The Hunt

Retired Ride

I no longer climb the snowy hill, 

But my secret’s inside—if you will.

Near the perch where young hawks rest, 

Your codeword lies, within the nest.

An Elder’s Wisdom

I rafted the river with Huck at my side, 

Now still as stone, I no longer ride. 

If you seek truth from a quiet old man, 

The answer you need is right in my hand.

A Sharp Direction

A skater’s blade—a compass does make. 

Look to the sky to find what’s at stake.

A Stagedoor Sighting

No trumpet, no tuba, but horns just the same. 

Meet him below, to applaud in his name.

Style Over Substance

I wear no suit, no silk, no sash,

Yet stand for style—some call it panache.

Beside home goods and decorations shown,

The clue is perched where feather meets stone.

Cranial Carving

Two aspens stand, where steps descend into brook. 

Upon the bark, a secret codebook. 

Four lines stand out, one letter echo’d oft… 

Its total gives the number sought.

Winter’s Reflection

The Storm

Where Coyotes yip and snowflakes spin—

A tiny tempest hides within.

Free to Roam

I’m made for snow, for mud, for rain. 

We’ll ‘go places,’ if you can win my game.

On Higher Ground

The hunt is done, you’ve played with heart! 

Now find the lift where endings start.

At Centennial, your journey’s not quite through—

A final locale waits atop for you.

Please meet at Centennial Lift by 1:00pm, regardless of your progress.