Dig a bit deeper, and it's obvious Camp Goodtimes is about much more.

It's about belonging. It's about spending a week without parents hovering over you. It's about doing things you never thought you could do. It's about not being singled out as 'that kid with cancer.' It's about being able to talk about your disease to people who really understand, because they've had cancer too.

The C-word isn't banned here, nor is it relentlessly promoted. It's simply part of the camp culture.

"I don't actually know that much about cancer, which reflects the goals of the camp," MacKenzie says at one point, as he guides visitors along the winding dirt paths of the camp.

With his t-shirt, shorts and hip long hairstyle, MacKenzie could easily be mistaken for one of the older campers. The same can be said of many of the other staff. It's part of the casual, easy culture of Camp Goodtimes, where the aim is to give campers a vacation from the normal restrictions in their lives.

Giving a tour of one of the eight-bed cabins - where many campers have left sleeping bags and clothes in a heap - MacKenzie says the staff check daily for wet clothing, food and general sanitation.

Otherwise, they don't nag the campers.

"We're not too strict about making their beds," said MacKenzie, a Burnaby resident who started out at Camp Goodtimes 11 years ago as a counsellor. "A lot of camps are life skills-based. We're comfort-based."