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Mountain Hikingby Harold Sears
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Marshall Mesa — Wilderness On Our Doorstep
As I climbed, I felt oddly displaced. On the one hand, I could look back and see urban Boulder right there over my shoulder, but in front of me were snowy slopes and cold winds, unbroken in their rush. Our storms and blizzards only interfered below — up here, the same snow had painted the landscape and sculpted dazzling shapes. The land is wide and mostly treeless, much as the early prospectors and miners must have found it 150 years ago. If you’re not dressed, the area will feel forbidding and bleak. You might think of Canadian tundra or Siberian steppes. “Was that the howl of a wolf over on that next ridgeline?” But if you’re wrapped up, that same wind is invigorating, bracing, and beautiful. For me, the snowy land was bright under a blue sky. The wind rushed out its winter music. Buff grasses poked up through several inches of snow, and the stalks tossed and vibrated in the wind. Yucca spears thrust upwards and threw sharp shadows onto the white surface. One trail follows the edge of the Community Ditch. The ice was ragged and buckled with freeze, thaw, and the rise and fall of water levels. Jagged shelves protruded from the banks. Gurgling sounds reached up from deep below. In one place, pressures had forced a flow through the surface and onto the ice, carving new shapes.
A bridge took me over the ditch and higher onto the mesa. Here the wind lifted puffs of dry snow into little “dust devil” formations. Extended gusts created entire layers of fuzzy, cottony haze, softening the contours of the land. Above, puffs of white cloud were scattered here and there across the blue. On top, there is a good view across Marshall Lake to the east. Swirls of snow swept across its frozen surface. There were isolated pines scattered across one slope — a small cluster down in a bit of a hollow. Their branches were thrashing about, reveling in the excitement of the day. To the west, Green and Bear Mountains stood tall and proud. Swaths of dark pine and fir alternated with the lighter-colored Flatirons, each with its edges and contours picked out with accumulations of snow. There is a wilderness feel here, but your isolation will only be occasional, especially within the first mile or two of your walk. Even on my cold and blustery day, joggers pounded down the Cowdrey Trail, hikers headed across the Marshall Mesa Trail as I climbed the Community Ditch Trail, a Bald Eagle soared down the Davidson Ditch, and a mountain biker pumped his way slowly up to the Greenbelt Plateau. Beginning in 1859 and for over 80 years, this was the site of coal-mining operations—in all, there were 51 mines, and the Golden, Boulder, and Caribou Railway was built in 1878—so you’ll have some of the spirit of that activity, artifacts, and informative interpretive signs for additional company. Boulder is fortunate to have these oases available, healing places within our frantic workweeks. With no more than an hour or two available, you can feel far away and totally immersed in the sights, sounds, and smells of our natural world.
Originally published in the
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Marshall Mesa lies just south of the Boulder city limits, but it lifts us high above the Boulder valley for a sweeping view of the city, our front range, and even a peek here and there into the sparkling, snowy back range. 
