Snow rallies are a challenge to be cherished

Careful what you wish for. A year ago, we landed into an unseasonably warm Michigan to face a snow-less Sno*Drift. Now, picking our way along the 33, bound for Atlanta, we’re starting to wonder if you can have too much of a good thing.

The headlights pick out the Marathon Gas station in the town’s suburbs. Good. The world is still out there. The car’s quiet, which only serves to emphasize the occasional flare of revs, as the traction control is befuddled by the sheer quantity of snow it’s being asked to deal with. As the blizzard thickens, the road whitens – it feels like we’ve been teleported into an episode of Ice Road Truckers.

Last week, there was no doubt, the snow was very much back for the opening round of the ARA National Championship presented by Kubota. And – apart from the odd tricky journey here and there – it made for a magical start to the Stateside season.

It also made for a slightly different atmosphere around parc exposé compared with 2024. Last season, the crews were pondering the right tire for a gravel-mud mix with the odd patch of snow and ice thrown in. Granted, there were no snowbanks in place, but the Michigan dirt could be relied on for resistance.

Last Friday, as afternoon faded to evening and the sun dipped behind the Albert Township Hall, Lewiston, the crews headed into their pre-event briefing with a slight sense of foreboding. Or at least some of them did. Matthew Nykanen was different. He’d just installed a three-liter engine into his BMW E36 and a semi-sensible 50-mile run-in had only served to widen the ever-present grin which sits beneath the moustache.

While most stepped uneasily from foot-to-foot, Nykanen waited impatiently, ready to fire his new motor between the trees. Countdown complete, the straight-six started singing.

Defending champion Brandon Semenuk was another driver done with the idea of feeling his way into a new season. Talking to the Canadian’s co-driver Keaton Williams at the end of the opener, I asked how it had been. Had there been a tentative approach to sense the grip beneath the WRX?

“I thought there might be,” he said, “but when we went off the line, we were going at it quite hard and I thought: ‘Hello, here we go…’ He was pushing and it felt really good straight away. The confidence was there and we were into it.”

And this from the man who’d told DirtFish he was kind of hoping for a deep thaw and a return to last year’s gravel rally.

“I really enjoyed these roads without the snow,” he said.

And now? Semenuk didn’t need to answer. His grin spoke volumes. It was intense, but it was a lot of fun.

The perennial question at this event is, however, how much fun the Sno*Drift might be with studs. It’s something of a moot point given Michigan state policy towards studded tires, but that doesn’t abate the debate.

Semenuk’s response: “Personally, I’d like to use them – and I say that with a grain of salt. This rally is a great rally in the sense of its unique challenge and experience. The fact that we can drive these stages this fast with just a normal street tire is, basically, insane.

“But this rally with studded tires would be psycho! Maybe I’m biased, but I would really enjoy it. I’d really enjoy the experience of using like a proper World Rally Championship stud. For the other competitors, it takes away some of that risk. You know, you might not have a big off here, but it’s so easy to get stuck in a snowbank, the tire fills with snow and you can’t get out. Your rally is over. Whereas if you have a studded tire, you’ve got a little bit more to rely on, a little more consistency.”

As ever, the champ’s views are considered and thought through.

Bound for the second stage, he nosed the Subaru into the night and left us with plenty to ponder. Our itinerary took us to the jumps at end of the fourth stage. Splitting our crew, I was dispatched towards the woods, DirtFish head of brand Brenten Kelly – a man local to these parts and knowledgeable in pretty much everything – offered instructions.

“Follow that powerline up into the forest,” he told me. “It’ll keep you a good way off the road and it’ll take you to the side of the jumps.”

Up being the operative word. Keeping the cables directly overhead, I traipsed through knee-deep powder. Just as I was beginning to understand what Tenzing Norgay and Sir Edmond Hilary might have felt as they put the Khumbu Icefall behind them and looked up towards Everest’s summit, I reached the top of the hill.

I’d passed a couple of groups who’d established base camps, lit fires and were busily cooking sausages and quenching a collected thirst. Cresting my hill, I left the laughter and banter behind to find a spot safely back from the stage, where I could do as I was told and place cameras in the right position.

Job done, I stood and waited. Twenty minutes to the first car. Nice. Plenty of time. Bit sweaty, but in position. I’ll just share that on the radio. Having searched each and every one of the eight pockets in the new-for-2025 team kit DirtFish Outdoor Research parka, I began to accept the walkie-talkie was still sitting in the car’s door pocket. No bother, I’ll give the boys a call on the phone.

SOS only. Splendid.

Very quiet out here. Very quiet.

The clouds had parted, allowing the moon to light the forest beautifully. But seeing nothing but the black and white of trees and snow, my mind began to wander. First port of call?

The film, Frozen. No. Not the animation about wanting to build a snowman. The version where three snowboarders are trapped on a ski lift and eventually get eaten by wolves. It’s fair to say, I was quite pleased when zero cars started arriving and making some noise.

Getting back to the car, I imparted what I thought were entirely sensible concerns to BK. He laughed.

“Wolves?” he offered. “Seriously, you thought there were wolves out there? You wouldn’t get wolves out there.”

Great. Happy days.

“But you might see some coyotes…”

Awesome news.

One place we were guaranteed to see neither was the final hairpin left on SS16: Bonfire Alley.

I was blown away by this place last season. That, I was told, was nothing. I had to come back in the snow to see it done properly. Last Saturday night was something else. Flame throwers, lazers and industrial-strength fireworks lit up a night sky over a party fuelled by gasoline and Twisted Tea. There were twice as many people, thousands joined in cross-road snowball fights and chanting which, even when I was in the thick of it, made no sense me.

It was an experience.

And that’s what snow rallying is all about. Whether it’s the Arctic in Lapland, this week’s Rally Sweden or Michigan’s snow-packed Sno*Drift, our sport is different when the weather turns white. And, studs or no studs, it’s a challenge to be cherished.