Klondike Solitaire
The one everybody means. Turn one, unlimited redeals, unlimited undo.
The one everybody means. Turn one, unlimited redeals, unlimited undo.
This is the solitaire that came free with every computer for thirty years, and the one people picture when they hear the word. Seven columns, four foundations, a stock you turn one card at a time. Build down in alternating colours, send the aces home, and try to get all fifty-two cards up top.
Roughly four deals in five can be won with perfect play. Most people win nearer one in three, which is exactly why the undo button here has no limit — the point is to enjoy it, not to be punished by a shuffle you never had a chance against.
No, and anyone who says otherwise is selling something. With turn-one and unlimited redeals, somewhere around 80% of deals are theoretically solvable with perfect play and full knowledge of the face-down cards — which of course you don't have. In practice good players win around a third of the time. When this game tells you there are no moves left, it means it: the deal is dead, and it isn't your fault.
How many cards you flip from the stock at a time. Turn one shows you every card and is far more forgiving. Turn three shows you every third card, which means two out of three are locked away until the order shifts — dramatically harder, and the version card sharps consider the real game. There's a turn-three table if you want the fight.
You can — but only if it's a proper sequence: descending, alternating colours, all the way down. If the run is broken, the engine won't let you lift it, because that isn't a legal move in Klondike. (Yukon, on the other hand, lets you lift anything at all. That's a different game.)
Same engine, different rulebooks. They're all free, and none of them want your email.