Getting to the top gets in the blood.

Or are people born that way? Is there a genetic predisposition toward standing on the high spot, placing another rock on the cairn? Is the urge to climb peaks nature or nurture?

Got me. It’s one of those fathomless conundrums good for a lifetime of contemplation, or at least as long as it takes to get from the trailhead to the top of the mountain, hill, butte, bluff or mesa.

Normally, I wouldn’t be grappling with the Big Questions while marching uphill at elevation. Normally, random, nature-triggered thoughts come a-wafting, fueled by the topography and the landscape.

It’s just that these two guys I enjoy hiking with from time to time are in their 70s and rarely miss an opportunity to get out and go up. I know, being a septuagenarian ain’t what it used to be. But blasting up the sides of mountains (or hills or buttes …) ain’t mall walking or bowling either.

They’ll tell you it’s a social thing and that it keeps them in shape. So would golf and tennis. And there are plenty of duffers who have zero interest in slogging to the top.

The question remains.

The trail to the summit of Black Butte isn’t that long or particularly excruciating. It’s steep in places and exposed to the wind toward the top.

The day we set out back in 2001, Bob Mahoney turned 77 and he made for the 6,436-foot-high summit like a man possessed.

He was also talking about World War II, not in the abstract, but about his very own recollections. Back a way along the trail, Bob Speik, who turned 73 that week, maintained a more leisurely pace with new friends Charles and Linnea Saverude. He was saving his strength for an assault on South Sister over the weekend.

That group paused periodically to admire the panorama. They broke out of the old-growth ponderosa pines, about a mile up the trail, into a more open landscape of manzanita, snowbrush, bitter cherry and fir. The view of Three-Fingered Jack, Mount Jefferson, Mount Washington and the Three Sisters from this perspective is worthy of a lingering break or two.

But there was a front coming in; the wispy clouds of morning gave way to bulky, gray dirigibles and the wind had a bite.

We came together at the top, chatted with a couple of youngsters from Portland, another group from the Midwest, and hunkered down out of the gale in the lee of one of several structures up here.

Nearby is a cabin being used by Suzi and Don ‘Wolfie’ Wolfe, who had spent the last couple of summers atop Black Butte. They also put in 14 years at a drive-up lookout in the Siskiyou National Forest. There, they had few visitors and an ample supply of water, said Suzi Wolfe. Here, they relied on water jugs brought in by helicopter.

And on warm weather weekends, there’s pretty much a steady stream of people hiking up to see what they can see.

“There’s nothing like this panorama,” said Suzi Wolfe. “It’s gorgeous. Mountain conditions are always changing. You’ve always got a different view.”

The Wolfes conducted their daily Forest Service business scanning the horizon for smoke and poring over maps of the area finding “the shortest distance from here to there” so they’ll be ready when fire breaks out. Not far away, a rickety-looking 85-foot tower, built in 1934 by the Civilian Conservation Corps, stands unused. It was deemed unsafe by the Forest Service and should not be climbed.

There was also a cupola lookout building, erected in 1924, still standing atop the butte.

They’re worth a look.

The Wolfes’ cabin and the lookout are off-limits to the general public. The Forest Service asks that hikers respect their privacy.

Meanwhile, our little party enjoyed life at the top long enough to scarf down a birthday lunch for the two Bobs, then headed back the way it came, this time the gusts whipping ragged shreds of vapor across the ridge top.

Although he knew it wasn’t in the cards, Speik wanted to stay and see what came of all this commotion. Mahoney was high-stepping it for the barn.

And that day, I was leaning toward nature.

From Sisters, drive just more than five miles west on U.S. Highway 20 to Indian Ford Campground. Turn right at the junction and continue on the paved Green Ridge Road 11 for about four miles. Turn left onto Forest Road 1110 at a sign for the Black Butte Trailhead. The parking area and trailhead is five miles ahead.

— Jim Witty