I remember meeting Hovik Hopar for the first time at Mike's "surprise" birthday party during high school. I arrived a bit late and missed out on the surprise and the BBQ session that had taken place. Then, Hovik Hopar saw me and said something along the lines of, "You must be hungry," and proceeded to light a new fire for some BBQ. I don't recall if I was hungry, but I do remember telling him “No need to do new bbq” so as not to inconvenience this man whom I had just met. At the time, I didn't know this, but Hovik Hopar loved being around fire and needed only the slightest of reasons to start one. I also had no idea that this was just the beginning of many more amazing moments I would share with him gathered around a fire.
One of the first times I went camping with Hovik Hopar, Mike and I got lost on the way there and ended up arriving around midnight. Hopar and his friends were practically asleep in their chairs around a nice campfire. I went to say hi and noticed that Hovik Hopar was sitting a little too close to the fire, and the soles of his shoes were literally melting off. I brought it to his attention, but to my surprise, he really didn't seem to mind. Then Mike came in and reassured me that this was all very normal and joked that he had a collection of melted shoes stored in the garage from previous camping trips. I'm not ashamed to admit that throughout the years, I've managed to melt a few shoes myself, and with each one of them, I'm always reminded of this story.
To no surprise, the first thing Hopar did was make sure we ate some fish from their catch earlier that day. Then he asked Mike to put some lavash in a pan for the bears to eat overnight. Hopar's hospitality really knew no limits. Before going to sleep, he let us know that he had already fed the entire campground and that we didn't have to worry about making too much noise. He really knew how to navigate the campground's social dynamics, and it was one of the many traits he passed down to us over the years. Naturally, Mike and I grabbed a bottle of vodka and spent the rest of the night stargazing, talking, and laughing until we were in tears. I'll never forget what an awesome night that was.
The next morning, it was all business for Hopar. He was asking us how many fish we were going to catch and who would catch the biggest one. This man was serious about his fishing. I don't think I have ever seen someone so competitive about what some may consider a hobby. There's no doubt that Hovik Hopar's competitive love for fishing has played a role in managing the fish population in the rivers of California for many years. He passed down that competitive spirit to our group of friends, and eventually, our camping trips started to resemble that of fishing tournaments.
Besides his passion for fishing, I will always remember Hovik Hopar as an excellent storyteller, particularly when it came to sharing his past fishing experiences. His favorite part of the story (and probably ours too) was showcasing the size of the fish he had caught. If you had spent some time around a campfire with him, you knew when that moment was approaching. He would sit up in his chair, glance left and right to add suspense, and then, with his hands about two feet apart, demonstrate the size of the fish. Most of his fishing stories concluded this way, almost like a punchline, but he was never joking about any of it. As expected, over the years, our group of friends adopted this tradition whenever one of us shared a tale of catching a big fish.
When Hopar wasn't telling stories around the campfire, he would often play Russian songs on his guitar or entertain us with his repertoire of jokes. Once he started, we knew we were in for our very own comedy club around the campfire. It didn't matter if we had already heard the joke before because his delivery made it even funnier. Aside from the jokes, my favorite part was when someone wasn't paying attention or engaged in a separate conversation. Hopar would playfully call them out, making sure they were properly focused, and then continue with the story or joke.
One of the most eventful and unforgettable fishing trips I've ever experienced was when Mike and I joined Hopar, his friends Hovik and Nshan, at their campsite. The following day, we all got into the pickup truck and drove deep into the mountains in search of the elusive Californian Golden Trout. Eventually, we arrived at a location that resembled an enchanted forest, so we decided it was the perfect place to park and start our hike. We hiked and walked for hours, venturing far into the depths of the forest. I had never felt so disconnected from any signs of civilization in my life.
