The Manitou Incline Can K.M.A.

The Manitou Incline is one mile long, up 2800 steps, reaches a maximum grade of about 68% (34°) in places, with an average grade of roughly 41–45%, making it one of the steepest hiking trails in the U.S., and starts at 6500' above sea level finishing at about 8500'. It is, without a doubt, a wicked climb.

The Incline ascends Mount Manitou on the east slope of Rocky Mountain which is itself on the eastern flank of Pikes Peak and is an old rail bed. For comparison, Koko Crater, which we hiked in 2025, is less than half the distance and starts at relatively sea level.

Pat O'Brien, my friend since 10th Grade, recommended we try the Manitou Incline since I was visiting him. Never mind that I am a flatlander who lives at 400' above sea level on the East Coast and he lives in Denver. This was going to be "fun". 

And yes, I prepared. I trained. I did the stepper at the gym for 40 minutes. I even skipped every other step just to mimic the conditions of this staircase. I watched YouTube videos! 

The Incline turned out to be both a physical and mental challenge, one I knew I was getting into voluntarily. Standing at the base and looking up, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time, trepidation. It looked like a staircase that would not end.

Slow and steady we set out and slow and steady we walked the entire time. Each time we stopped for a rest the summit looked just as far as when we started, even after hundreds of steps. The steps are marked by the hundreds so you can track your progress and dishearten you at the same time.

By half way up, every breath was labored. As the steps became uneven, every step ilicted an expletive. Watching Pat struggle too made me feel a little better. 

There is a "false summit" that because of the grade of the incline, looks like the top, but is not. When you get there you find hundreds of more steps.

EFF this hike.

By the time we got to the top we went through the snacks and most of the water. Along the way we talked to everyone we encountered - either receiving or giving words of encouragement.  Some people passed us and we saw them coming back down before we even got three quarters of the way up. Other people we passed were never seen at the top. Everyone was on their own journey. "God knows where Pat is". 

The view from the top gives you the reward of seeing the town down below. The visuals of the distance and the elevation are a reward of their own - a sense of real accomplishment. The view of Pike's Peak another 6000' up is a reminder that some victories can be humbling.  

I am glad I did the Manitou Incline and would consider doing it again as long as I can watch Lisa, who suffers from Passive Aggressive Competitivism, go up too!

Soundtrack of My Youth, Revisited

"We are young
Wandering the face of the Earth
Wondering what our dreams might be worth
Learning that we're only immortal for a limited time" NP

 Six years ago I wrote about the band, Rush, and the passing of their drummer, Neil Peart. Neil Peart died of cancer in 2020. He was,and still is, one of the greatest drummers in the world in any genre of music.  When he died, the band - for all appearances - also died.  After all, the three man line-up had been together for over forty years and were all good friends. When Rush ended, so did a piece of me, reminding me that time claims us all.

Rush wrote the soundtrack to my teenage years. Not angst driven dirges or uplifting pop, Rush was something else, something different. Future and fantasy and folklore meets big drums, guitars and synthesizers. Music for nerds. Of which, I was and still am. From fifteen until my late twenties, their music gave me an escape. An entire album side that tells the story of a Orwellian society without music - and then someone finds a guitar in the year 2112?! Yes, please count me in. Modern day warrior with a mean, mean stride living in the sprawling fringes of the city in geometric order? I wanted to be that guy.

"Too many hands on my time
Too many feelings
Too many things on my mind
When I leave, I don't know
What I'm hoping to find
When I leave, I don't know
What I'm leaving behind" NP

Admittedly, I grew away from Rush's later work but loved their 40th anniversary concert videos. I watched their documentary. Their Rock n Roll Hall of Fame induction - especially Alex's speech - was great to watch and well over due. A band that is self aware and not afraid to make fun of themselves or be reflective is a great band. And then Neil was gone and all we had were the memories.

Then...

