I decided to do an overnight in the Buffalo Creek Recreation Area. This area is mostly used by campers and mountain bikers, though the Coloardo Trail does run through it and that trail, at least, sees a certain number of backpackers. I would do an overnight on the 12-mile Little Scraggy Loop, which is a fairly new loop. I chose not to bring a stove, taking only food that didn't require cooking.
View of Little Scraggy Mountain
I arrived at the trailhead around 3:30 on Saturday. I didn't want to get there too early since I didn't want to have to constantly step off the trail for mountain bikers. And, thankfully, it was not too busy. Since there didn't appear to be any year-long water sources on the trail, I carried all the water I would need for 24 hours.
The first thing I noticed when I started hiking was the gunfire. It seemed there was a firing range somewhere along the road I'd come in on; as I hiked it got louder and louder, and then started to fade into the distance. I clung to the assumption that they wouldn't have built the trail here if there were any danger of being hit by stray bullets from the (presumed) range.
Since the trail was built for mountain bikes, it was nicely graded, without any really steep sections. The downside is that on inclines it zigzagged crazily back and forth, making an absurd number of switchbacks, which kept the grade low. This doubled the distance I had to walk in these sections; a trail built explicitly for hikers would have made half the switchbacks at a steeper grade. I felt somewhat ridiculous going back and forth and back and forth when I could have just made a few steps downhill.
The trail cut through fairly plain ponderosa pine forest with few views, but there were many granite boulders with intriguing shapes. These ones looked a bit like giant vertebrae on pedestals.
At 6:30 I started looking for a campsite. I walked off-trail to a high point that had a good view, and considered camping there; unfortunately, with neither land nor trees in the way, the gunfire and auto noise from the road -- as well as some mooing and unexplained giddy screaming by what seemed to be an entire family -- was much louder here. I ended up simply eating dinner and then retreating to a lower-elevation hollow to set up camp. (Dinner was a bratwurst I had cooked the night before and frozen, plus a mustard packet and some potato chips.)
View from the dinner spot
My eyes were closing of their own accord by 7. This was a bit of a surprise, since I've often been staying up till midnight lately. I set up the tent, minus the fly, since it wasn't supposed to rain. Then I crawled into bed and looked up at the blue sky.
And then I couldn't sleep. I usually have a hard time sleeping the first night of a backpacking trip; the woods seem newly spooky and filled with strange sounds. And surely a bear will come and eat me any minute. I read my book for a while; I am reading All Fishermen Are Liars by Linda Greenlaw and it's pretty gripping. Finally, sometime around midnight, I rolled on my back and looked up at the sky. The clouds had parted and I could see a swath of beautiful stars. I stuck my camera out of the tent door and took a picture of them.
Stars, with cloud, trees, rock, and tent pole
After midnight I finally I fell asleep. It felt very cold (part of this was my fault for not putting the tent fly on) and I kept waking, too cold to sleep. I woke for the last time around 6. I wanted to get a move on so I could finish the loop without dealing with midday mountain bikers on the trail.
Fresh hoofprints on the trail
I got some better views as I hiked on. Here is an unknown mountain, with what I presume is the snow-draped bulk of Pike's Peak in the distance.
I didn't encounter much wildlife, just a deer, some interesting birds, and the gobble of a turkey off in the woods. By 10 o'clock, the trail was becoming busy with mountain bikers and some hikers too. Since I was now on the far side of the mountain, the hike was blissfully free of gunfire. After turning onto the Colorado Trail, I did find a flowing stream, and up the hill from it, a cool campsite with a cave that held a massive fire ring.
Not long after that, I passed a beautiful beetle on the trail.
I wanted to take more pictures of this bug, but a mountain biker came barreling down the trail and I had to step back. As I watched, he ran right over the bug, crushing it.
I was somewhat distraught at this, but now, looking at the photograph, I can see it was already dead, which is a relief.
In any case, I "found" another one later when it landed on my boob. I tried to take a photo, but it fell off. I saw it again later, climbing on a plant.
Which way to go?
I bent the plant to try to take a better photo, and the beetle crawled onto my hand.
I have since looked this up, and have found that it has the wonderful name of "pleasing fungus beetle."
I was nearing the end of my loop, but I didn't want it to be over so I set up my hammock by a little stream in a grove of aspen and read my book for a while, shoving food into my face. The aspen here were just starting to get their leaves.
Golden banner in bloom
A dead tree's bark flakes off, revealing tracks left by pests
I hit the trail again at about noon. Now it was much busier, and I had to step off the trail every couple minutes for mountain bikers to pass.
The air was cool, but the sun was hot and as the clouds passed I moved between being overheated and being chilly.
Many peaks in the distance still bore snow
I finished around one o'clock, to the sound of gunfire. Would I recommend this as a backpacking trip? Probably not. However, it's better than not backpacking at all, and if you're looking for activities close to Denver, the gently rolling trail and pleasing pine woods (and fungus beetles) make this a low-key candidate for a brief adventure.