Maybe a few hours into our walk, we spotted a man approaching us with camping gear strapped to his backpack. As he came nearer, we noticed that he was also carrying a shotgun and had a massive machete hanging from his side. Meanwhile, each of us had our fishing gear and a fishing pole in hand. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Hovik Hopar didn't miss the chance to immediately nickname this man as "Rambo." It turned out that he had been walking in our direction for about four hours and was armed because we were in a dangerous part of the forest. After our encounter with "Rambo," we realized that continuing along our current path was useless so we decided to split up and try to locate the river by walking downstream.
In hindsight, I'm not sure why splitting up seemed like a good idea, but we went ahead with it nonetheless. We agreed that regardless of where we ended up, we would start heading back at least three to four hours before sunset, as navigating through the forest would be nearly impossible once darkness fell. Mike and I stuck together, while Hovik and Nshan went their own way, and Hopar ventured down a separate path. Somehow, Mike and I ended up in an area with dense bushes where a machete would have been quite handy. Instead, Mike attempted to clear a path by hand, but he ended up falling and hitting his head on a rock. Fortunately, nothing serious happened, but I remember thinking there was a slight chance we might end up featured on the show "1000 Ways to Die."
Eventually, we found the river and began fishing until we realized we were thirsty and had run out of water. We decided it was time to head back. On our way back, we spotted Hovik and Nshan, but there was no sign of Hovik Hopar. For the next hour as we walked back, the four of us shouted his name in the hopes of finding him. With each passing minute and the sun starting to set, our worry grew that we might not find him. Then, out of nowhere, Hopar appeared nonchalantly, carrying a bag filled with Golden Trout. It felt like a scene straight out of a movie, almost too good to be true. I think he even took offense when we mentioned that we thought he was lost and that we had been searching for him for quite some time. He casually handed the bag of fish to Mike, resupplied us with water, and asked us to go ahead while he stopped to rest during the climb back.
Sometime during our walk back, the four of us in the front became disoriented and began to contemplate if we were lost. We had been walking for a considerable amount of time and had not yet reached the car. We glanced back to see if Hopar was on the trail behind us, as he usually was, but this time he was not there. We all kind of looked at each other, realizing that we might be lost this time and had only about 30 minutes of sunlight remaining to navigate our way out of the forest. Then, Hopar's silhouette emerged, illuminated by the fading sunlight, standing atop the hill where a few feet behind him the car was parked. He shouted for us to join him. At that moment, I could hardly believe my eyes, and I'm certain we were all in awe.
I remember thinking that here was a man over twice my age, who you would think was out of shape, doing things I didn't think were humanly possible. He had no fear, exuded confidence, and effortlessly overcame any obstacle. Watching him just be himself was truly inspiring. I believe I speak for most of my friends when I say that Hovik Hopar was a living legend to us, and we always shared his stories and experiences around the campfire.
In a more recent camping trip, some of us arrived early to secure a spot. We found a nice site where the camp hosts had just finished assembling a brand-new picnic table. A few hours later, Hopar arrived at the site. The first thing he did was grab a drill in one hand and a wooden light bar contraption he had made in the other, and he proceeded to drill it onto the side of the picnic table. We all thought it was a cool addition but given that this picknick table was brand new and now had a few holes in it, it was also hilarious. Later that night, Hopar raised a toast to Mike and our group of friends, expressing his happiness and pride in witnessing our friendship grow over the years and our continued love for camping and fishing. We then raised a toast to him, acknowledging his role in showing us the beauty of nature and instilling in us his passion for camping and fishing, which we will one day pass down to our children.
We all shared a powerful moment that night, sitting at that table in Aspen Campgrounds. It felt as though he was passing the torch to us. I am grateful to have experienced many incredible moments like this and to have expressed my gratitude to him for the positive influence he had on our brotherhood. I am saddened that we will no longer be adding on to his legendary stories, but I am confident that with every campfire we light, his legacy will continue to live on. He was truly a legend, a mentor, a hopar, an axper, and he will be greatly missed..
- Kupo
