Maxwell Butte is a rigorous hike

When friends asked if I wanted to hike up Maxwell Butte, I said, "Sure!" Then I asked, "Where's that?" It turns out that Maxwell Butte is just a couple of miles northwest of the Santiam "Y" on Highway 22. Having hiked it now, I know why it's been overlooked on most lists of local favorites.

From the trailhead, it's 4.8 miles and 2,500 vertical feet to the summit of Maxwell Butte. For the first four miles, it's relentlessly uphill. And then it gets

steep.

Officials from the Willamette National Forest are uncertain of the origin of the butte's name, but believe it may have been named for Marmaduke Maxwell from Shaniko who, in 1901, operated Maxwell Sheep Camp in this part of the Cascades.

The hike takes off uphill from Maxwell Sno-Park in a dense Westside forest that provides plenty of shade, but not much in the way of views. Lodgepole pine, Pacific silver fir, and hemlock predominate. There are some great old growth trees in this forest, and this uphill trail is maintained in excellent condition.

After 2.3 miles of uphill trail, we arrived at a well-marked junction. To the left is the Eight Lakes Basin; the fork to the right leads uphill to the summit of Maxwell Butte.

Shortly after the trail fork, the uphill slope moderates a bit; and the trail passes Twin Lakes, which are really little more than shallow ponds. Maxwell Butte itself is visible from the shore of the first "lake." After passing the lakes, the trail resumes its uphill climb; and, less than two miles later, reaches the base of Maxwell Butte.

The last 0.8 mile to the summit is considerably steeper. I'm not exactly the world's fastest hiker, and I was left in the dust when my companions bounded on up the trail like adolescent puppies.

As the elevation nears 6,000 feet, the ecosystem becomes considerably more alpine in appearance, with sub-alpine fir and steep, picturesque meadows coming into view. Sweeping vistas appear all along this uphill stretch.

The summit of Maxwell Butte was once the site of an old fire lookout built by the Civilian Conservation Corps, but only a few remnants remain. Reaching the summit was a welcome relief. Did I mention that the trail is uphill? Really, though, it was worth it. The view of Three Fingered Jack from the summit is nothing short of spectacular.

I've hiked all around, and even climbed, Three Fingered Jack; but I'd never seen this particular view. The western aspect from Maxwell Butte lends a completely different and even more majestic look to this craggy old volcanic plug that we take for granted as a part of our skyline.

Mt. Jefferson also stands out from this vantage point, with Mt. Hood farther to the north. To the south, the Three Sisters are a bit distant, but Hoodoo Mountain Resort and the highway leading up to Santiam Pass make an interesting study. The old railroad grade around Hogg Rock is clearly visible, and it's only from such high vantage points that the concave top of Hogg Rock can be discerned.

Remote lakes are visible all through the forest below - at least eight of them, I guess, since it's called the Eight Lakes Basin. What is really impressive, though, is the expansive view of 2003's B & B fire. It's easy to forget that many of the nearly 100,000 acres burned in that conflagration are on the west side. The toll on the forest is staggering, and few spots have better views of the extent of the devastation.

On the hike out - which, incidentally, went much more quickly - we encountered a large family group of hikers representing at least three generations. They were packing in to one of the many lakes, with the assistance of nine llamas. This region presents a wide variety of recreational opportunities.

The Maxwell Sno-Park is just 2.5 miles west of the Santiam "Y" on the right side of Highway 22. Continue through the paved parking lot to a gravel road in the back right corner; the trailhead is a few hundred yards farther, on the left. There was no fee station, but free wilderness permits are required. This route would also be a superb conditioning trail for hardcore athletic training. Oh, and in case I forgot to mention this: it's uphill.