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It was a Sunday morning, winter sun (barely up, and it almost appeared hesitant) with ice mist over the frozen river, dogs barking in the forest, and the Far Hills of Val Morin... well, they looked longer, but lazier and easier... Feet numb, tips of my fingers frozen, okay just 15 kilometers left to go. I know what you are saying Voodoo... Even if it's not exactly it, the feeling's the same. God I love this sport.
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