The Best Portion

Manitou Incline

Mary Ellen Mark says, "Reality is always extraordinary." If that's a rule, today was no exception.

Steve and I began our hike up Manitou Incline as we have so many times before. He started running up; I took a more leisurely approach, though the Incline isn't a leisurely climb at any pace. It isn't a trail - it's an old railroad bed that rises over 2,000 feet in elevation in less than a mile. Climbing over 5,000 decaying railroad ties represents a unique and formidable challenge and hundreds, perhaps thousands of people march pass the "No Trespassing" sign each weekend, just to feel the burn. I'm not sure what makes it so darned fun, but it is.

At the top of the Incline, a little path leads to the Barr Trail, "the main path" to the top of Pikes Peak. At this junction, Incline hikers turn left and go downhill, back to the quaint town of Manitou Springs. It's a lovely downhill stroll through a forest of aspen trees, blue spruce and ponderosa pine. I should say, it could be a lovely stroll, but people want to race down, and the loose gravel isn't a safe surface for running.

On my descent today, a couple of teenage girls dashed past me, down the trail. Just a few yards forward, one of the girls tripped, and oh, what a terrible fall. Her ankle was visibly broken and she was visibly shaken. As I called the paramedic, her girlfriend cradled her, and other hikers stopped and offered to lend assistance.

It is in those moments that we witness the best of humanity. Strangers become comrades, quickly uniting to care for someone in need. We didn't exchange names, we didn't become friends. But we shared the best of ourselves, and I was so blessed to be there, to experience again the great goodness that exists within my fellow man.

William Wordsworth said it so simply, so eloquently ~

That best portion of a good man's life,

His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
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