Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; he will not see me stopping here to watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near between the woods and frozen lake the darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake to ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.
—from Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, a poem by Robert Frost
Active since August 3, 2020.
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| Universe | Races | Average WPM | First Race |
|---|---|---|---|
| Default (English) | 19,437 | 89.89 | August 3, 2020 |
| Instant Death Mode | 14 | 102.85 | April 5, 2021 |