Building the Game: How Washington’s Disc Golf Community Grows
Washington's disc golf scene doesn't just
appear overnight—it emerges through people, events, and little moments that
stick with you. Dip's Discs plays a noticeable part in that. Their home in Oak
Harbour feels familiar, even if you've only visited once or twice. You sense
that quietly growing energy. They help host tournaments that feel more like
gatherings than competitions.
Take the North Whidbey Open, held at
Deception Pass Golf Center in Oak Harbor. That inaugural tournament drew 72
players. A robust turnout, yes—and that fact alone hints at some momentum. But
what matters—well, things like local players spotting old friends on the first
hole, or someone forgetting a putter and borrowing one mid-round. The event
felt lived-in, not polished.
Then there's the Skagit River Open at
Whitmarsh DGC in Burlington. The weather tried its best to shut things
down—rain, hail, snow, wind. Yet people showed, played. Many stuck it out. That
suggests the sport's roots are more deeply ingrained in community than in conditions.
Dip's Discs added $300 to the pro purse. It's not a fortune, but it nudged the
event from tournament to experience.
Sound familiar? It does. A friend once
described disc golf in Washington that way: "It's less about the score,
more about how the day felt." That ambiguity sits well here—you chase
lines, but you also chase the kind of round that becomes a story later.
Then the Mount Baker Challenge popped up at
Bellis Fairways in Bellingham. Rain teased at times, yet camaraderie stayed
strong—people celebrated long drives and laughed at mud splashes. Dip's Discs
partnered with Discmania. They did the work behind the scenes: organising,
keeping score, and handing out discs without being salesy about it.
Pulling all that together, you can see how
grassroots holds up the greater scene. Events aren't just tournaments. They're
a chance for new players to find that first local connection. For seasoned
players to mentor or talk strategy. For families to wander the course, period.
Dip's Discs teams reinforce that. Their
"Pro Team" includes names like Lucas Latta from Oak Harbour, and even
a 2010 PDGA world champ, Eric McCabe. On the amateur side, founder Eric
Dipzinski and a collection of committed players help out. That's a roster of
people who live the game—not just sell it.
If the energy leans casual, that's good.
Washington is not trying to out‑pro the pros. Clubs in Bellingham, Oak Harbor,
and Skagit—they're about introducing folks to the sport, one throw at a time. I
recall someone saying they came to a tournament to watch, stayed for two
rounds, and now they show up every weekend. That sort of quiet invitation is
what grows the game.
There's also the #ThrowKindness initiative.
For every disc sold, Dip's Discs donates one to community groups. That boosts accessibility
without making a big deal about it. It feels natural. It's a gesture that
reflects a larger intention—disc golf belongs to everyone, not just the serious
or the sponsored.
You may wonder: where does Whatcom Disc
Golf Club fit in? It's a name that comes up, though not always tied directly to
Dip's Discs events. Still, their local tournaments and meetups blend
well—sometimes you see their banner at the same events. It's that kind of
overlap that makes growth feel steady, not forced.
Growth here doesn't flash overnight.
Instead, it layers: first, a retailer opens shop and hosts a small event. Then
a few players return. Sheets of registration pop up, and others help run the
score. Dialogues form online, on Facebook groups, and in casual course side
chats. Soon, someone remembers that awkward first round, and next spring, they
bring a new player.
Practically, for someone wanting to join,
the advice feels clear. Check Dip's Discs' blog or events page. Pick one local
tournament—even a beginner one. You'll meet people. You'll learn the course in
a way a solo round never delivers. Maybe you end up on a team. Or run an event
next year. That's how the community keeps going.
Slightly odd moment of clarity: growth
rests on hosting—not perfection. A muddy tournament remains memorable. A
borrowed disc can become a tradition. Community happens when the lines blur
between competition and coming together.
Want to get in on that rhythm? Explore the events Dip's Discs lists online. Pick one, register.
Walk the course. Throw your first shots. Bring questions—someone will answer
them, maybe mid-putt. That step builds more than a score. It builds Washington disc golf.
Comments
Post a Comment