CORVALLIS — The pickup trucks and Suburbans cruised up to the gigantic plot of land one by one that September afternoon, bringing sleeping bags, barbecue grills, fishing poles and virtually every person connected to the Oregon State baseball team.

It had been three months since Mitch Canham was named the 21st coach in school history, ushering in a new era of Beavers baseball, and he and his new staff had come up with an idea to build a little team camaraderie: an overnight camping trip. So players, coaches and managers headed north of campus on a Saturday and nestled onto a spot just off the Willamette River. There were plans to fish and toss the football around, to hop in canoes and onto paddleboards, to chill around a campfire and enjoy a cookout, to share stories and bond.

Canham had arrived in Corvallis following a successful 3 1/2-year tenure as a minor league coach in the Seattle Mariners organization, but he already bled orange and black. When Oregon State won back-to-back national championships in 2006 and 2007, it was Canham, an All-America catcher, captaining the success behind the plate. But it had been 13 years since that magical run and the Beavers were fresh off a transitional season that began with the sudden retirement of legendary coach Pat Casey and ended with a stunning sweep in the Corvallis Regional.

This was the dawn of a new age and Canham wanted to bring his team — what he likes to call his family — together.

So they settled into nature on a 68-degree day and started to set up camp. Canham pulled out his gear, grabbed his tent and searched for a place to pitch it. Longtime Oregon State assistant coach Pat Bailey and first-year pitching coach Rich Dorman did the same. Then they looked around and realized they had a problem.

“It turns out that not a lot of college students bring tents to college,” Canham said, chuckling. “So hardly anyone had a tent. We were like, ‘Oh, boy, where’s everybody going to sleep tonight?’”

The new coach had made a rookie mistake.

“The camping trip was really the first steppingstone in bringing us together as a family, helping us get to know each other on a deeper level,” junior pitcher Nathan Burns said. Sean Meagher/Staff

STORIES, TEARS, COMING TOGETHER

After pondering their predicament, the Beavers decided they would just wing it. Some players elected to sleep in the back of their pickups. Others tossed air mattresses on the ground and decided to snooze in sleeping bags under the stars. Many crammed into cars — sometimes four to a vehicle — and crashed on car seats. Those who did bring tents opened them up to teammates.

Before long, the rookie mistake had been resolved and guys were tossing footballs and frisbees, sitting in fishing boats, playing spikeball and noshing on food. At one point, coaches set up a projection screen and everyone huddled around to watch the Oregon State-Hawaii football game. But by the end of the night, the trip had evolved from a fun and casual outing to a deeply personal and emotional awakening.

“The camping trip was really the first steppingstone in bringing us together as a family, helping us get to know each other on a deeper level,” junior pitcher Nathan Burns said.

Canham, it turns out, had ambitions of pushing his players to open up in ways they were not expecting. As an icebreaker, he asked everyone to share a movie that made them cry. More than half the team offered, “Marley and Me,” but shortstop Andy Armstrong mentioned, “Act of Valor,” Burns said, “United 53,” and the coaching staff’s selections were all over the place, ranging from “The Boondock Saints” (Canham) to “Rudy” (Dorman) to “Brian’s Song” (Bailey).

The mood shifted to a more serious tone when Bailey placed a chair in front of the group and told them they were about to be put on the “Budweiser Hot Seat,” an ode to an old ESPN segment. Everyone would be asked to share a personal experience from their lives that started as a negative and later emerged as a positive. Canham looked at Bailey, said, “OK, you go first,” and Bailey plopped down in the chair and poured out his heart.

When he was 26 years old, Bailey said, he was stricken with spinal meningitis and nearly died. At the time, 17 people had contracted the illness in Eugene, where he worked, and only five survived. Of the five, he was the only one who didn’t lose fingers or toes or deal with lingering issues afterward.

“I shared that story with them and talked about the importance of living each day one day at a time and making the most out of the day,” Bailey said. “Honestly, it could have been a tragedy in my family’s life, but it ended up being a major positive.”

