Monday, August 3rd, 2026 – The Bass Canyon Origin Story
It all started back in the ancient times.
Back before the dinosaurs walked the earth...
Back in 2022.
The year my daughter Amethyst and I organized the first great trek to...
BASS CANYON.
The great Excision-fueled, heavy-as-mercury, dubstep Wub Fest at The Gorge in Washington State.
Three days of camping, hiking, and HEAVY BASS MUSIC.
The tribe trekked across deserts and mountains, through heat, sun, and wind—and absolutely no rain. We endured temperatures well over a hundred degrees, wandered across sun-baked desert rock to discover the spider matrix webs and the cool waters of the Columbia River.
Along the way, we picked up two strays who have since become dear members of the Tribe.
We flew our banners.
Accepted random Jell-O shots from neighboring camps.
Laughed until our sides hurt.
And when it was all over...
We sat in a circle on the grass of our mostly broken-down camp at 2:00 AM Monday morning and shared our Rose, Thorn, and Leaf.
Before anyone drove away, we made a commitment.
We would gather again that December. Not for another festival, but for something deeper. A winter circle. A celebration of my daughter Amethyst's birthday. A remembrance of the new friends... the new family... discovered at Bass Canyon 2022.
Then we packed up.
Already awake for nearly twenty-four hours.
With another fourteen-hour drive still ahead of us.
Somewhere out on the highway, we traded pounding bass for old classic rock on the radio. We compared Bass Canyon to EDC. We laughed. We reflected.
And somewhere in those quiet miles...
I wondered.
Would I ever return?
Would I ever stand again on that magical hillside overlooking the Gorge?
Would I watch another impossible sunset melt into the Columbia River?
Would I once again breathe in that strange mixture of dust, friendship, gratitude, lasers, fireworks, and impossibly deep bass... feeling my heart thump in rhythm with thousands of beautiful strangers?
Would I ever return?