For thirty years, this event has been more than a weekend gathering — it’s been a living, breathing tradition. What started as a small get-together has grown into something unforgettable: a community built on friendship, freedom, and the kind of memories that never fade.
This year’s milestone celebration proved one thing — the spirit that started it all is still alive and kicking.
A Weekend to Remember
Under perfect skies, campers rolled in by the dozens. By Friday afternoon, the air was thick with laughter, the smell of barbecue, and the sound of guitars tuning up on the main stage. Fire pits glowed as friends reunited, sharing stories of past years and raising a drink to the big 3-0.
When the sun dipped below the horizon, the stage came alive. Bands delivered everything from soulful blues to hard rock that shook the ground. Then came the man everyone waited for — POGO, the master of ceremonies and the heart of the party. His energy was contagious. Whether he was cracking jokes, hyping up the crowd, or getting volunteers to join in on some harmless fun, POGO knew how to keep the spirit alive.
Music, Laughter, and Meaning
As the night wore on, the field transformed into a sea of dancing lights and music. But amid all the celebration came a moment of deep emotion. A massive American flag was raised on stage — not just for show, but for purpose. The organizers announced that the flag would be sent overseas to a unit serving in Afghanistan, carrying with it hundreds of handwritten messages from festivalgoers.
In an instant, the party paused. One by one, people lined up to sign their names — short notes of gratitude, encouragement, and love. Even POGO stood quietly, watching as the flag filled with stories. When it was raised again, illuminated under the night sky, the crowd erupted in cheers. It wasn’t just noise — it was pride, unity, and a reminder of what community really means.
A Celebration of Freedom
Saturday brought a new wave of excitement. The campground turned into its own little town — smoke rising from grills, kids running with painted faces, and vendors selling everything from handmade crafts to racks of ribs. The air smelled of chili, barbecue, and roasted corn — the scent of tradition itself.
As evening fell, the second lineup of bands took the stage, with POGO leading the charge once more. “Thirty years!” he shouted into the mic. “You crazy legends did it again!” The crowd roared back, drinks lifted high in celebration.
It didn’t matter if this was your first time or your thirtieth — here, everyone belonged.
A Farewell and a Promise
By Sunday morning, the party had softened to a peaceful calm. Campfires burned low, and people moved slowly, packing up after two unforgettable nights. Before leaving, many stopped by the stage one last time to see the flag — now completely covered in names, waiting to be sent across the world.
As cars pulled away and the sound faded, you could still feel the weekend’s magic hanging in the air. The laughter, the music, the late-night stories — all part of a tradition that refuses to fade.
Because this isn’t just an event. It’s a legacy — one built on camaraderie, celebration, and freedom. Thirty years later, it’s still burning brighter than ever.