesse brought in a steady supply of new citizens (including rocks!). In hindsight, we were definitely killing those frogs by leaving them exposed to direct sunlight (which future me would cringe to think of), but boy if we weren’t having the time of our lives in the process!
There were plenty more activities that year, but all of them are completely overshadowed by my gleeful memories of the capturing of frogs. This was the first year I really noticed that Camp had a nightlife. I saw that many of the older kids and adults would stay up late and play cards, have drinks and tell stories. However, my memories of those night activities are also overshadowed by frogs. We came to discover that, at night, the number of frogs on the beach would increase dramatically. It was hard to take a single step in the sand for fear of squishing a little guy.
Along with those little guys, night was when the big frogs came out. Kevin and his cousin Ryan, along with me and Josh, armed ourselves with buckets and flashlights and set out to capture one of the “giant” frogs. Or perhaps they were toads. Whatever they were, they were hard to catch. After many coordinated attack plans had failed, we finally caught one and named him “Squeaky”. The next morning, we migrated Squeaky over to Frog City, where, much to our dismay, he immediately jumped over the wall and escaped. The rest of that day was spent “Squeaky-proofing” the entire construct - building walls tall enough and strong enough to hold him in.
2001 was the first year I really took note of music that people played at Camp. Coldplay was very popular and probably my favorite band at the time. Their debut album Parachutes was the first album I absolutely fell in love with. Jack Johnson had debuted earlier that year, and Camp was the very first place I heard him, where various songs from Brushfire Fairytales were mixed-in with Bob Marley, Dave Matthews and No Doubt over someone’s boombox. All the kids my age and older listened to Weezer, and their new Green Album settled in along with Third Eye Blind, Incubus’ Make Yourself and... some more No Doubt, for whatever reason.
There was something very significant about this music and its connection to Camp. I just didn’t know it yet.
‘02-03 - Stuff Happens
The next couple years are only notable for being rather unnotable. The most memorable thing from 2002, the Year Without Sandals, was the fact that I forgot to bring my sandals. So of course I borrowed Kevin’s pair, but I soon lost them. So I then borrowed my sister Kirsten’s pair, but soon lost those as well. I was not allowed to borrow sandals after that.
The next year was short (only a weekend) and empty (I only remember Kevin’s family), so it’s known as the Year No One Came. It’s hard for either of these years to stand out in my memory because the Year of the Frogs shines so much brighter.
After those two years, Camp started to become something I took for granted. It was just camping with some friends. I still fondly remembered 2001, but that almost felt like it happened in a different dimension, some other magical place far away from Keller. Nothing like that was going to happen again. No year could ever come close, right?
Enter 2004: the Year of Chess. The dawn of a new era.
‘04 - Checkmate
I was twelve. I was becoming my own independent person. I wasn’t terribly shy anymore, but I was still a reasonably quiet and observant kid - mature enough and socially aware enough to keep up with most adult conversations - yet still filled with wonder and optimism and a love for people and music and all of God’s beautiful creation. When I look back now, I usually assess that this was the prime of my childhood.
This sweetspot age between adolescence and wide-eyed youth was just one ingredient in the cocktail that comprised this unforgettable year. Every circumstance was just right. Nearly everyone came: Lees and Taitanos and more. The weather was perfect. The lake wasn’t too low or too high. Most people stayed for two full weeks. And somebody brought a glass chessboard.
There are so many little modicums of goodness that made up this wholly awesome year. I’m sure I could write a series of articles on Camp ‘04 alone. From kayak relay races to water balloon fights, from exploring starmaps to exploring bike trails, from boat trips to inflatable orca whales, from red licorice to pocket computers, from dam shows to joint-BBQs, from ‘Crazy Eights’ to three-move checkmates. This year was all-new and all-inclusive. It kicked off traditions that would seem to never fade.