Last year the two surviving members announced that they found a drummer and were going to tour. At first, it seemed like blasphemy and a slap in the face of their friend. A money grab. Who was this drummer anyway? What washed up band did he come from? How on earth did he think he could fill Neil's shoes?!

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Anika Nilles, a forty-something, German woman.

And the Rush faithful paused. What is this? Who is this?! Maybe we should hold our judgement for a beat or two.   

There was already video footage of Anika playing. The news was already out that she was not Neil Peart. She was Anika Nilles, and she was a force to be reckoned with. 

Rush, the Fifty-something Tour. When tickets went on sale my best friend since 10th grade got a pair. In Denver.  Although we talk almost every week (and we talked about THIS), I hadn't seen Pat O'Brien in while, aside from a quick visit last year, and this was a perfect excuse to go see him. 

Leading up to the show it hit me, I am going to see Rush thirty-four plus years since I last saw them. Rush, the only band I would fly two-thirds across the country and go into a crowded arena for. Rush, live on stage with me in the audience. It was a strange wave of emotions. Hope. Happiness. Giddy excitement. Pat and I joined the throngs of over fifty year old men in the Ball Arena in anticipation.

"For the words of the profits were written on the studio wall
Concert hall" NP

The band did not disappoint at all. They opened with a song that hadn't been played live in over forty years and it rocked. They paid tribute to their fallen friend and we felt the shared loss. They rocked the songs that we all love. They took a break and came back to play the entire album, Moving Pictures, and half a dozen other songs in the second set before their encore. Hearing songs that I have only heard on record, cassette, or CD live, for the first time reminded me that studio recordings are only the foundation for live shows. Anika might be young, but the boys are no spring chickens. And they still they rocked it. We all rocked it.  

 

 

"Time stands still

Summer's going fast
Nights growing colder
Children growing up
Old friends growing older

Freeze this moment
A little bit longer
Make each sensation
A little bit stronger" NP

In the 1980s and 1990's, my teen and young adult years, music was a common thread between people. Yes, there was MTV, but the spirit of the radio bound us. Last week, the music and Pat's friendship resonated and filled me and carried me through an amazing night. 

 

 

  

Why Disney, Revisited

Many years ago, near the start of this journal, I wrote about why we love Disney. And over the course of many years together and building a family, we have had many visits to Disney World. Disney never disappoints.  

Yes, of course, we have done many other things to give our family experiences; spring breaks in Utah, NYC, Alaska, Hawaii, DC, and Mexico. Trips to the beach and mountains too.  

Yet, Disney is the one place we gravitate to because some of our core memories were made there. TJ getting kissed on his little baby forehead by Snow White, Grant's uncontained excitement his first time on Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, Sam going "big sister" mode and taking the boys to Animal Kingdom in 2018 while Lisa and I recovered from the Half Marathon, Lisa and I enjoying DWTK (Disney Without the Kids) trips, and our numerous races over the years. Disney gives us back.

I know some people look at us and wonder how or why we visit so many times. It's the same reason people like to tow a camper into the woods and sit by a campfire, or buy season tickets and tailgate at games, or collect things - it gives us pleasure. Correction, it gives us joy. I don't judge what people spend on golf clubs, don't judge us on Lightning Lanes.

Lately, I have been disheartened at work and have been grumpy (not the dwarf) at home. It has been a funk I haven't been able to pull myself out of. Last week, Grant and I went to Disney and Samantha came in for a day. It was like a beam of sunshine. You could not get the smile off my face. I felt it in my core.

Watching Grant ride Guardians of the Galaxy, Cosmic Rewind for the first time, riding Smuggler's Run with Sam and Grant, watching Sam's anxiety rise on the Orange Line of Mission Space, riding Tron - at night - in the front row!, and Grant eating food from more than half a dozen countries during the Food & Wine Festival we made a new set of memories.

These are my core memories too. Memories of standing in line on Pirates of the Caribbean with my mom and dad at nine years old. Memories of Samantha jumping for joy at four years old as she entered the Magic Kingdom for the first time with me and my mom. 

It is my happiest place above all others.