Susitna Writer's Voice - "The Real Winner" by Ruth Moore

The sun glinted off the compacted snow, causing me to squint my eyes to narrow slits. It was mid-January, and the eager gathering of people was heading in a single, definite direction.

I could feel the cold steel through my heavy-duty jeans and long johns as the crowd pushed me against the frost-covered chain link fence. I leaned over the icy cold wire and strained to see the reason for the crowd’s excitement. The pressing spectators shouted and screamed as though gladiators had been turned loose on the strip of snow-packed trail no wider than four feet.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd. Excited barking of dogs could be heard in the distance.