Bailey had captured the team’s attention. Before long, players walked up one by one and sat in the hot seat, sharing personal stories about love and loss, tragedy and heartbreak, failure and grief. They were unwilling to divulge details, but it was emotional and eye-opening.

“I was in the background wiping my tears away the whole time,” junior outfielder Kyler McMahan said. “Right then, you just knew you were wanted here, you were accepted here and that everyone was going to do everything to make you succeed and make us all succeed. Everyone has different experiences, everyone has grown up in different lives. Knowing that you can share that, you can be comfortable, brings that family culture much closer. That was the best part of the camping trip, for sure. Just being able to sit down and really see whatever everyone is about. That really built trust.”

Of course, perhaps no story was as emotional or revealing as the one shared by Canham, who has endured unspeakable loss over the years. As a freshman at Oregon State, his mother died at age 40 from a drug overdose. Five years after that, when Canham played minor league baseball in California, his 21-year-old younger brother died while serving in the African nation of Djibouti under unusual and controversial circumstances the military labeled natural causes.

Canham spoke about the tragedy and toll it took on him, but also talked about how he emerged a better and stronger man.

“You have to have the ability to sit back and look at the positive, focus on all the stuff that my mom did teach me, that my brother and I did share,” Canham said. “I don’t look at it as hardships. I look at it as opportunity and blessings. Losing my mother was tough. Losing my brother was tough. There were certain moments where you felt like there was no coming out of this spiral. You asked: ‘Why?’ But it also brought me closer to my wife, kept me close to my faith.”

Shortly after he was named coach, Canham held an impromptu meeting in the Beavers’ clubhouse and gave such an impassioned and moving speech to his team that freshman pitcher Cooper Hjerpe — who had originally committed to play for Casey and was uneasy about the coaching changes — “was ready to run through a brick wall for him.”

Since, there have been plenty of team-bonding events. There was a rowing competition, facilitated by the OSU rowing team. There was a group outing to a wrestling meet. After a fall scrimmage, the coaching staff hauled out a dunk tank and the losing team took turns sitting on the plank as their victorious teammates tried to sink them into frigid water. There have been team yoga classes in center field and daily meditation sessions at Goss Stadium.

But none have been more meaningful than the September trip to the woods.

“That set the tone for the whole season,” catcher Troy Claunch said. “There was a lot of talk about family and loss and you learn what your brothers have been through. Getting to hear that from those guys and being able to empathize with them and kind of feel what they’re going through, it was really big for us. It was nice to be able to share. And it was nice being able to listen. That really brought us closer together as a family.”

“Everyone knows that our defense can be suffocating to other teams,” catcher Troy Claunch said. Photo by Leon Neuschwander for The Oregonian/OregonLive

SLOW START, BUT CONFIDENCE AND CHEMISTRY REMAIN

Canham will make his Goss Stadium coaching debut Friday night, when the Beavers, fresh off an 11-game, three-state trip, host UC Santa Barbara in their first home series of the season.

It has not been a perfect start for the Beavers. They squandered a two-run, eighth-inning lead in the opener of a three-game series at national power Mississippi State. They lost to an inferior BYU team hovering just above .500. They split four games against San Diego State. Along the way, the pitching staff has surrendered too many walks, the lineup has logged too many strikeouts, and the Beavers have sputtered to a disappointing 5-6 record.

But listen to coaches and players in the hours leading up to Friday’s game and you’d think they were 9-2.

“I think we’re solid,” said McMahan, who ranks fourth in the Pac-12 with a .457 batting average.

“Everyone knows that our defense can be suffocating to other teams,” Claunch said.

“I think we’re on the verge of being really good,” Bailey said.

The confidence is a reflection of Canham, 35, whose determined, steady and always-positive personality has very quickly permeated the program.

While Casey, Canham’s legendary predecessor, was known for his fiery demeanor and demanding coaching style, Canham brings a different approach. He never yells at his players — “I haven’t seen him get angry one time yet at anyone,” Bailey said — and he is eternally positive. When asked what he’s learned about his new coach through 11 games, McMahan smiled.

