I don’t write as many articles as I used to. These days I’m lucky if I can find the content or the opportunity to write any type of article. Usually when I muster up the energy to tap away on a keyboard, it’s something that brings me great joy. Today is not one of those days, because the thing that I’m writing about brings me no joy. Instead, it feels like I’m writing an obituary of sorts.
It would seem that Penticton Speedway will be parting ways with drifting. That’s the track located on top of a mountain in – yes, you guessed it – Penticton, BC. Now, before you shrug it off as just another sign of the times or the wheels of progress moving ever forward (while steamrolling the things we hold dear), take some time and let this sink in. I get this is a huge ask given the year we’ve all collectively had and maybe we’ve all become all too familiar with disappointment. So, entertain me for a moment and remember it’s okay to feel disappointed about something that might seem minuscule, given the times we live in.
This isn’t just some other track closure or event cancellation. This is the end of an era. A real closing of a chapter. At least that’s how I feel. Hear me out: Penticton Speedway was the home to the single most important drift event in western Canada. For the last decade, Penticton has played host to the annual Drift Union Invitational, also known as DUI. Sources say that the track will be sticking around, but drifting, as we’ve known it, will not.
I don’t think any other drift event has had such an impact on my biased view of drifting. In fact, it was the first invitational drift event I attended.
In 2011, a much younger me with awful taste in beer was introduced to team drifting at the first D.U.I. event. Up until this point, I had only seen competition-style drifting. Little did I know that it would be the start of a 10-year love affair with non-competitive style drifting. Until then, the idea of my friends drifting on a track just for the sake of it had never occurred to me. Sure, D.U.I. was meant to be a team competition, but honestly, I’m not sure anyone was ever really worried about that winning. They were always more interested in fun and driving. No matter how many events I traveled to across North America, going to D.U.I. always felt like coming home.
Historically, D.U.I. was the home of Drift Union. If you’re not familiar, Drift Union was the quintessential western Canadian drift team. Shawn Browne, Logan Noël and Steve Thompson pretty much wrote the blueprint for every team that came after them in these parts. If you and your pals were serious about fun and drifting, you were probably aware of the 3 durple-coloured cars. (It was clever to change the “P” to a “D” in the word purple.)
From that point on, there were a myriad of teams that followed the same formula. It started with my dear friends at Hotboyz, who were originally dubbed the little brother team to Drift Union. They were then followed by the likes of Drift Farm, Street Junkees, Blacksmith Drifting and Husky Situation to name just a few.
Maybe matching paint was a coincidence, but it seemed like a rite of passage for those who pursued drifting on a larger scale in western Canada. And making it on the list at D.U.I. was a privilege. It’s safe to say that if you learned to hang on the track at a D.U.I. event, you could hang at any other drift event after cutting your teeth in Penticton.
Whenever I visited events outside of Canada with drivers that previously drove a D.U.I. event, I knew they’d be well-equipped to properly represent the western drift community. Notably, it was also one of the only events able to draw in our neighbours from the south, to try drifting in the land of free health care.
Driving and style aside, what I’ll miss the most about D.U.I. is the people. The gathering was always an opportunity to meet new people in the drift community and reunite with old friends. In fact, I made some of my closest car friends at these events. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was worried about the large, gaping hole the absence of this event will leave behind, but I’ll be forever grateful for the lessons I learned and the memories it gave me.
