If you're lucky enough to be in the mountains, you are lucky enough.

When something bad happens, you have three choices: let it define you, let it destroy you, or let it strengthen you.

Monday, December 28, 2020

Ode to Incline.

Today was my last Incline of the year 2020. One of the goals I had for this year was to do 20 ascends of Incline, our crazy 2,000 feet climb in 0.9 mile with 2,760 steps of a staircase built over the old rail road. It's a butt kicker no matter how you cut it, some steps are so high I have to grab by hands (sometimes I mange not to, but it doesn't make it better or worse). Regardless how many times I had done it - which is 35 total, not that anyone counting - it's not getting even marginally easier. It also doesn't depend on how fast(ish) or slow I climb, I feel the same insane "I can't do it" feeling. And yet, I do it, and when I finally stand on that last step at the top, I am so damn proud of my accomplishment. My best time for this thing is from September 2019 (33:54), and this year it ranged anywhere from 43+ to 35+. I never got close enough to the best, and surely had many more super-slow climbs than those I can brag about. Nearly half of them if not more are hanging right around 38 min, under or a touch over, like I am stuck there. But I did them, just because it's a hell of a workout.

My first this year started right on January 4th. It gave my an indication how much I will love those sunrises behind my shoulder, and how hard I will have to work to get my ass here, twice a month.

The second rolled 2 weeks later, with friends visiting from North Front Range (all former Austinites).



February saw nothing. I am not sure why and what happened, besides a week trip to Austin for work, but no Incline was recorded. Then I went to Russia. Then Covid hit...which shut everything down, including, you guessed it, Incline! In theory, our Governor had some common sense to NOT close outdoors (a.k.a. trailheads, like some states), but Incline, despite being public property and owned/operated by the city Of Colorado Springs, has its start located in Manitou, and the major of that town, lets just say, is a bit totalitarian...So yeah, there was an issued order of no people on Incline. Like the real locals are gonna listen. So, I hit it a few times, because I couldn't let my goal slip away: end of March, and then every week in April.





In May, Manitou went nuts. They instituted a $2,375 fine and a potential jail time for being on Incline. I mean, it was an ordinance, and no cops would ever follow it, but I took a month break. Besides, that was the months of my best running - and my return to work, so altogether it was ok. But I couldn't let it go, plus I was pissed that someone tells me what to do. Screw you! So, I went back at the end of May, and got back in June, joined once by my good friend Pam visiting me from Oregon.


In July I only hit it once, at the end of the month, sometime after my unsuccessful attempt at Collegiate.

The "scary sign" was still there, but I knew for a fact, those of us who are local enough and determined enough and not under the "spell of the rulers" kept on showing up, way before dawn mostly. Nobody got stopped. But it did keep out the tourists and some others who are not as bull-minded. August and first half of September took me on two more Collegiate loops (one of which resulted in FKT), a backpacking trip to Wyoming, and some travel. By September, though, the "power at will" made a decision to institute a sign-in system for every 30 min slot to hike Incline. It was free, but I had to register online a week in advance, and at the bottom get a wrist band, you know, as if you're a kid in a public pool. I returned, because I had still plenty of climbs left to be done to make it 20, I wasn't backing up, as much as I disliked the idea of putting my name down and reporting to authority. After 3 times hitting the "wrist markers" at the bottom, I vowed to come way before 6 am that first time slot I was signing for, and kept my pretty weekly streak alive. I, and a dozen other hard core, some of whom I recognized and even learned names of. Yep, by 6 am or shortly after, a few of us had already made the top, so catch us if you can!











November was my more productive month as I was trying to catch up with the number, afraid that I won't hit 20 by the time snow hits. In reality, though, Incline is a year-round thing, even in snow is accessible, even prettier than bare, and only going down Barr trail may present a little challenge in the snow and ice. Before Thanksgiving I was ready for #20, and dear Larry agreed to keep me company for such an accomplishment. He did awesome, considering it was his only 3rd time climbing this Monster, and the last time was 2.5 years ago. It was a great thing to celebrate it together!

One would think 20 is enough, besides, who goes past the goal? But of course. Why stop. I didn't care for the numbers anymore, but I truly appreciated this incredible challenge to be at my disposal, and I wanted to keep my weekly goings, now a little less tasked by the pressure of how many, but pushing my body nevertheless. 4 more in December (one of which was on the day my boys turned 25 and 30), and I conclude year 2020 with 24 Incline ascends for the year (and 35 total).




It's been a hell of a year. I like to keep at least a few things in my life constant. Incline provided me just that. I am grateful for its presence, its calling to me, its punishment, its sunrises, its' beauty once you turn your head around and see the city - MY CITY - lay below. Thank you. I will be back for more.



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