The outfielder made two key blunders in the San Diego State series. Once, he cost the Beavers a run when he was thrown out at the plate trying to tag from third on a flyball. Another time, he allowed a baserunner to advance to third because he misplayed a ball on defense. But Canham didn’t grill McMahan in the heat of the moment or call out the miscues during the game. Instead, he quietly discussed the moments with McMahan a day or two later.

“I noticed he’s an observer,” McMahan said. “He doesn’t go out and tell you (immediately) when you’re wrong. He kind of lets it sit and lets you reflect on what you do. Typically, when you make a mistake, whether it’s on the base paths, on the mound — whatever — you know that you did something wrong. So he doesn’t need to be in your ear as soon as you come in the dugout. He’ll give it a day or a couple days and then talk to you. Nothing demoralizing, just talk it over and see what your thought process was.”

Another change: use of the c-word — can’t — is strictly forbidden. If someone slips up and utters it, they are required to grab a makeshift pair of bicycle handlebars, head to the outfield wall and jog from pole-to-pole along the warning track. As they gallop along with the fake bicycle, they’re supposed to think positive and encouraging affirmations. Nobody is immune — coaches included — from c-word repercussions.

“We know what we’re here to do,” Canham said. “We’re going to add to the trophy room, we’re pursing excellence. And that started with getting people in this university to say WE CAN achieve these things. We can. It’s can. It’s we will. We had to stop talking about what you can’t do and start focusing on what you can do. I remember taking a brisk jog because I had some things I had to get done. I said the four-letter c-word. The guys were immediately, ‘Oooohhhhhh, he said it!’ So I was like, ‘I’ll be right back.’ And I went and grabbed the handlebars. The whole time, I’m saying to myself, ‘I can have great body language, I am a positive human being, I choose to bring good energy.’”

Ace left-hander Christian Chamberlain, who has opened the season with two wins and a 17-inning scoreless streak, was charged with decorating the handlebars one day out of the blue and he made the most of the opportunity.

“He told me to grab his bike handles out of the back of his truck, take it home and decorate it,” Chamberlain said. “So I spray-painted it a nice sparkly pink and added some streamers off the sides. Gave it a nice bell. I’m happy with it.”

As for between the lines, Bailey says, Canham’s practices and practice plans mirror those Casey used. But he also has added a new-school dimension for player evaluation, including the enhanced use of analytics cribbed from his time with the Mariners.

There’s no escaping the towering shadow cast by Casey, who won 900 games and built the Beavers into a three-time national champion during his 24-year tenure. When Canham sits at his desk in the Jacoby Ellsbury Clubhouse, Casey literally looms over his shoulder, memorialized on a mural hanging on the wall. And when he stands in the third base coaching box, Canham can look toward the right field stands and spot a section dubbed “CASEY CORNER.”

But as he works to create his own legacy, he’s not worried about his mentor. The two talk and even share meals regularly, and Canham has made it clear that Casey — who once called Canham “the best leader in the country,” — is welcome in the clubhouse anytime.

“But I don’t feel any pressure from him,” Canham said. “Or when people say, ‘Well, good luck, you’re following Case.’ I’m like, ‘I’m here to be me.’ And, heck, forget me, I’m here for these guys and to help bring out the best version of them.”

It’s been months since that rookie mistake in the woods and Canham continues to put his stamp on Beaver baseball.

“There has not been a coach that I have been under that has brought such a great atmosphere, such a great coaching style, such an amazing element of family and accountability,” McMahan said. “He makes sure everyone’s doing the right thing on and off the field, getting the work in, getting schoolwork done. It’s been smooth sailing for all of us and we’re looking forward to keeping the Oregon State baseball tradition alive.”

— Joe Freeman | jfreeman@oregonian.com | 503-294-5183 | @BlazerFreeman | Subscribe to Oregonian/OregonLive newsletters and podcasts for the latest news and top stories