By Zephram Tino
When I arrived at the Clearwater speedway on June 10, I could already feel the pure thrill that was coming from the cheering spectators as they watched the cars racing around the dirt track at high speed.
Down in the pits I met with the president of Clearwater speedway, Dale Calder. Cradled in her arms, Calder held her 12-week-old grandchild, Olivia, who seemed as enthralled as I was with the raw spectacle of the speedway. Once introductions were finished, and I was given the obligatory safety talk by the pit boss, Dale said “Talk to anyone you like, they’ll talk to you. We’re just one big family.”
This big racing family as Calder and many other racers would describe it, is comprised of multiple families, and they say racing is in their blood. From the McEwans who hail from Lillooet to Clearwater’s own Madyson and Kayden Clark, it’s clear that family is a key factor in this sport. Calder’s son Jared and his wife Caitlyn are instrumental in the organization of such high-powered weekends. In the pits I had the opportunity to meet with many drivers as they prepared for the start of the races, and I wish I could tell all of their stories.
The excitement builds as the cars line up on the track and the green flag is waved, signalling the start of the big race between all drivers in the 4 cylinder class. Number 86 was a hot pink-coloured car and its driver, Faith Peters, had hair to match. After the race, Peters told me that when she was rounding the first corner she looked nervously at her gas gauge — which was almost sitting on empty — and wondered if she would have enough gas to make the 20 laps.
In the dust of the other cars she could make out a car with the number 95, belonging to her good friend Amanda Dandy. Peters and Dandy had travelled to Clearwater together from Logan Lake, on a “girls’ weekend,” and while Peters could feel the exhilaration of the event as she tried to control her car on the dirt track, she said she couldn’t help but think about a co-worker and friend who died of cancer who would be laid to rest after the weekend.
Peters was racing for him, and if she could win the weekend, she would donate all the prize money to her friend’s family. On her car was a colourfully-worded statement about cancer, making her sentiments known to the crowd.
A few cars behind, in number 53, driver Sarah Forrest from Kamloops showed off her own important set of colours on the race track. Her car was painted with the colours of the suicide awareness banner in honour of a childhood friend who sadly lost his battle a few months earlier. To give those also facing the same battle a sense of hope, the speedway agreed to let her sell suicide awareness bracelets, with all money going to Vancouver suicide prevention. In my conversations with Forrest she mentioned how racing was good therapy for her; after a couple of rough weeks, racing helped her relax.
Peters saw the white flag wave, signalling the final lap. Her full focus was now on the track ahead. One wrong movement of the steering wheel could cost her the race. A pink blur blew under a waving checkered flag, and to her surprise the announcer proclaimed “That’s right, Faith, you won!”
As she stopped her car and got out to receive her trophy she wondered who had come in second, and turned to see her friend Dandy pulling up behind her. They both took their trophies, squealing with excitement and hugging each other. This was the first race Peters had ever won, and it filled her with pride. “I know there’s already so much cancer awareness, but I’m racing for my friend this weekend.”
By the end of my day at the speedway I realized something: that we humans deal with our pain and grief in many different ways. Whether that be through raw emotion, art, or ripping around a dirt race track at over 100 kilometres an hour, it’s truly amazing how we choose a way to honour the ones we love.
