Wild and close to home: Aiken Canyon

Patch of similar geography on either side hid the preserve – the only difference was a handful of large houses spread across the hillside. But Aiken Canyon Preserve would probably see heavier visitation if it were in the mountains, not the foothills west of Cheyenne Mountain.

A 6:30 a.m. start assured my friend Tim and I would have the trail to ourselves for a while. The park includes a 4-mile moderate loop, plus side trail and overlook that add another 1.5 miles. At that hour the trail was light on insects.

At more than 1,600 acres, the state owns Aiken Canyon, but the Nature Conversancy administers the land, and charges no entry fee. As one of the last plots of intact Front Range foothill ecosystem, Aiken Canyon protects red rock formations, pine forests and scrubland across its dry creeks. More than 100 species of bird have been spotted here. The number of new bird calls I heard was staggering.

Nothing runs too tall here, but some parts of the hike are moderately strenuous. The morning was quiet, just the occasion car noise from Route 115 and little else but chattering birds and insects. The train runs through several dry creek beds as the loop moves closer toward the hills in the park interior. Wildflowers and cacti were beginning to bloom.

A few lizards scrambled around. The path moved steadily up toward large red rock formations not unlike Garden of the Gods or the Red Rock Canyon Open Space.

A side trail headed up a dry river bed into a box canyon. At one point, obvious trails disappeared at a collapsed cabin with planks and pipes sticking up. Hopes for a superior view of the canyon walls faded as no path forward arrived. But that was fine. Later we found out the trail did end at the former cabin.

It was a place worth stopping. Wildlife will emerge, here it came from above. Hummingbirds buzzed us along the trail, where the air was significantly cooler than elsewhere on the trail. Other bird song echoed through the canyon, as did the occasional woodpecker strike. The trunk of an old tree along the trail was riddled with holes, likely from woodpeckers seeking grubs under the bark. The occasion woodpecker burst came from high in the forest. The pine forest hides some fantastic canyon walls, giving only glimpses from the trail.

The signs became increasingly difficult to misread until the geography spoke otherwise. We ascended the quarter-mile trail to the lookout, which gave 360-degree views of the surrounding foothills. Since the overlook had no obvious end point, we continued down the other side. It seemed a little steep but still formed a path. At that point, there was no way down from the red rock, and that was not clear from the top. We turned around and took the steep route up the hill then returned to the loop trail.

To the south we could see all the way to the Spanish Peaks (they have been an increasing landmark for me on clear days), the Wet Mountains and the Sangre de Cristo. Pinon pines sprouted fresh cones, their sweet sap scenting the air atop the hill.

All 10 people we passed were walking the trail in the opposite direction we chose. After the overlook, the next mile involved a steep descent on a winding trail that switched back frequently. It ensured we were gassed on the last stretch and eager to find the trailhead.

I almost hope Aiken Canyon does not become better known, since its trails provided a good early morning challenge and scores of birding opportunities. Buzzing of hummingbirds will never get old.