Higher Grounds Coffee & Tea has been on the main drag in Woodland Park long enough that newcomers sometimes assume it has always been there, which, in a mountain town that loses businesses to winter and altitude with some regularity, is its own kind of achievement.
The owner, a soft-spoken guy named Mark who moved up from Colorado Springs about fifteen years ago, has the particular energy of someone who got into the coffee business because he actually likes coffee, not because he wanted to build a brand. The shop reflects this. There are no Instagram-optimized chalkboard murals, no single-origin tasting menus written in a font that requires squinting. There is a counter, a well-maintained espresso machine, a rotating selection of beans sourced mostly from small regional roasters, and a back wall of loose-leaf teas that Mark will happily walk you through if you give him an opening.
Most regulars don’t need the walk-through anymore. On a weekday morning, the place settles into a rhythm that feels less like a coffee shop and more like a very quiet public living room. A woman at the corner table with a laptop who’s been there since eight. Two contractors in work boots splitting a breakfast pastry. A retired couple who appear to have no particular agenda. Mark behind the counter, keeping things moving without making a production of it.
The espresso is good — properly extracted, not over-roasted to mask mediocre beans, which is a low bar that a surprising number of mountain-town cafes still manage to miss. The pour-overs take a few minutes and are worth it. If you’re in a hurry, the drip coffee is fresh and competent. The pastries come from a local baker and change based on what she feels like making, which means on some days there’s a legitimately excellent cardamom scone and on other days there are blondies. Both outcomes are acceptable.
Prices are reasonable by any standard — a medium latte runs around four dollars and change, which in 2024 feels almost quaint. Mark doesn’t seem interested in charging resort-town prices just because Woodland Park sits at 8,465 feet and tourists occasionally roll through looking for an experience. He seems more interested in the contractors being able to afford a second cup.
The space itself is small — maybe eight tables — and fills up on weekend mornings when the hiking crowd comes through before heading toward Rampart or Mueller. Parking on Midland Avenue can get tight around nine on a Saturday, so arriving early or slightly late solves most problems. The shop is open daily, closing in the early afternoon, which is either refreshing or inconvenient depending on what you were hoping to do with your post-lunch hour.
What makes Higher Grounds worth mentioning, beyond the practical quality of the coffee, is that it operates like a business run by someone who has thought carefully about what he actually wants to do every day. That sounds obvious. It isn’t. Spend enough time in mountain towns and you start to notice the difference between places that are performing the idea of a local café and places that simply are one. Higher Grounds is the latter. Mark probably wouldn’t say it that way. He’d probably just offer to top off your cup.
