Halfway up the Manitou Incline, I’m doubled over, hands on knees, sucking air. But the air is thin at 7,500 feet or in Colorado and I fight to catch my breath. It doesn’t help. I reach to the side and hold on to some rocks. 

After a minute, I look down from where I came. It’s a long way. I turn and look up. It’s still a long way to the top. I take another deep breath, exhale and resume my mission. Slow motion. Deliberate steps. One at a time.  

I mutter to myself. 

“C’mon Buley. Focus. You’ve got this. Don’t look up."

I am not alone. 

There are men and women ahead of and behind me, slowly making their way up the Manitou Incline on a sunny Tuesday morning. I’m told they come from near and far to conquer this stairway that climbs about 2,000 feet in less than a mile.  

Some 250,000 people try this famous incline every year, which starts in the beautiful town of Manitou Springs. It goes up the Rocky Mountain near Pikes Peak. Most make it. Some turn back, likely to try again. The best can reach the top in 30 minutes or so. For normal people, an hour or more. 

All told, there are 2,744 stairs. Early on, they are spaced evenly, the ascent is reasonable. But about a third of the way up, the stairs grow steeper. Farther apart. Uneven. The grade at some points is nearly 70%. I found myself using my hands, scrambling, nearly crawling. Every so often, annoyed, I say 'the hell with it' and charge about 10 or 20 steps, stopping before collapsing. 

This is at the same time crazy and wonderful. 

Sweat drips off my face as I chat with a man name Steve who has done this many times before, but on this day, he said he doesn’t feel right and is turning back. 

“Most days I love it. Not today,” he said. 

I was warned of a false summit about two-thirds of the way up.  

“Don’t be fooled,” the parking attendant told me. “There’s more to go than it looks like.” 

He is right. 

But he didn’t tell me it gets a little easier after this. The steps are more uniform. Shorter. I’m feeling better. Stronger. Lighter.  

And suddenly, I’m there. The summit. It kind of sneaked up on me. 

No finish line. No cheers. No medals. No clock. 

Just people standing around, sitting, talking, enjoying the view. What it took to get there was worth it.

"That was easy,” I announce for comic effect. A few people laugh. 

My watch reads 47 minutes, 34 seconds. Not bad for the first time. 

I FaceTime my wife, waiting at the base of the incline near the Cog Railroad. 

“I’m here.” 

She seems surprised. 

“Already?” 

While you can take the stairs down, I opt for the standard route on the Barr Trail, about 3 miles of switchbacks. 

Feeling euphoric from my victory on the Manitou Incline, I charge off, whooping and hollering, leaping over rocks and bounding around turns. It takes 41 minutes. 

At the bottom, I am rejuvenated. I feel like a kid again. God, that was fun. 

Before we leave, I take a last look at the stairs as they disappear into the distance.

I don’t know if I’ll be back, but at least now I know where they lead. 

And it is a good place.

• • •

Bill Buley is assistant managing editor of The Press. He can be reached at [email protected].