Bessie Butte offers quiet run

Published 1:14 am Wednesday, February 12, 2014

A week and a half ago, I took advantage of a no-deadline day and a sunny forecast — in November! — and went for a trail run on one of Deschutes National Forest’s under-appreciated east-side offerings, Swamp Wells Trail.

This hadn’t been my original plan. I’d intended to check out the hiker section of Mrazek Trail, along scenic Tumalo Creek, but the morning dawned oddly foggy. It looked clearer to the east, so I took the path of least resistance and drove to Bessie Butte, where the sun was shining when I arrived.

I parked at the Bessie Butte Trailhead, from which a spur connects to the singletrack Swamp Wells Trail, which runs north to Horse Butte and south all the way to Newberry Crater. I planned to run just the three-mile stretch north to and up Horse Butte, then back to Bessie. If I had legs and will for it, I planned to ascend Bessie, too, making for a nice bookend.

After parking at the base of Bessie Butte, and spending too long putting on and removing layers, I took the spur trail about a quarter of a mile east, hung a left on Swamp Wells Trail and took it north to Horse Butte.

As its humble name suggests, Swamp Wells Trail isn’t exactly overburdened with majesty. There are no thundering rivers, not even streams trickling down snow-capped mountains.

Yet the trail makes it up in other ways to those who recreate here: Ponderosas tower over bunch grasses and bitterbrush. Unseen birds trill from their high perches. The air is just as fresh here as it is at more genteel destinations.

Perhaps best of all, you can have the place all to yourself. The only time during my hour and a half here that I saw other person is when I parked on the shoulder of Forest Road 1810 at the Bessie Butte Trailhead. That party was headed up Bessie, while I took off in the opposite direction. After that, I saw no one else until driving home on China Hat Road.

Contrast that with Saturday afternoon, when my daughter Caroline and I walked the three-mile Deschutes River Trail loop at Farewell Bend Park, passing four people we knew or sort of knew in maybe a five-minute span. I’m all for being sociable, but come on.

Running is usually good for one revelation; the one I had during my run between Bessie and Horse buttes is that, despite sometimes being alone, I never feel lonely in the forest.

Then again, how could I, what with my spastic, 4-year-old mutt, Kaloo, darting this way and that, like some kind of flightless swallow in search of his flock. Cool weather only makes him more frisky, though he will stop now and then to hone in on a scent — usually directly in my path on the trail. This usually prompts me to yell “MOVE!” at him like Andre the Giant in “The Princess Bride,” only without his effectiveness.

From the moment I opened the hatchback of my car, he was zipping back and forth across the road, sniffing this and marking that. He moved in and out of my sight lines, briefly obscured by plant life growing in this lightly forested area, around which 600 acres burned in the 18 Fire in 2003.

The prime season for running, hiking and riding in the area is just getting underway. For the next five months, “moon dust” should be at a minimum, and cooler, wetter weather firms the trail up nicely. If you’re on foot, however, be aware of hoof prints, in which you can easily wrench an ankle.

At the top of Horse Butte, I saw how the fog had lifted to the west, affording views of the Cascades, including Mount Jefferson and Mount Hood to the north.

But almost as impressive was the lava rock that lines the trail, which I also photographed. Heading back down, the trail’s steepness will hit you, so go slowly or risk sliding on scree.

Also take care to stay on Swamp Wells Trail, which crosses four unpaved forest roads between Bessie and Horse buttes. It also crosses China Hat Road, of course, so be careful crossing, especially if you have a hyperactive mutt in your party.

Alas, I did not make it up to the top of Bessie Butte. By the time I reached its base, my GPS said I was pushing six miles. I went just high enough to get a photo looking back at Horse Butte peeking above the forest.

Locals, the next section is for visitors and newcomers, so feel free to skip ahead.

If you’re visiting Bend this week and you head east to the trails around Horse and Bessie buttes, let me clue you in on something those outdoor magazines placing Bend in every third “Top-10 best places to (insert outdoor activity here)” list probably won’t mention:

If you go to Bessie Butte, or Horse Butte, or the trails near and around them, you are going to hear percussive sounds. What are they? Let’s play a guessing game.

Is it a drum circle?

Nope. Not a drum circle. Definitely not a drum circle.

Herd of horses or deer?

It could be horses hooves, absolutely. There are many ranches just north of here, and they don’t call it Horse Butte for nothing. Hoof prints are as frequently seen here as mountain bike wheel imprints.

No, the correct answer as to the source of the percussive sound is “gunfire.”

Wait! Yes, I did say “gunfire,” but don’t turn tail for Shevlin Park just yet. That sound is just the reports of shots being fired at nearby Cabin and Coyote buttes, where gun aficionados often practice. True, every once in a while, you’ll spy a pair of gentlemen in camouflage emptying clips at a suspect pine tree. The China Hat Road area is just that way.

Here’s how the fine folks at Central Oregon Trail Alliance sum up the sounds of the Horse Butte area: “If you go, you’re likely to hear lots of gunfire. There are some (quarries) on a couple of the other buttes that are popular with the local militia.”

The sounds may be disconcerting at first, but you get used to it.

This run made me a fan of the area all over again — as well as the simple merits of an out-and-back trip. Don’t get me wrong, loops are great, but if you’ve ever felt disoriented on an out-and-back hike, asking yourself, “Is this the right way back?” you already know how different things can look seeing them all over again from a different perspective.