Daybreakers race 900-pound pumpkins — and porta-potties — in annual regatta

Boaters squeezed themselves into giant pumpkins, to the amusement of hundreds, while competing for bragging rights at the 13th-annual regatta on Daybreak’s Oquirrh Lake in South Jordan on Saturday.
A pumpkin is everything a boat is not, according to one racer dressed like Batman — “soggy, mushy, heavy.” The giant bobbing squash, with a hole just inches from the surface of the water, is always in danger of taking on water.
Gulls and geese circled above the heads of families gathered at the terminal portion of the 67-acre lake. Bright blue skies and a warm breeze, the last gasps of summer, treated the crowd.
Some sat on the porches of their lakeside homes, bearing more resemblance to somewhere in Minnesota than the deserts of Utah, aside from the Bingham copper mine in the distance.
On the opposite bank, residents leaned over the balconies of the apartment buildings while others watched from grassy terraces, as the lake became a watery pumpkin-people soup.
It takes a special community to get in “oversized Froot Loops and paddle around in 900-pound pumpkins,” says Dan Rodgerson, a competitor and organizer with LiveDaybreak. The man has competed in the races 10 years in a row and never won, he said.
Dressed as a giraffe, Rodgerson was neck and neck with Batman, but the superhero’s gourd-mobile pulled ahead to win the heat. As the hulking fruits neared the shore, volunteers in waders ferried the racers to a dock for an awkward extrication process.
Pumpkin paddling is not really a sport, Rodgerson said, “it’s really a lifestyle.” The golden ratio is around one part person to three parts pumpkin, discovered by trial and error over years of racing. Saturday, there were 25 racers competing in six giant pumpkins.
Clint Nash, with the Utah Giant Pumpkin Growers, has been racing for all 13 years the regatta has existed. He’s grown giant pumpkins for longer, around two decades.
Speaking in yellow face-and-beard paint, Nash was dressed like a Minion, his second costume of the day. “It starts with genetics,” he said of the pumpkin growing. “We keep track of the genetics, and then we move them outside once it’s warm enough.”
In Utah, where it is hotter than the pumpkins like, Nash says he has to mist them every twenty minutes in the summer to keep them cool.
“It’s a lot of work through the year just kind of babysitting them, adding different amendments to the soil and the plant,” he said. At around 90% water, the plants are always thirsty during growing season. The biggest pumpkin Nash has ever grown weighed in at 1,478 pounds. They are all so massive, they have to be hoisted onto flatbeds for transport.
The pumpkin he was growing this year, estimated at around 950 pounds, tragically rotted from the bottom three weeks ago.
Fifteen kids, all under 14 years old, built cardboard boats to race. Prizes were given for the farthest-traveled, with a special “Titanic” award for fastest to sink. Some kids glided, others spun in place, capsized, or lazily rowed their paper Viking ship to glory.
In typical Utah fashion, there were as many dogs as people: dogs in baby strollers, muscle men carrying wiener dogs, huskies whining and heelers circling the petting zoo, frothing at the mouth to get at the sheep, goats, chickens, rabbits and a hog.
Other families enjoyed steer roping, inflatable hamster wheels and food trucks, while organizers in a kayak fired shirts from a canon into the crowds.
For the first time, porta-potties were also tossed into the lake to race. “As far as we could tell in a 17-second Google search, this has never ever been done in the history of the world, you guys,” the announcer yelled.
Nash changed costumes, wearing an inflatable poop emoji suit, before dancing his way into a horizontal plastic outhouse. They sailed surprisingly well, despite some precarious rocking from top-heaviness. The giant pumpkin grower and his rowing partner Lindsay Bench, dressed as a roll of toilet paper, finished a respectable third out of four potties, followed by the Mario Brothers.
At the end of the event, the pumpkins were smashed to pulp by a large forklift, but the bragging rights of the victors will remain intact until next year.