encouraging them further. Despite his caution towards Steele, he knew he would need the team in high spirits if they were going to give it their all for the race. If trouble were to rise, they would deal with it when the time came, but for now they were focused on running their best.

The din from the crowd suddenly silenced as the race official stepped forward to make the opening announcements. Every muscle in his body twitched in anticipation for the starting gun that would mark the start of the race. It felt like he was perched on a cliff, about to jump. There was the apprehension towards the jump, but it would only be remedied by jumping. The official finished his speech before another man raised the gun into the air. Knuckles tightened, hearts pounded and legs wound up as the gun hung in the air. It was only for a moment, but that moment seemed to last an eternity as the finger tightened on the trigger. In a fraction of a second, the trigger snapped the hammer forward and the shot echoed across the hills, finally releasing all the pent up tension.

The harness yanked back as seven dogs bolted forward, moving as one. Twenty-eight feet pounded through the snow, pulling themselves and the sled behind them ahead. The nights had been very cold so the snow was crisp and easy to slide through for the sled's runners. Their action would be reflected by every other team in the race, each charging ahead as the wide line of dogs started to narrow. All around was barking and the occasional thud as runners bumped up against each other.

There was a cry behind them, but Balto could only afford a quick glance before turning back to the road ahead. A couple of teams had gotten in too close to each other and their lines became tangled, tripping them and causing both to tumble into a heap. Both of the mushers were quick to stop the sleds to untangle their dogs, but in doing so they fell behind, allowing others to advance in the race. Despite the closeness, he focused ahead, keeping his path straight to avoid crossing another team. Kaltag had told him that the most exciting part of the race was not the finish, but the start, as it was always a mad dash of teams trying to gain an advantage over each other.

After the first couple of miles, things started to settle, as each team settled into their own pace. Balto and his team had settled on a plan of driving forward to gain an early advantage, settling into a moderate pace in the middle of the race to save energy for the last leg of the race. It was hoped the early advantage would give them some breathing room, but they were also facing other seasoned competitors and would have to find ways to counter their strategies as well.

One of those seasoned competitors was Steele, and his team was now just ahead of them. Every now and then Steele would glance back at them, shooting Balto a dirty look. They were slowly starting to gain on them, first coming level with the back of the runners, then their musher's boots, then the back of the cargo bed. Their slow advance was obviously distressing to Steele, and he pulled at his harness to try to move them forward.

"Hey Balto, I've got an idea that'll mess around with Steele's head, but we've gotta pull back a bit first," Kaltag said, and Balto gave a quick nod before letting his pace slow. Once the other sled had cleared his nose, Kaltag and Star started to swing them to the left. As swing dogs, they were often the ones who determined how sharp their turns were. Steele had been watching their actions and pulled his team to follow their movements, keeping them stuck behind the sled. After this, Kaltag pulled the sled back to the right, and Steele's team followed, staying directly ahead. A few more times they repeated this, each time with Steele and Sonya moving in to block their path.

"Kal, what are youse doin'? They're gonna keep blockin' us," Nikki asked.

"That's what I want him to think," Kaltag replied, pulling them back to the left. "Steele's probably forgotten that we know how he thinks, and we can use that to our advantage. We've gotta make it look like we're making a break to the left, but we'll just fake him out and really go for the right. If he takes our bait, we can get them to slow down enough to pass them easily."

"I think I know what you're getting at," Balto replied. They were going to turn Steele's mad competitiveness against him, and even if it didn't work, he figured Steele's constant motions would annoy Sonya enough to get him to cut it out. He waited a few minutes, and gave the sled in front of him some space before making a dash to the left. Steele saw them vanish from his view and in desperation, bolted to the side, slamming right into Jake, who was beside him. The force of his manoeuvre yanked back Sonya's harness, and disrupted the rhythm of the entire team, costing them some speed. The whole thing lasted only a second, but by the time they'd gotten themselves back in order, Balto and his team were already passing them. They could overhear Sonya tersely telling Steele to not be so stupid, while the rest of the team tried hard to not smile too much as they passed by.

The first leg of the race was smooth sailing, as it followed a well-travelled trail. It wasn't until about an hour down the road that the race went off the beaten path and into the rough bush. While the main road turned to the southwest towards Nenana, the racecourse went to the northwest, into the wild heart of Alaska. This was seen among the sled dogs as the true start of the Trans-Alaskan Derby. It was a race through the wilds with only themselves and the small outposts and towns that were set up as checkpoints. Cut off from most of civilization, it was true test of how hardy a sled team was.

Their course was almost straight towards the next checkpoint in a town called Minto. The path here was not well travelled, so their pace was slowed somewhat by the rougher snow. To counteract this, Balto purposely avoided taking the lead. That way the teams ahead would pack the snow down while they would follow, their way made easier by the trail cut ahead of them. The whole point of this was to lower the strain and save their energy for their big plan. While the main trail would curve southwards to go around a southwestern spur of the White Mountains, they'd heard their musher musing about trying something different this year. In that area, the mountain range wasn't very high, no more than some big hills. For years they'd gone around them, but this time they would go over them, staying the course and making a direct line for Minto.

They would have some good fortune when one team ahead of them decided to try the same thing, going through a pass in the mountains and cutting a trail for them to follow. A quick sniff of their scent proved that they were still a few minutes ahead, but there was a good chance they would close that gap. As they crested a hill, Balto took a quick look back. Sonya and Steele were just coming around the bend. Steele let out a couple of barks, trying to draw her attention to them. She looked up, but decided against it, keeping her team on the trail they knew.

As they continued up the mountain pass, Balto started to wonder if Sonya would be able to handle Steele during this. It was obvious he was driven to win, especially against him, and a bit of worry started to creep up. Steele was going along with things now, but how long would it be before he tried to take matters into his own paws? As much as he valued second chances, Balto couldn't deny that he didn't trust Steele, especially after their brief talk last night. With that in mind, Balto hoped that the rest of the race would be like today - with Steele lagging behind at a safe distance.

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Their play of going over the mountains would end in their favor. The run up the mountain may have slowed them down, but the run down allowed them to pick up speed and make up for lost time. By the time they reached the base of the mountains, their momentum was enough to allow them to overtake the team ahead of them, leaving only open space between them and Minto. Thanks to their shortcut, they could make an easy beeline to the town across the flat tundra between it and the mountains. The flat plain around the town was dotted with many small lakes, but the icy surfaces only benefited them, reducing the drag and allowing them to keep a swift pace.

Soon they saw the collection of cabins that was the town. Unlike larger towns such as Nome or Fairbanks, Minto was a simple bush village, with the only excitement for the few residents coming when the teams passed through during the derby in January. Unlike what the dogs saw as four star accommodation in Fairbanks, here they would have to eke it out in the snow around the town, while their mushers found lodging with the residents, who were more than happy to open their door for visitors.

After a long day of running, all involved were happy to get some rest. As per the official rules of the derby, the mushers had to sign in at the checkpoint before starting a mandatory rest period. In order to allow the dogs time to rest, they were supposed to take an eight-hour rest period at every checkpoint. It started the moment they checked in, and only after at least eight hours were they allowed to leave to prevent any team getting an unfair advantage over the others. That way, the rough positions of the teams during the race would be maintained along the way while still allowing them time to stop and rest. With that in mind, most mushers made sure they left after eight hours exactly - any delay would cost them time during the race.

After checking in, the team was overjoyed to find that they were already in fourth position out of fifteen teams. As the