Mueller Park at peak

 

The weather seemed perfect in late September. Fall wanted to hang around Colorado for once. I had no choice but to take a second fall color trip to the high country. I decided to stick closer to home this time.

The west flank of Pikes Peak had foothills that ran as high as those around Leadville. Mueller State Park protects one prominent ridge, with clear-day views to the Collegiate Peaks and south to the mountains hiding Cripple Creek. 

Mueller often hits capacity during leaf-peeping weekends. That is rarely true on other weekends. The beautiful park is regularly almost empty. At 7 am., few people roam Mueller. Aiming for an early hour would provide me with another round of forested solitude and hard breaths above 9,000 feet of elevation. 

I always stop to take in the view of Monarch Pass and Colorado’s highest mountains, the gentle giants of the Sawatch Range. More than 50 miles away as the crow flies, they feel far closer. 

People don’t venture as deeply into Mueller as they could due to its topography. The park road and visitor center sit on a ridgetop, and almost every trail begins with a descent. But that works great for those of us who choose to take the strain at the hike’s end. I saw it quickly this Sunday. A little crowd on one of the short trails, then nothing. 

The wind ripped up occasionally, the aspen leaves wiggling but not set to flee their branches. We were firmly in fall, but winter was always close at this elevation. 

Despite lack of people, I wasn’t alone. A small group of mule deer grazed in one of the gulleys and watched me warily. Deer might grow common in the city, but I still delight in seeing them in the wild, especially when I don’t have to share the experience. I didn’t step any closer, but they watched me till I rounded the corner and left them behind. 

The trail rolled for a while, then came to a clear southern viewpoint, where the hills that rise toward Cripple Creek burst with color. I stood there for far longer than I realized, just staring at patterns on the mountains that would vanish in weeks. 

I neared the boundary for the Dome Rock State Wildlife Area, but my expired fishing license meant I had to turn back before the gate. The hike back up challenged me, but I saw just one older couple hiking into the dense woods. I just stopped and soaked in the color whenever I couldn't find a good breath. 

I heard voices as I ascended the steep trail back to the main overlook. People flowed into the park. By afternoon, park rangers would be turning people away. 

I exhaled at the relief of flowing back out, knowing that last taste of Colorado fall color would hold me through winter.