Photos and story by Iustinian Popa
“What’s up you dip shits?” yelled a voice from behind the fence as I walked toward the back entrance of the demolition derby pits.
April 11, 2026. Spring Fair, Puyallup, WA. Around 2 p.m., hours before the grandstands filled up, a convoy of tow trucks and car carriers rolled into the pit area behind the arena.
A few minutes later, practice started. Revving engines and the smell of exhaust, burnt tires, boiling coolant, and oil filled the pits. Cars bled fluids onto the dirt while drivers and their crews fought steam and fumes, fixing “one more thing” before the night started.
Every year, Slamfest brings people from all over Washington and neighboring states together with Frankenstein cars built from whatever works. A Ford body, a Chevy engine and transmission, and beat-up frames beyond recognition—it doesn’t really matter. By the end of the night, they all slam into each other until just one is barely running and is declared the winner.
Inside the arena, it’s pure competition. Cars crush into each other so violently they can move the massive Bin Blocks surrounding the track. At one point, 10 feet away from where I was photographing, one slid so close it almost hit the judge’s stage. For a second, I thought they might stop the show.
They didn’t.
Back in the pits, it feels more like a family reunion. People who just met share whatever help they can offer: parts, tools, help welding frames, and of course, knowledge.
Even here, behind one of the most commercial fairgrounds in western Washington, that small-community feeling survives. After a while, you forget there is a fair happening outside the fence.
Tomorrow I’ll be back. The derby isn’t over yet, and this time they’ll be dragging boats behind the cars.
See more on Instagram: @iustinianpopa
