In the Sacramento Valley of California, just northwestwest of Yuba City, a small isolated range of conically shaped mountains jets up from the valley floor. At one time it was thought to be an extension of the Cascades to the north, but no--it is connected to no other range. Some say it doesn't qualify as a range; others tout it as the "smallest mountain range in the world." Regardless, the Sutter Buttes is a phenomenon of about 10 lava-formed peaks covered with rocks and crags, grassy rangeland, and oak woodland. Much of it is privately owned, with generations of families grazing sheep and cattle, keeping development at bay, and maintaining stewardship of its timeless natural beauty.
The Middle Mountain Foundation, a non-profit organization dedicated to preserving the Sutter Buttes, owns part of the land and negotiates easements with the private owners.
California State Parks also owns a piece of the northern Buttes, but access to the Buttes by the public is limited. Thousands of years ago, the ancient Maidu tribe revered the "Middle Mountain" as a mecca of spirituality. Much of that spirituality and the extremely rich cultural history still remains unscathed.
For a modest fee, the Middle Mountain Foundation leads
guided hikes for the public to learn about and experience the Sutter Buttes, because special permission is required to access the range through its moat of private lands. The landowners also maintain relationships with researchers--biologists who study the incredible diversity of plant and animal life that have for centuries made the Sutter Buttes home. One such researcher from Sacramento City College, who for years has passionately studied bats, ringtails, and other wildlife with his students, led a guided hike for a group of Wildlife Society members, a group I was very fortunate to be a part of. The tallest peak in the Buttes is just over 2,000 feet, and we set out early one morning in February from the cattle pond to climb about 1,000 of those steep feet. What we saw and learned from our guide was absolutely amazing.
Our first stop was a look at the small bat houses erected high on thin poles used by a wide variety of bat species that occupy the range. I worried no more about not being able to keep up with the hikers as we stopped every 10 or so minutes to hear fascinating stories about the bat and ringtail research; to learn about the variety of oaks and other flora; to see hawks, falcons, eagles, and songbirds; to find and study the sign and scat of ringtail, skunk, and other carnivores; and to witness the evidence of a very clever spider who spun sacks to haul loads of dirt out of its little hole in the ground. We even got a glimpse of feral swine and introduced baron sheep, including the white Judas sheep that always stands out and gives
away the location of the herd.
The history we saw was also incredibly fascinating. We saw and walked along historic rock walls that once partitioned the pastures, thought to be constructed by Chinese laborers for the early settlers; though there are some that believe the
relic walls are an ancient mystery from years before even the first native settlers. Then we passed a series of bedrock milling stones used by the Maidu maybe 10,000 years ago. After much heavy breathing, I caught up with the group at the top of the peak, to have our lunch overlooking the valley. The descent down the other side took us to one of the earliest built barns still held together by those huge square nails of the past, where we were greeted by a few barn cats patrolling the area for rodents and birds. Our guide then treated us to some chocolate cake, then led us back out of the Buttes to the hustle and bustle of the much less spiritual valley floor.
 |
| The Maidu's "Spiritual Mountain" |
