Yeti With A Flashlight

At the end of a dead end street,

a small path weaves into the trees.

It's a place that keeps me sane,

A world of both pain and gain.

Escaping the drone of car tires on tarmac,

I descend into a snow filled sanctuary.

They say there's a yeti out there,

I'm not sure exactly where.

A marginally plowed dirt road to myself,

An occasional car, you'll hear from afar.

Two eyes watching, blinking intermittently.

I'm pretty sure that's the yeti.

The eyes are trail markers

Bobbing behind maple stems,

Here's my turn,

Time to feel the burn.

I look forward to what some may call a frozen hell.

A climb I know well,

The hill continues into the night

Never completed without a fight.

Mentally I'm in the zone.

Is this what the yeti calls home?

Off to my left hear a tussle,

Just the wind, causing some beech leaves to rustle.

As legs begin to ache.

I convince myself pain is fake.

Sprint for the peak,

Anything else would be weak.

The pitch has begun to mellow.

Excited I may meet this yeti,

He should be a nice fellow,

Shouldn't he?

Still sweating from the ascent.

I layer up with high speed intent.

Hood pulled up, and pit zips zipped

Double wheel drift corners will be ripped.

Face goes numb, and my muscles twitch.

A glittering glow shines through the forest.

It must be a yeti with a flashlight.

Or simply cold nerves, affecting my sight.

I see his light from behind me,

He's going to catch me soon,

As I turn to check,

It's only the bright full moon.

The sweat, the descent, and now rolling hills,

My body is filled with chills.

I find myself alone

On my ride back home.

I know he's out here,

Perhaps hidden with fear.

Wish he'd come out to play.

No yeti today.