After Debi Hunter Holen was attacked while walking along the High Line Canal, she returned there for the peace that violence had stolen from her.

A bench with a quote from Hunter Holen — “walk with gratitude, peace returns” — marks the spot where a man beat him with a piece of wood for no reason four years ago. He was sentenced to 25 years in prison.

He now feels safe enough to walk on the road alone. She sees other women carrying sticks, but she doesn’t feel the need to do so. Although he passes the bench where the attack occurred on most of his walks, it doesn’t surprise him that the chance to connect with nature, something he enjoys, calms him down. He wants that peace of mind for residents who live nearby and hopes they find it along the way, too.

He and others connected to the subject High Line Canal Reserve We are working towards this exact goal. He belongs to a committee the conservancy convenes to represent the 28-mile northeast portion of the 71-mile trail and the neighborhoods surrounding it. The area is filled with a variety of families, often with lower incomes, and the conservancy devotes a huge amount of its resources to helping them enjoy it.

“These communities haven’t always been involved,” said Suzanna Fry Jones, director of programs and impact. “We want them to know that this is their mark.”

Conservation has a lot to overcome to help these neighborhoods feel like they own the canal route; including removing barriers for diverse low-income families to enjoy the outdoors. The conservancy also acknowledges that in the past this part of the road was not as well maintained as sections in more affluent areas, such as the section near Littleton. They have already made efforts to change this and will continue to do so.

“Making the channel feel like a welcoming space is a big hurdle for us,” Jones said.

The road runs from southwest to northeast through Douglas, Arapahoe, Denver and Adams counties. It starts in Littleton and ends in Aurora (a digital map here). Conservation staff believe residents of the Denver and Aurora areas face the greatest challenges finding peace on the road.

Jones and Hunter Holen believe that many residents of the Denver and Aurora areas associate this path with country clubs and other elite green spaces, such as golf courses or refreshing swimming pools that require expensive memberships. Some don’t even know it exists, sometimes wandering just half a mile from their home. And some residents don’t feel safe on the road, possibly due to cultural differences or inexperience and discomfort outside.

Hunter Holen does not face some of the challenges that Aurora residents experience. She is white and a former Aurora city councilman, and her husband, Bill Holen, is an Arapahoe County commissioner. He is retired and works part-time as the general manager of the company. Colorado School and Public Employees Retirement Association. But he can relate to fear.

Instead, he chooses to focus on the times when the canal path was there for him. His mother was walking while she had Alzheimer’s disease. He walked to soothe his own PTSD from the attack. He plans to walk the trail again in a continuous journey that could last a week, and he hopes to stay in hotels along the way.

He’s 67 years old, and of course, if he can use that avenue to find some peace, maybe his residents can too, even if their lives don’t welcome it.

Hunter Holen says: “I’m living proof that you can’t just get over it. You can just move on.”

An unfortunate reputation

Not everyone has trouble making ends meet in Aurora. Hunter Holen, who moved to Aurora in 1979 and has loved it ever since, is proof of that. The city has a reputation maybe unfairlyIt’s a rebellious place where gangs roam the corrupt streets. Donald Trump during a rally there on October 11. He described it as a “war zone.” Hunter Holen chooses to laugh at such comments and look on the bright side: At least he didn’t say anything like that Aurora residents were eating their pets.

The only unruly Hunter Holen encountered during his morning walk was a spoiled squirrel chirping about his stash for the coming winter. He doesn’t blame the road for his attack or see it as a bad place. Rather, it helped him look beyond the notoriety of his beloved city: During his walks, he would see, for example, children playing and parents tidying up their backyards without worrying about the safety of their young children.

“As I walked along the canal, I started to gain a different perspective on the neighborhoods in the area,” Hunter Holen said. “When you walk, you experience community. You don’t do that while driving.

