• Location: Comanche Peak Wilderness, Roosevelt National Forest
• Access: From Ted’s Place on Hwy 287, head west on State Hwy 14 25.7 miles. Turn south onto CR63E, the Pingree Park Road, and continue south 16.2 miles, and turn right (west) onto Crown Point Road. Head west for 12 miles to the Browns Lake TH. Park, or continue down the rough 4-wheel drive FR142 another 2 miles to the TH on the west side of the road. 
• Browns Lake Trailhead: UTM NAD83 zone13 440924e 4500118n (can drive 4-wheel drive road to Zimmerman TH some of the time)
• Zimmerman Trailhead: UTM NAD83 zone 13 438760e 4501272n
• Trail: The trail from FR 142 to the junction with Sheep Creek Reservoir is easy to find and walk. The Zimmerman Trail segment heading north from the trail junction near Sheep Creek Reservoir is not maintained, hard to find and extremely choked with downed timber. It no longer has public access at the river. There is no trail to Peak 9980. The route described, from Browns Lake TH to Peak 9980, is 10.7 miles RT, with 1,150’ total elevation gain. 
• Maps: USGS 7.5’ quad: Kinikinik
• Fees: None

The road leads downhill at a gentle grade through a thick lodgepole pine/ subalpine fir forest. Henry bounds ahead and I whistle him back. The problem is that he only seems to have two speeds: full stop and full gallop. The air is cool, but there is no wind at all in the trees. The orange fall sunlight lances in from the side, even at 9:30, making it feel like that wonderful time just after sunrise. In 2 miles we are at the Zimmerman TH, marked by a barely-legible trail sign, and a much larger green sign discussing Greenback Cutthroat trout in Sheep Creek, though it has recently been confirmed that all those decades of stocking the Greenback Cutthroat trout had actually been spent stocking Colorado Cutthroat Trout, with the real Greenback Cutthroat hanging perilously close to extinction in a single stream outside of Colorado Springs all that time. I stow my hat and gloves and we move on.

The trail drops sharply downhill through thick lodgepole pine. Judging by the softness of the soil on the trail, it doesn’t get much traffic. We reach a meadow of tall golden grass, then dip back into the trees for a short time before another meadow that must be crossed. The water is shallow in the rushes and reeds, but it’s a good thing I have my boots on because sneakers would get wet here. On the west side of the meadow, the trail picks up again and we head south the appointed trail branch. 

Just before we cross the creek a second time, we find the trail intersection sign where Zimmerman Trail meets the Sheep Creek cutoff, only there doesn’t appear to be an intersection. We study the map for some time, and even walk downhill a bit to the stream crossing to see if there’s any sign of a trail closer to the water. There’s a large aspen grove near the creek crossing, and though the leaves have mostly fallen, the sweet smell of yellow aspen leaves fill the air; the quintessential fall mountain fragrance. I am sure that until my dying day, the smell of senescing aspen leaves will remind me of cool, frosty mornings along the Poudre. We finally conclude that we should head due north from this spot. So we do. GPS time. There’s no sign of a path at all, but there is a clearing that suggests a route heading uphill. 

Now I’ll skip ahead a bit and reveal that this is in fact the Zimmerman Trail, but it is so little-used it has all but disappeared in places, and one of those places is, inconveniently, right at the beginning. You head uphill for 50 meters, and then you must take an abrupt 90-degree left turn to stay on the “trail”.  On our return trip, Griff and I found a private property warning sign (warning that river access is blocked from here by private property) laying face down in the brush, and leaned it up against a tree, as well as placing several small logs in the shape of an arrow to point the way. However, none of those signs was visible on our way up, and we blew right past it. 

We continue on up the slope, and it is apparent that we are on no kind of trail at all. The terrain is benign, however, so this is no problem. We head generally north, and enjoy the forest sounds and fresh air. It’s very pleasant going. Henry seems pretty pleased, too. Later I learn that we are basically paralleling the Zimmerman Trail about 500 feet to the east. After 3/4 mile, we intersect the trail, and follow it north. For about ½ mile it is easy going, and very obvious, except for one segment where it crosses a grassy meadow and is not easy to pick up on the far side. Shortly after the meadow, the trail enters a very heavily-timbered area with fallen lodgepole pines laying around like pick-up sticks, and the trail is encumbered with its fair share of obstacles. Sometimes only one or two logs block the way and I can climb over, but often there are 10 or 20 logs blocking the trail and a detour must be found. Our progress slows significantly, but we head on, generally downhill now. We reach another small meadow and break away from the trail to the west, crossing the meadow, and then making our way northwest to Peak 9980. 

The section from the meadow to the summit of Peak 9980 is just ridiculously choked with downed trees. It’s a good thing Henry is a young dog because any dog with hip problems would be toast here. While I use both hands to climb over and under piles of logs, Henry jumps up and over trunks with surprising agility. We head uphill, trying to pilot the easiest route to avoid larger patches of logs, and finally, at around noon, we reach the unimpressive summit. Looking at a map, it appears that you will be able to see a fair chunk of the Poudre Canyon and surrounding terrain from this high point, and that would certainly be true if not for the intensely thick forest that blocks all but a hint of the surrounding terrain. 

Hoping for better views, we head west to a small bump on the same peak, but it has no better offering than the first. We sit next to the highest point there, amidst thick conifers, and have lunch. I notice Henry licking his paws and regret that I have not brought his little boots. His paws are tender, no doubt due to his urbanized lifestyle, and the pads have broken open in places. I wrap his front pads with gauze and tape, a solution that lasts less than 2 miles. 

We backtrack down the mountain, and return to the Zimmerman Trail at the meadow. The original plan was to hike on down the trail to the Poudre Canyon –well, almost to the river; there is no public access there now—but the condition of the trail, specifically the riot of downed logs clogging the trail, convince us it might be more enjoyable to simply head back. It is too bad the trail is no longer accessible from the canyon, and no longer maintained. John Zimmerman built and maintained the Keystone Hotel along the river near Kinikinik from 1896 to 1946, and I suspect this trail once began near that structure. It’s interesting to consider that at three stories tall and 40 rooms, the Keystone Hotel was larger than any building in the Poudre Canyon today. Mary Hagen published a Poudre Canyon hiking guide in 1994 that still described legal access to the trail via the canyon, so it’s not been very long that this trail has been cutoff. It would be nice to see it opened up again, as there are not that many trails in this part of the Poudre Canyon, the closest being Roaring Creek about 3 miles up-canyon, and Dadd Gulch about 10 miles down-canyon. 

We hike on back, following the Zimmerman Trail closely this time, despite the natural obstacles. The last mile or so before the intersection with the Sheep Creek cutoff is well-marked with trail blazes cut into large pines, but many of those pines are dead and falling over so this trail won’t be marked for long unless some work is done on it. Having missed the trail on the way up, Griff and I are both very interested to find out where it meets the main trail, and are surprised and amused to find how narrowly we missed it on our way up. We spend a few minutes propping up the sign and arranging small logs as an arrow to point the turn, and then we’re heading uphill towards the road above. 

Hiking in the Poudre drainage on a calm, warm fall day is almost the most pleasant experience I know of. The sky is absolute blue, the sun is orange and warm and the air is calm as a whisper. I’m in no hurry to get back to the car, and we stop often to sip water and snack on jerky and nuts. Henry is unfortunately pretty unhappy about his paws, and takes every stop as an opportunity to lick the dirt and pine duff out of the raw spots. We return to the car at 4:00, with the temperature at this 10,400-foot parking area sitting at a lofty 66 degrees, quite possibly the last time it will be this warm at this spot until next May.