Driven

The start

Martins POV

I pulled up to the line slowly. I need to get used to the steering and throttle response. On my way up, Mike (my best friend/pit chief) told me to watch the oil consumption, something with the reeds. Mike retreated to the pit trailer with a nod.

I watched the last few sleds pull up to the line. Just for fun, I gave the throttle a quick blip. "has good pickup" I said to myself.

The light showed red-here we go. Yellow-almost. Second yellow, third yellow...Green! I squeezed the throttle and the track lit up. 'Could use improvement' I instantly thought. He also noticed it had better throttle response than his old 440 Ski-Doo. Martin began to pull away as the Liberty twin 600 redlined. Then he began to back off, remembering this wasn't a short race like he was used to.

The course would cover half of Alaska. From Fairbanks to Deadhorse. Not the short course races he was used to.

...

He was a few hours in when his hand started to get tired. I'm going to have to put a twist-throttle on here if I want to keep Doing this. I pulled into the small patch of woods with a winding trail through it. On the other side of this was the avalanche zone. A valley between two small mountains. The snow is notorious for being powdery and unstable.

My father died here. Its what inspired me to do it. To ride. To feel the rush. He died back in '03 riding a brand new Yamaha R1 1000. A heavy sled, but one that was (is) known to go well over 10,000 miles. (A/N, I rode the newer version-apex-it is absolutely insane! TOPS AT 130!!!)

There are two basic ways of going through, Balls-to-the-wall, or slow and methodical. I pick balls-to-the-wall. I don't want to get bummed from being here. But as I go through, he felt good, alive, carefree...so I slow down a little. Then I felt the rumble.