Taking the Next Right Step: Lessons from the Manitou Incline
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Every New Year’s Day, our family begins the year the same way—by hiking the Manitou Incline. What started as a one-time challenge has become a quiet tradition, offering lessons I seem to need again and again.
For those unfamiliar, the Manitou Incline is a steep climb: 2,768 steps over one mile, with a 2,020-foot elevation gain. It’s slow, demanding, and humbling—especially for someone like me, now over 50. I’m firmly in the tortoise category. My goal each year is simple: finish the hike and go home without a hospital visit.
One Step at a Time
The story of The Tortoise and the Hare plays out on the Incline every year. From the start, my husband and I move slowly and steadily. We often see younger hikers rush ahead early on, only to encounter them again later as we continue at our own rhythm.
I still fall into the trap of comparison, feeling like I’m “behind.” But the Incline reminds me there is no behind. I am exactly where I am meant to be. All I need to do is take the next step—and breathe. Rhythm matters. Focusing on the next step, not the last one.
The Journey Matters
This year, my husband and I held hands and climbed together, gently keeping each other grounded. Years ago, I hiked the Incline with two friends. One raced straight to the top while I stayed back with the other, waiting as she caught her breath. We talked, laughed, and enjoyed the scenery along the way.
When we finally reached the summit, the friend who arrived first told us she hated the hike and would never do it again. That moment stayed with me. How we move through the journey matters just as much as reaching the destination.

The False Summit
Because the Incline is so steep, you can’t see the entire route from where you stand. Partway up, you see what looks like the top—but it isn’t. If you don’t know this, it’s easy to feel discouraged when you realize there are still hundreds of steps to go.
Life has false summits too. Perseverance means continuing forward, even when the finish line isn’t as close as we hoped.
The Joy of Finishing
At the top on New Year’s Day, free pancakes await everyone who completes the challenge. It doesn’t matter how long it takes—everyone receives the same reward. The joy of finishing has a way of erasing the memory of sore legs and heavy breathing.
As we step into a new year, the Incline leaves me with a simple reminder: I don’t need to rush or compare. I just need to take the next right step.
