We rode into the rising sun up to Kimball, with only minor incidents on the ride up. These included Steve’s gas can falling off, and accidentally taking a wrong turn, forcing us to drag our snowmobiles and turn them around. We made it to the top with only a slight breeze. Nobody else had been up since the last snow, so we were the first to lay down some fresh tracks. We stashed all our food, skis, and snowboard that I had brought up. Then we got down to business. We started to carve up all the new snow in the little valleys.
Luckily, I wasn't the first to get stuck. Sam had that honor on his first little run. I was awarded with the best stuck of the day, which occurred not long after. I was hammering down towards this steep hill on the other side of a small valley when I hit a snow berm that I didn't see until it was too late. This threw me off balance and I ended up running into a wall of snow and getting stuck almost vertical. We kept riding all around, up and down. It was great. Then I started having snowmobile problems. Long story short: it lost all its power and my throttle cable started to freeze up. I was afraid it wouldn’t make it up the steep hill that we had come down. That’s when Mr. Fshizzle showed up. We recognized him from a mile off cruising toward us. We rode around for a bit more with F-dog, before my snowmobile died. The only cure was to let it sit. So I sat there in awe watching Mr. F high marking, and Steve trying, on the other side of the valley. Man is the F-dog good. That’s when Mr. Fshizzle came over and offered to let me ride his machine while he rested.