Another Check On The Bucketlist: The Manitou Incline

Worn out. I guess that's what you should feel after you climb 2000 vertical feet in under a mile. This August, while near Pike's Peak, Colorado cheering on one of my best friends as she ran the half marathon up the mountain, I took some time and completed my own challenge: The Manitou Incline. The Incline was an activity that had been on my mind for over a year, ever since researching things to do the last time I went to Pike's Peak. I was in no condition to attempt the climb last August; I had literally just had a liver biopsy done the day before I went to Colorado, and was told to take it easy or risk internal bleeding. So no Incline. This year, however, I was determined. I was going to complete the climb, come hell or high water.

2/3 the way up

The Manitou Incline was once a cable tram route up Pike's Peak, a 14,000ft mountain on Colorado's Front Range, just west of Colorado Springs. It consists of hundreds of railroad ties laid out in steps straight up the side of the mountain. There is a "bailout trail" about 2/3 the way up, for those who can't or won't finish the Incline, and a connector trail at the top for Barr Trail to take you back down the mountain on more friendly terrain. The actual Incline, however, is brutal.

I hated those stairs....

I started my climb at dawn, both eager to start and just wanting to be finished before it got hot or rainy. You never know what weather the day will hold while among the mountains. I parked, then hoofed it to the trail head along with a hundred other people, all wanting to test their mettle against one of the most strenuous hikes in the country. I had a pretty good pace going at first, where the ground only sloped upward at a gentle angle and I still could breathe. And then I began going up. Straight up.

Almost there...

The railroad tie stairs were uneven, some wide and some narrow, sometimes stacked two or three high right on top of each other. More than once, I was using my hands as well as my feet to cling to the side of the mountain because whenever I tried to stand up straight, gravity and exhaustion threatened to send me tumbling backwards down the mountain. I pressed on, stopping every twenty feet or so to attempt to catch my breath. Some of my fellow climbers had brought speakers with them, listening to whatever music they needed to get to the top. I have to admit, listening to Volbeat blasted at full volume did wonders for my energy level, and I definitely tried to keep up with that group as we worked our way up the mountain.

From the Top!!

Eventually, though, they stopped to rest and I kept going. The bailout trail was on our left, and I overheard them seriously debating skipping out as I passed. I kept going, resting frequently as I tried to regain my breath. I crested the false summit, something I had been prepared for but others weren't. People had really thought they were at the top. I pushed myself harder, knowing I really wasn't too far from my goal. I all but crawled to the top, using my hands to keep me on my feet as I refused to slow down or take a break. I knew what the large group all standing around, cheering their various buddies on meant. I was almost there! I went faster and faster, and when I finally reached the top I all but collapsed onto the nearest rock. I rested for a while, watching the relief in other's faces as they finally reached the top too. After I regained my breath, I wandered down the connector trail to the Barr Trail. Going up would take me to the summit of Pike's Peak. Down led back to the parking lot. I headed down, taking my time and enjoying the type of mountain trail that I'm used to. I was, and still am, so proud of myself for accomplishing the Incline! The Manitou Incline landed itself in my top three most difficult adventures ever, and you know what? I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

The Barr Trail. Much nicer. And easier.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: Taking a Stroll Over Gemini Bridges

A bumpy 4-wheel drive road led us over desert ridges and through dry washes. We bounced along, taking in the red and white rocks and the silvery green desert sage that surrounded us. We reached our destination, Gemini Bridges, and Dad, Austin and I got out of the truck and walked a short distanced to the bridges. Both bridges, carved by flood waters, wind, ice and gravity, hung suspended a hundred feet over the canyon bottom, fifty feet thick but maybe only five feet wide. We weren't the only ones admiring the bridges; several others were taking turns walking one by one across the top of the bigger one, and I knew I just had to do the same. I convinced my brother to hang back and snap a couple photos of my dad and I as we paused halfway along the bridge. Looking down over the edge made me feel really small, and now looking at this picture I feel even more so. I think the only reason you can see Dad and I is because we were wearing bright clothing! Compared to the bridge and the canyon, we were insignificant, and our combined weight was nothing to the thousands of pounds of rock that we stood on, even though we were technically over thin air! I walked back and forth over both bridges a couple of times, relishing in the adrenaline rush I got whenever I crossed over the thinnest point. What a feeling!

