Dad made it up to camp, to a warm shredcamper welcome. Mark Sullivan rolled out the red carpet for a couple days and is putting dad up as the “Grand Poobah” of the first annual Windell’s Snowboard Camp Gorilla Games. Y’know, “For the kids.”

Dad’s gonna be the Grand Marshall, complete with a suit of royalty, an assistant to keep him watered and fed and a throne, high atop Mt. Hood. You think we are pullin’ yer leg? Think again, fuckers…

Here’s some proof from the late-night opening ceremonies:

01. “Dressing room pre-game.”
02. “Perplexed campers.”
03. “Getting warmed up.”
04. “Welcome to the Fiiiirst Annuuuuual Gorillllllllla Gaaaaaaaames!”
05. “Little gorillas.”
06. “Let the games begin.”
07. “Dad makes friends with a banana named, “Andy.”
08. “Post game decompression.”

The old man will be holding court the next couple days on the hill, so, look for him up there, in the Cascade stratosphere. Fuckin’ ay.

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This is how Evan Rose parks his rental car. A fuckin’ yellow PT Cruiser, at that:

01. “Park job.”
02. “Inspecting the cockpit.”
03. “A somewhat graceful departure.”
04. “An unimpressed local Dachshund.”

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All kinds of kick ass shit at Nightlab. Buy something.

Let us recommend a magical Gocco print by Brad Simon, Portland, Ore. Bravo, man.

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A great, dramatic shot of Wayne in his bubble, on the hands of the Roskilde crowd way over in Denmark. They got a less-than-favorable review for their late afternoon offering, but, fuck, in my estimation, they are a “night time band” when it comes to these monster festivals, and that’s that. Gotta get those lights going, and all that shit.