This post features excessive use of the word “Beaver”. If you are a 12 year old boy at heart, get your giggles out now. Beaver. Beaver. Beaver.
Breckenridge, Colorado is home to Cucumber Gulch Wildlife Preserve. While camping in the area, I decided to take a hike in the preserve just to kill a couple of hours. But after passing ski lifts and a little creek, I turned a corner and found the most perfect wetland I’ve ever seen. I knew I’d be there a little longer. This wetland was so picturesque, it looked like the scene from a Disney movie. It wasn’t the type of wetland that non-wetland folks would look at with confusion. I’ve definitely been in that situation before. This was unmistakingly a wetland. And, what is more interesting, is that it was a fen. These aren’t as common the more west you go, and especially less common at such high altitude. So I felt like I hit the actual ecosystem nerd jackpot.
I turned one more corner and gasped, plopped my sleeping-pad-turned-sitting-pad onto the ground to settle in for a long wait. Because in the middle of the pond was a pile of sticks, grass, and mud: A perfect beaver lodge. Beavers are incredibly shy and more active at night, so I knew it would be unlikely to actually see one, but I also had the optimism to think if I sat long enough, I might spot something. So I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
For three hours. A few other hikers passed, asking what I was looking at. I explained it was a beaver lodge. After they realized they couldn’t see any actual beavers, they lost interest and hiked off. Which is a shame, because only a few minutes later, standing in the vegetation along the edge of the pond, was an adult beaver. Awkward and clumsy on land, they are vulnerable to predators. But they are the exact opposite once in the water. The beaver slid into the water silently and swam effortlessly and quickly to the lodge. It stood on a small patch of twigs and mud - a patio of sorts it seemed - to smooth its fur and take a look around before diving under the entrance and disappearing.
Shortly after, two smaller beavers appeared on the same little patio. These were definitely juveniles, and were in a playful mood. They splashed with their hands and took turns sliding into the water, swimming in a little circle, and then getting back out while their sibling (friend?) kept watch. A few more laps and the two disappeared into the lodge as well. No doubt to go annoy the adults with their energy.
After four hours into a MAYBE 3 mile hike, I decided to head back out. Past a chattering squirrel, alarming the entire forest to my presence. Past several brave birds that seemed unbothered by my existence. Past a watchful and curious deer that followed tentatively as I made my way to the trail head.
Cucumber Gulch Wildlife Refuge is a small piece of nature surrounded on all sides by housing, resorts, and fragmentation. This situation is not unique to Cucumber Gulch. Development and progress are creating countless areas just like this; small islands of nature cutoff from the rest of the natural world by an ocean of asphalt and buildings. Visiting these areas reminds me how lucky we are to have even this small wetland, as heavily managed as it must be to keep it this way, and how much we need to fight for the rest of our wild areas.
