McClellan Butte

McClellan Butte, with its distinctive horn-like summit, caught our eye during a hike to Mason Lake a few months ago. It looks imposing, but at 10.6 miles and around 3,750 feet of elevation gain, we thought it would be similar to other challenging hikes we had done, such as Mailbox Peak Loop (8.5 miles and 4,000 feet of gain).

We set out on a partly cloudy day in early September. It wasn’t the ideal day for clear vistas, but the forecast predicted storms for the mountains in the coming days. The trail up to the peak has a series of avalanche chutes, so it’s safer to climb it before winter weather arrives.

This rooty gentleman greeted us early in the journey. Jeff dubbed him Ye Olde Dragone of the Butte. I could easily imagine a children’s book that begins with him blinking, stretching, and emerging out of his mossy slumber to take the plucky protagonists on a journey to secret fantasy realm.

The trail has a few secrets of its own. It starts off easy as it winds its way around the peak with the rocky horn looming above. The first few miles are causal, a nice stroll along a well-maintained trail where a few wildflowers still bloomed. We even had a few wildlife sightings along the way.

This little squirrel did his best to hide on the opposite side of the tree, and a woodpecker was hard at work above us. Unfortunately, we didn’t see any pikas in the boulder fields, but we did hear their magical “eeps” ringing out across the rocks. The pika call is a way to warn other pikas of predators as well as a way of establishing their territories.

The day started out warm, but there were clouds on the horizon. In July 2018, we hiked Granite Lake without packing warm clothes. Halfway through the hike, the weather turned wet and freezing. It was a miserable journey back to the car. My fingers were so cold, I couldn’t work the zipper on my hoodie. Lesson learned: now we always pack the Ten Essentials, even on day hikes like this.

Since the first half of the hike is such a gradual climb, we had to ascend approximately 3000 feet over the last two miles. That much gain over such a short distance made this very challenging. Harder than Mailbox Peak, at least for me. Around 3.5 miles, I stopped thinking about dragons or pikas or the taxonomical weirdness of fungi. I wasn’t thinking about much but getting to the top.

With certain company, I’m a chatterbox. Jeff tends to be more reserved. But in the midst of extra-hard physical challenges, our roles reverse. Jeff gets chatty, and I zone out. In the steepest sections, Jeff tried to make us feel better with different calculations of elevation, distance, and duration. If suffering could be mitigated by math, Jeff was going to find a way to do it.

At the top, it was blustery and cold. We skipped the exposed scramble to the true summit and added all our layers before settling in to eat our well-deserved trail mix and cheese sticks. Clouds obscured the top of Rainier, but we had nice views, including the jagged Duke and Duchess of Kent. It was a long and somewhat painful hike back down, but the equation was simple: Great hiking partner plus challenging trail equals time well spent. Happy autumn!