I begin my run once I reach the top.
A chilly sensation shoots down my spine.
Increasing my speed, I am forced to stop.
Starting again, I come to a decline.
The hill is much too steep for my skill.
Its known as a beast called the "Ole Great North"
Standing in place thinking, I remain still.
With the power of the snake i push forth.
Hitting the first turn with little speed.
Faster as i go on i need to slow.
It's just me and my board, my trusty steed.
I completed the hard trail with great flow!
I am called a pro with style so stark.
However, I'm no superman, I'm Mark