A huge component to this year’s success was the music. Instead of an iPod, I had an ultra-nerdy Dell Pocket PC with a 128MB SD card loaded to the brim with some of my favorites - Coldplay, Jimmy Eat World, Jack Johnson, Oasis, Weezer, Incubus, and more. I also discovered or rediscovered so many new favorites through my friends’ and family’s collections: The Ramones, The Cure, David Bowie, Queen, Franz Ferdinand, Yellowcard, America, Bread, Chicago, James Taylor, Steve Miller Band, The Cranberries, Alanis Morissette, Semisonic, Hoobastank, Dave Matthews, Death Cab for Cutie, Thrice, Beck, Radiohead… The list is endless. Practically every song I heard became a new personal favorite. My musical taste seemed to explode overnight. I had a little notebook with me just to keep track of every new thing I learned about.
And I learned a lot. Aside from music, I was determined to absorb everything I could. I was optimistic and patient enough to listen to almost anyone about almost anything. The Lees would have bible readings each week and consider the Daily Text each morning, so I strived to make it over to their campsite early enough in the day to join in. I wanted to learn every card game I could: gin rummy, crazy eights, speed, nerts, aces up, poker, etc. I was older now, so I could stay up late enough to play these games. And then there was chess. Boy, did we play a lot of chess. Who knew the very foundation of a lasting friendship could be built upon a chessboard?
All of these games and activities and countless things to do, see and hear would have meant nothing without the right friends to experience them with. That’s what makes Camp ‘04 stand out most: it solidified foundations for some of the best friendships I would ever have. Prior to this camp year, I had already been friends with Ryan, but after this year I easily regarded him as one of my best friends. Kevin and I had never been closer. Macauley joined us this year and he made (almost) every moment even better. The lasting effects of these strengthened relationships were perhaps slightly overshadowed by the formation of two new friendships: Brian (age eight) and Lisa (age eleven), who would soon become two of my favorite people in existence.
‘05 and Beyond
2005 was, understandably, somewhat disappointing in comparison. Brian and Lisa were off in Japan and quite a few unmentioned Camp mainstays were not present this year. However, I was not without good friends to keep me occupied. Macauley had joined us once again, and an awesome newcomer named Steve helped keep things fun and exciting. This was a “boys year.” Between me, Kevin, Josh, Mac, Steve and Ryan, not only was my group completely comprised of teenage boys, most of our activities involved decidedly boyish things: racing/competing, jumping off things, arm-wrestling, fart jokes, lightsaber duels, high-fives, crocheting. You know, the usual stuff.
Incredibly, somebody also brought a full-sized ping-pong table. The older kids - Tyler, Colby and Ben - thought they would dominate, but it was the old-timers - Mark Lee, my dad and my uncle Koke - who absolutely schooled them. Kevin, Mac and I practiced a lot, though those two were far more skilled than I was. People from all over the campground (not of our group) would line up to challenge us. This all led to a ping-pong tournament, with the finals consisting of uncle Koke and one of the older boys. Twenty or more people stood around to watch while snacks and drinks were served.
I named this the “Year of the Screech” after the annoying screeching owls that loved to keep us up at night and watch our small dogs and small children. Also, a lot of post-punk and harder rock artists like Linkin Park, Rise Against, Alexisonfire, Chevelle and continued Thrice and Incubus exposure, where the screech of distorted guitars and belted vocals prevailed, were a big influence throughout this year. But that’s merely a recently observed coincidence.
Six hours there, six hours back. The trip to Keller Ferry Campground sure was lengthy. It was a trip where I was extremely prone to carsickness, boredom and antsiness. On the way to Camp, the buildup of anticipation could’ve been palpable. I needed to find a way to alleviate this pressure, something to help fill the massive time-gap between home and Keller.
Finally, we reach 2006: Year of the Riddles. It was another incredible year and one where music played its biggest role yet. Yes, Camp ‘06 was extra special because I came prepared. I brought a mix.
Stay tuned for History of Camp Mix - Part II.
For reference, here’s a list of all thirteen of my years at Camp, divided into three “eras”:
Silver Era:
1999: Year of Reunion (Year One)
2000: Year of the Quarters
2001: Year of the Frogs
2002: Year Without Sandals
2003: Year No One Came
Golden Era:
2004: Year of Chess
2005: Year of the Screech
2006: Year of the Riddles
2007: Year of the Wenis
“Olden” Era:
2008: Year the Wind Blows
2009: Year of the Storm (Year of the Flies)
2010: Year of Glowsticks and Chaos
2011: Year of the Beer Idols
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