The beautiful Butte

Why is it we can't seem to get away from Central Oregon? I mean we have the ultimate tow vehicle (in case you missed it Best in Class 800 FtLbs of Torque and 400 HP), a 5th Wheel RV that has all the options one could want, and enough money to buy all the fuel we'll ever need. Two days ago we finally hooked up both halves of the equation and pulled out of the dealership heading for our son Allen's home in McMinnville. The Ford 250 was a dream to drive. It was almost as though our 18,000 pound travel home did not exist. Needless to say, Jill was puckered from head to toe with images of disaster dancing in her head... however, to her credit, after a very few miles she relaxed a bit, her eyes quit twitching, and she was able to stop the bleeding from where her nails had dug into her palms.

Mt. Jefferson

It was an absolutely beautiful fall day. The Cascades stood out boldly against a perfect sky, their snow caps sparkling like jeweled crowns... it was so fantastic that after less than 20 miles we looked at each other and said "Let's stay and climb Black Butte tomorrow!" So we pulled into a KOA outside of Sisters, parked "The Villa" for the first time flawlessly, and called friends for dinner.

We have lived for the past two decades in the shadow, or at least within view of, a 6,000 ft. cinder cone called Black Butte. We had never climbed it during all those years although we talked about it frequently. So the next morning, after taking care of business in Singapore, Doha, Moscow, and Manila, we loaded our hiking packs and headed for the trailhead.

Black Butte Ranch far below

The launch point is about halfway up the mountain. The path is well defined but the 2,500 ft. elevation gain over a 2-hour period means the path is steep... by steep I mean there is no place where it levels out during the entire climb. The views along the climb are incredible and once on top they are stunning.

We spent about a half hour examining the fire service lookout tower and the 360 degree view. Black Butte Ranch, where just two days before we played our last round of golf with our friend Peter Storton, spread out to the south. Camp Sherman, where we lived for several years, lay to the west with the incredible Cascades visible from the Washington/Oregon border to Mt. Shasta in California. Awesome doesn't begin to describe it. Then came the hard part...

Old knees scraping bone on bone and lack of youthful balance make steep downhills painful and at times excruciating. Nevertheless we made it and felt proud that we had at last achieved a long desired goal.


After a couple of quarts of Gatorade, a few ibuprofen, and a foot massage, we went fishing in a nearby pond for some catch and release trout... life is good! 

One of about six we caught in 30 minutes