Underground DuHamels: Aged in Oak, Served with Fists
by Dean F. Adams
Tuesday, June 24, 2025
The late Yvon DuHamel was a man of many talents—on and off the racetrack.
His youngest son, Miguel, remembers one of Yvon’s lesser-known passions: winemaking.
“He and my mom made wine every year for many years,” Miguel recalls. “They grew the grapes, picked the fruit, and then we pressed and bottled everything ourselves. He’d bring bottles to friends at the track, and also share it with his non-racing buddies back home in Canada. The barrels were 45 gallons!”
Though production stopped in the 1980s, the family stash was so vast it nearly lasted into the 2020s.
“We finally drank the last bottle about six years ago. I figured it’d taste like vinegar—but it was actually still really good. That wine had no preservatives and was very strong. The great part? Even if you over-served yourself, there was never a hangover.”
The winemaking took place in the now-legendary basement of the DuHamel home in Montreal—a space that evolved depending on the season or obsession. At various times, Yvon’s basement was a father-vs.-sons mini-bike racetrack, a sausage-making kitchen, a full-on winery, or—perhaps most unexpectedly—a teenage fight club.
Yes, fight club.
While most kids were mowing lawns or painting fences for pocket money, teenage Miguel was bare-knuckle boxing in the family basement. His brother Mario acted as promoter and manager, and sister Gina tried to be the voice of reason. Mario charged admission, handled the prize money, and 11 year old Miguel would throw hands with anyone willing to step in the ring. If the DuHamels’ parents went out for the evening, the phones would start ringing:
“Miguel’s fighting a high school hockey player for $50 in an hour. Let’s go!”
The underground DuHamel Fight Club ran for a surprisingly long time before Yvon and his wife caught wind of it. And when Yvon shut it down, he did so in classic Yvon fashion—with calm logic and a racer’s realism.
“He thought it was a clever way to make money,” Miguel said, “but he told me, ‘Miguel you’re fighting grown men now. One of these guys is gonna get tired of losing to a kid and come back with a knife or a gun. Then what?’”
DuHamel's basement may have smelled like sausage one month and adrenaline the next, but it always carried the spirit of the DuHamels: resourceful, rowdy, and fiercely close-knit. Whether it was fermenting grapes or hosting unsanctioned prizefights, Yvon's basement will go down in family lore as the place where things got done—sometimes with wine, sometimes with stitches.
His youngest son, Miguel, remembers one of Yvon’s lesser-known passions: winemaking.
STORAGE GARAGE MAN--THE SUPERHERO RACING NEEDS
A bottle of red wine from the winery of Yvon and Sophie DuHamel. They also made a white wine, beer and their own sausage.
"A deguster entre amis" means best enjoyed with friends.
"Vin pour toutes occasions" means Wine for all occasions
"A deguster entre amis" means best enjoyed with friends.
"Vin pour toutes occasions" means Wine for all occasions
Though production stopped in the 1980s, the family stash was so vast it nearly lasted into the 2020s.
“We finally drank the last bottle about six years ago. I figured it’d taste like vinegar—but it was actually still really good. That wine had no preservatives and was very strong. The great part? Even if you over-served yourself, there was never a hangover.”
The winemaking took place in the now-legendary basement of the DuHamel home in Montreal—a space that evolved depending on the season or obsession. At various times, Yvon’s basement was a father-vs.-sons mini-bike racetrack, a sausage-making kitchen, a full-on winery, or—perhaps most unexpectedly—a teenage fight club.
Yes, fight club.
While most kids were mowing lawns or painting fences for pocket money, teenage Miguel was bare-knuckle boxing in the family basement. His brother Mario acted as promoter and manager, and sister Gina tried to be the voice of reason. Mario charged admission, handled the prize money, and 11 year old Miguel would throw hands with anyone willing to step in the ring. If the DuHamels’ parents went out for the evening, the phones would start ringing:
“Miguel’s fighting a high school hockey player for $50 in an hour. Let’s go!”
The underground DuHamel Fight Club ran for a surprisingly long time before Yvon and his wife caught wind of it. And when Yvon shut it down, he did so in classic Yvon fashion—with calm logic and a racer’s realism.
“He thought it was a clever way to make money,” Miguel said, “but he told me, ‘Miguel you’re fighting grown men now. One of these guys is gonna get tired of losing to a kid and come back with a knife or a gun. Then what?’”
DuHamel's basement may have smelled like sausage one month and adrenaline the next, but it always carried the spirit of the DuHamels: resourceful, rowdy, and fiercely close-knit. Whether it was fermenting grapes or hosting unsanctioned prizefights, Yvon's basement will go down in family lore as the place where things got done—sometimes with wine, sometimes with stitches.
— ends —
