Finally, we left Jared's house heading toward the Iditarod historic trail. Cole took the long way and Jared and I took the short way to see who would get there faster. Cole ended up beating us because he had many straight stretches on which to gain speed. After a “race to the finish,” we hit deep powder. A few miles later we noticed another rider in the distance. We raced to catch him, or her, and found out that it was an old family friend, Mopar, who was shreading the powder like a block of cheese. He was riding his play machine: a 2009 600cc Ski-doo summit E-TEC with lots of power. He asked, “Where you guys heading?” Jared replied, “Flat-horn Lake.” During the ride, we ran across a few moose and a dog team. It was mid-day and we arrived at Flat-Horn; we all ventured off carving snow, riding fast, and getting stuck. That day was filled like the gas tank of a snowmachine, but replaced with memories. After a few long frozen hours of riding back home, we made it just in time for cold dinner.