Jamster the drum and bass stoner..

The mountain higher than high rave

The crisp mountain air crackled with anticipation, a far cry from the usual basement funk of Jamster's Stoned Bass Sessions. Tonight, the venue was a secluded clearing nestled amidst the craggy peaks of Snowdonia National Park, and the guest list boasted a crew unlike any Jamster had assembled before. Gone were the urban bassheads; tonight, the dancefloor would be populated by yeti ravers and mountain goat moshers.

The idea, as always, originated in a haze of Jamster's finest concoction, aptly named "Avalanche." Fueled by a shared vision of epic proportions, Jamster and Bob embarked on a mission to create the ultimate mountain drum and bass experience. The logistics were daunting. How do you transport a sound system that could rattle tectonic plates up a treacherous mountain path? Luckily, Bob, a resourceful soul with a surprising affinity for yaks, managed to procure a team of the sure-footed beasts to haul the equipment.

The night arrived, cloaked in a blanket of stars more dazzling than any strobe light. A bonfire, fueled by a mystical blend of wood and Bob's secret stash of glow-in-the-dark kindling, crackled merrily, casting flickering shadows on the assembled crowd. Yetis, their thick fur adorned with flashing LED necklaces, shuffled their feet impatiently. A gaggle of mountain goats, their horns adorned with miniature speakers, basked in the bass radiating from the colossal sound system.

Jamster, sporting a custom-made parka lined with glow sticks, took the helm. His first set, a carefully curated blend of tracks infused with the sounds of crackling glaciers and echoing avalanches, sent shivers (both literal and metaphorical) down the spines of the assembled creatures. Bob, ever the hype man, bobbed and weaved between the crowd, his face illuminated by a headlamp repurposed into a makeshift strobe light.

As the night progressed, the music morphed and mutated. A local group of musically inclined badgers, lured by the thumping bass, emerged from the woods and joined in with a frenetic flurry of paw-based percussion on an abandoned set of bongos. A particularly potent strain of "Everest OG" sent a colony of marmots into a blissful trance, their little bodies swaying hypnotically to the beat. By the time the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon, the mountain was a cacophony of happy grunts, bleats, and the thumping bass that seemed to vibrate the very bedrock.

News of the "Mountain Meltdown" spread like wildfire through the mythical creature grapevine. Soon, Jamster and Bob were receiving requests to DJ everything from gnome raves in hidden glens to underwater bass parties hosted by a particularly groovy school of trout. Their mountaintop extravaganza had become legend, a testament to the unifying power of drum and bass and the sheer ingenuity of two stoned best mates who dared to dream big (or perhaps a little too high).