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| February 1972 –
Northern Ontario The February cold cut through Denis as he stood by his Skidoo Blizzard 340. His breath puffed in clouds, but his eyes were fixed on the frozen trail. Kirkland Lake buzzed with racers, but Rozon’s Racers were focused. Denis’s younger brother Leo was tightening screws on his smaller Blizzard 293. “Ready, Leo?” Denis asked. “Almost!” Leo wiped sweat from his brow, grinning. Beneath the excitement, nerves churned. This wasn’t just any weekend race—this was cross-country. The route from Kirkland Lake to Matheson was unforgiving: icy lakes, dangerous hydro line wires, and slimy mine tailings. Mike and Bud, the adults of the team, prepped their larger Blizzard 625 and 797. Mike gave the teens a serious look. “It’s not just about speed. There’s real danger out there.” Denis nodded but couldn’t shake the stories: racers falling through thin ice, or crashing into guy wires. Still, they’d trained hard for this. Saturday’s practice had been brutal. Leo almost wiped out twice in the tailings, and they’d stopped to help Pete Moreau when his sled got stuck. The race course was merciless, but they were ready. Sunday—Race Day A grey dawn greeted the racers. Engines growled at the start, the air thick with gasoline fumes. Denis exchanged a look with Leo, who smiled nervously. The siren blared, and they were off. Snow sprayed behind the roaring machines as they charged down the first leg. Denis focused on the trail, weaving between trees, keeping pace with Leo. Their first checkpoint came fast. They punched their time cards and pressed on. The mine tailings loomed ahead, a desert of treacherous sludge. Denis's sled hit the edge of the tailings, and for a moment, he thought he’d sink. He gunned the throttle, pulling free. Leo wasn’t so lucky. His sled lurched, his track sinking into the sludge. “Denis!” Leo’s voice cracked with panic. Denis’s mind raced. He could leave Leo and keep his place in the race. But Leo was his brother. He swore and spun around. Together, they wrestled Leo’s sled free, but they had lost precious time. “We’ll catch up,” Leo said, determination masking his fear. The icy river was next. The frozen surface groaned under their sleds. Denis’s heart pounded, each second felt like a lifetime. A loud crack echoed behind them. Denis whipped around to see another racer, Percy, flailing in the icy water. “Should we stop?” Leo yelled. Denis hesitated. The race was still on, but they couldn’t just leave him. He skidded to a stop, throwing a tow rope to Percy. Together, they pulled him onto solid ice. Percy, shivering and soaked, was grateful. They raced to the next checkpoint, where medics took Percy out of the competition. Denis and Leo had lost even more time now. Desperation gnawed at them as they sped through the woods. The low-hanging guy wires from the hydro lines were nearly invisible in the white landscape. A racer ahead wasn’t so lucky, he clipped a wire, sending his sled flipping violently into the trees. Denis dodged, barely missing a wire himself. No more stops, they had to survive the course now. The finish line came into view. Denis pushed his Blizzard to the limit. Leo was right behind him as they closed the gap on the lead racers. In the end, Rozon’s Racers didn’t win first place, but they weren’t last either. As they crossed the line, exhausted but proud, Mike and Bud clapped them on the back. “You did good out there,” Mike said, nodding to Leo. “Most wouldn’t have stopped.” Denis looked at his brother, who smiled tiredly. They hadn’t won the race, but they had done something better—they’d kept each other alive. And that, Denis thought, was the real victory. |
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