Cinco (or is that Sink-o) de Mayo?
It was May 5th and even after some intense summer-like weather that blanketed the entire New England region, the remnants of a harsh winter remained behind.
A colleague -- who for the purposes of this article has decided he should be called Thor, that manly Viking name -- agreed to accompany me on a hike up the Davis Path.
The Davis Path is rich in history, one of the oldest trails in the White Mountains. It is named for Nathaniel P.T. Davis, who cut the trail, completing it in 1845. It was the third and longest path carved out to take hikers to Mt. Washington.
We were going to take it to Mt. Isolation, one of the smallest of the 4Ks at 4004 feet -- but one of the toughest because it is, as its name suggests, one of the more remote peaks. We planned on trying to reach one of the shelters by nightfall, then summiting the following day before returning to the valley.
I was looking forward to a hike free of the usual winter worries: snow, cold, threats of hypothermia. I was salivating for the start of summer, and in lower elevations, spring was in the air and summer was right around the corner. But in the White Mountains, the seasons have their own peculiar time schedule.
We parked in a large dirt lot off of Route 302 along the banks of a wide river. We got geared up and walked down a dirt road that runs parallel to the river, just a few hundred yards until the trailhead. It starts with at a beautiful suspension bridge, making an impassable river crossing a nice little jaunt.
Thor first stopped to check out some children’s toys before venturing onto the bridge. After crossing the span, we passed two private homes and then entered the woods for good.
There are two brook crossings almost immediately. There’d been considerable snow melt, making brooks that are normally dry now several inches deep and flowing fast. Still, they were more than manageable.
It didn’t take long before we reached the White Mountain National Forest Wilderness Area marker and the trail began to climb in earnest.
There were a few patches of snow on the trail but we had no trouble maneuvering around them.
Soon, we reached a small lookout to the left and passed a young couple coming down who said they’d been to the top of the trail.
“Isolation?” I asked, for a moment marveling at their stamina in pulling off such a long jaunt.
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