That’s the sense of peace that the High Line Conservancy wants to offer other residents in the area, and now it’s in a place where it believes it can do that. It has some say over the canal, especially considering that Denver Water this year transferred part of the title to Arapahoe County, which now owns 45 miles. Denver Water has an extra 20 miles, but that will likely change at some point.

For more than a decade, Denver Water has viewed the canal, built in 1883, as an inefficient, even wasteful way to transfer water, given that 80% of the water evaporates or seeps into the ground. Denver Water hopes to decommission all of it within the next five years, but the northeast portion hasn’t carried water in 20 years.

That inspired the creation of the conservation organization in 2014 because Denver Water is a public utility and “not in the recreation business,” Jones said. The canal will continue to handle stormwater during occasional heavy rains, but it is now really much more of a recreation area.

The conservancy is not a government agency, but it monitors and enforces the conservation easement that protects the canal: This is why the conservancy sees itself as the guardian of various communities’ vision for the canal. The preserve focuses on capital improvements, but also works with cities that set hours and maintain maintenance on their portions of the road.

These capital improvements can be significant. Jones said the conservancy just completed a $33 million capital campaign, and with local government matches that figure could rise to $100 million. More than 60% of this will be allocated to the northeast portion, as conservationists believe residents need it more since other entertainment options are limited for them, and the extra money will help make up for the fact that the northeast doesn’t have one. It was not given the attention it deserved in the past.

“We want to keep the channel diverse and diverse, and nature plays a role in that,” Jones said. “But we are also focused on creating a fair experience. “There has been a historic lack of investment in the northeast.”

The conservation authority spoke to 5,000 residents in the north-east and set up the residents’ committee to determine what improvements they would like to see in 2021. His comments about safety and wanting more shade helped launch a tree care campaign. The preserve has since pruned or removed more than 1,000 trees, mostly thirsty and deteriorated cottonwoods, and planted more than 300 new, more drought-tolerant species. The conservancy hopes to plant 3,500 trees along the canal over the next 15 years.

“This is their trail,” Jones said. “We want improvements that feel authentic and reflect an understanding of the issues they raise and why they don’t use them.”

An important resource

Vanessa Salinas, 70, joined Hunter Holen on the march. He also serves on the northeast committee and calls the trail one of his passions.

“I love fall,” Salinas said when the two came across a particularly colorful tree.

The trail allows one to see the wonder of fall and all it has to offer without having to get out on Interstate 70 and “leaf-peeping.” Salinas could do this if he wanted, but it’s doubtful that some of the area’s trail users would have that luxury. This example shows how important a long path surrounded by nature can be for an urban area full of residents with limited transportation.

The fact that the canal has 860 acres of open space and 71 miles of trails already constructed makes it unique, Jones said, especially as green spaces are rapidly disappearing from the Denver metro area.

Jones said 350,000 people live within a half-mile of the canal and there are 500,000 annual users. In the 28-mile northeastern section, 150,000 people live within a half mile.

“This already exists as a trail through an urban area,” Jones said. “It is impossible to underestimate the importance of preserving open space like this.”

Salinas says he’s cautious in urban areas as a result of going through turbulent times. But he is not afraid of that road. He moved to Aurora 35 years ago and lived there at a time when people called it “Saudi Aurora” because it looked empty as a desert. When his friends came to visit, they teased him about living in rural Kansas.

She moved and spent time running political campaigns in Alaska and Washington, DC, before spending the last eight years of her career as a hospice worker and educator. He returned to Aurora in 2021.

While in Alaska, another place full of special outdoor places, she learned of a trail near where she lived and visited it often, especially during the pandemic, which has been difficult for healthcare workers and, as a result, healthcare workers. also in hospice.

“That trail in Alaska helped me regain my sanity,” Salinas said.

Once residents realized what a simple walk on an easy trail in the urban forest could do for them, they began to embrace it, Salinas said. He and Hunter Holen said hello to a man passing by during their walk. They recognized him: He walks on the path twice a day.

“It’s a nice day, isn’t it?” he asked and they agreed.