Leave me a comment below and tell me if you'd have been able to walk across either of those natural bridges.

What Happens on the Trail...

Friendly. A magical thing happens when you step off the pavement and onto a hiking trail: everybody becomes a friend. No matter where I hike, long or short, everybody becomes more polite than they would be if I were to walk past them on a city street. Even I become more polite; I smile at people, make eye contact, and at least say hello. Do you think I'd do that to the random John Doe I pass on the streets? I may like traveling alone, but I'm actually pretty shy when it comes to conversing with random people. I'd rather keep my mouth shut and my eyes downcast, afraid to catch someone's eye and have to acknowledge another human being.

And yet, put me on a trail and I become the nicest, most friendly person you meet. I'll happily share my water or snacks with you, make sure your hike is going well, and assist with blisters or other minor injuries if I have the supplies and you don't. Aside from being a nice person, I want the people who take the time and make the effort to get out and hike to enjoy doing so. I've had my fair share of shitty hiking; they're few and far between, but bad hiking experiences do happen. If I have something in my pack that will make your hike that much better, I will happily share it with you. And I've had the pleasure of finding that a lot of other people on the trail share the same thoughts as I do.

When I first started hiking, way back when I was a kid still living with my parents, and we were hiking while on a family vacation I noticed that a lot of people greeted each other while on the trail. Usually something such as "good morning, how are you," but sometimes these pleasantries morphed into conversations about the remaining trail, how far was left before the destination, and more than once inquires regarding where each member of the conversation was from, how long we were in the area, ect. From a very young age, I've witnessed and participated in being nice while on the trail. Even if you're tired, you still smile at the other person and acknowledge their presence with a simple nod.

As I've gotten older, especially since I started hiking on my own, I've noticed some differences in "trail people" depending on how long the trail is. Now, this is also dependent on where the trail happens to be, whether it's in a popular park or a small, out of the way forest, but I've found the following general rules to hold true: Short trails usually have too much traffic. There are too many people, too many tired children, moody teenagers and harrassed parents. People are less interested in what others are doing, and couldn't care less if anybody is having a better or worse time than they are. Sure, you get the few hikers who smile and nod, but that's the most you should hope for. When you're on a long trail, it's rather unlikely to meet other hikers. If you do cross paths, every single person is polite, concerned, and willing to stop for a short chat. These are the people who want to make sure everything goes ok for you, even though you're a random stranger. But your chances of seeing someone else decrease as your trail length increases. It's the medium length trails that seem to have the highest amount of friendly people on them. The mid-length trails are long enough to keep the bored/tired/unhappy people off of them, but short enough to put you into contact with people who will make sure you don't run into much trouble, or who will help alleviate any problems you do have.

Of course, nearly everybody will tell you to hike with at least one other person, preferably a group of people, but that's not always an option. I never let the lack of a partner stop me from hiking, and I'm more than willing to tackle a long trail with a slim chance of seeing another human being for the length of it. When I do hike alone, though, people tend to become more concerned and almost always stop for a chat. They make sure I'm ok, have enough water/snacks, that my feet are good and that I'm not too tired. I usually get more warnings about the trail ahead of me, usually pertaining to rocky/slick areas, thin bridges, or drop-offs. I appreciate information like that.

I've made it perfectly clear that I love hiking and that I have no intentions of stopping. I recently broke my distance record, and have plans to hike even farther and longer than I ever have before. Moving off of short trails has left me a happier person, mostly because I don't have to deal with people who aren't invested in their hike. To hike a medium-long trail, you have to really want to. And you know that the others on the longer trails want to be there too, which makes you that much nicer to them. Who knows, you might even get to talk to someone who gives you your next adventure idea. Where do you think I get my crazier ideas?