Courtesy of Denver Botanic Gardens. © Scott Dressel-Martin

Fall. Autumn. The Great De-Leafing. No matter what you call it, harvest season is upon us, and with it comes an array of corn-themed activities for the discerning Denver pleasure seeker. From Denver Botanic Gardens’ annual corn maze to the Denver Center for the Performing Arts’ upcoming production of Shucked, Denverites have more ways than ever to celebrate America’s number one feed grain. So it was with maize on the brain that I headed down to DBG’s corn maze at Chatfield Farms, where public events manager Jamie Heldt schooled me on all things corn and maze. Our following conversation has been condensed and lightly edited for clarity.

Courtesy of Denver Botanic Gardens. © Scott Dressel-Martin

How many people come to the maze in a given year?
Probably around 60,000.

And of those 60,000, about how many come back out of the maze?
Ideally all of them. Everybody eventually solves it. But it does take about an hour for most people to make it all the way through the maze.

In my experience, people generally don’t like getting lost. But people seem to love getting lost in corn. How do you explain that?
I think it’s the destination of it. You don’t have to rush to get anywhere. I think you get frustrated when you’re lost and you have somewhere to be. But if you’re in a corn maze then that’s the destination. You’re already here. You can wander around as long as you please.

I’m not seeing any scarecrows. Are you hiring?
We have some natural scarecrows at Chatfield Farms in the form of wild animals. We often see owls, eagles, and hawks on property. So we’re incorporating that [into this year’s birds of prey theme]. In the design of the corn maze, if you have an aerial view, you’ll find several birds of prey are cut into the pathways of the corn. And then inside the maze, there are four life-size birds of prey that are hidden — cut-outs, not actual birds. We have a vulture, a hawk, an owl, and an eagle. And every Saturday this year, we’ve been partnering with Nature’s Educators, and they are bringing out live birds of prey. So we actually do have live animals on-site on Saturdays.

Speaking of animals: I’m thinking of scientists in white coats sending lab rats through mazes. Is that how Denver Botanic Gardens designs and tests its mazes?
Generally for theme, we come up with that. We like to make it as Colorado-based as possible so that there can be a tie back to our roots here in Colorado. And then we work with a design company that works all over the United States designing mazes. We give them a row count once we’ve planted the corn, and they plug that into their algorithm. So it’s a little more scientific than lab rats. Well, I guess lab rats are pretty scientific.

This is my first year as a community gardener. I didn’t grow corn this year, but I have friends who did, and they talked about trying to get “knee-high by the Fourth of July.” What’s the story behind that phrase?
Essentially, that’s the growing season. If you’re knee-high by the Fourth of July, that means you’re going to have a good crop, and it’s going to be tall. Tall enough for people to get lost in and not be able to just see over the maze.

I’m a little bit taller than you. So if I’m trying to get my corn knee-high, I guess I have to work harder than you.
Yes, that’s true. I guess I don’t have to be a very good farmer.

What’s your stance on crop circles? Are those caused by aliens?
Having watched people try to make it through the maze, I would say that it’s people that are lost in a corn maze that accidentally make their own patterns.

People just go rogue through the corn? Does that happen often?
Oh, very often. Unfortunately. We try to prevent it — our pathways are pretty well-marked and cleared. But especially by the end of the season, we see people who get a little bit lost and maybe go rogue. [Since that creates false paths], the maze is much easier opening weekend than it is closing weekend. So coming early is an advantage.

Hardest question for last. Corn cob holders: frivolous novelty or technological triumph?
I’m going to say frivolous novelty. As a child, the messiness of the butter and the corn was just pure excitement.