By Marty Basch

Save for the two bold jays focused on the snacks in our packs, we were alone on the summit of one of the more secluded White Mountain peaks.

On a waning day of summer, we watched as Mount Washington stayed put while going in and out of the clouds. We, alone, scanned the touches of color coming to the vast northern wilderness so close to millions of people just a few hours' drive away. As the sun hit our faces and those jays came boldly close to tiny crumbs on the bare ledge inadvertently created by us as we gleefully munched on yet another mountain-top peanut butter and homemade jelly sandwich, we saw the shadows cast by cloud and sun on the move across the great landscape featuring icons like Boott Spur, Slide Peak, Oakes Gulf and the southern Presidentials.

Though the rewards were most certainly gloriously, the long trek to and from Mount Isolation can be a chore.

Small? Not!

At 4,003 feet, Isolation is, along with Waterville Valley's Mount Tecumseh, the smallest of the 48 4,000-foot peaks on the White Mountain list. Small is relative. Just ask the tiniest player on any NBA team. Little packs some spunk, and Isolation is no exception.

Bare knobbed, secluded Isolation is found well within the Presidential Range-Dry River Wilderness along the great Montalban Ridge extending some 20 miles south from Boott Spur on Mount Washington. Along its western flank stand the southern Presidentials, and from its summit, the mountains are glorious.

As with many remote peaks, there aren't any short treks into Isolation. Easy it's not, but the way isn't terribly strenuous. Day hikers have a few choices. A 12-mile roundtrip along the Glen Boulder Trail and Davis Path can be exhausting with about 5,000 feet in elevation. A 13-plus mile traverse with car spotting can be done incorporating the Glen Boulder and Rocky Branch trails. We opted for what appears to be the most popular way, and one I had done in 1996 with a father and son wrapping up their peak-bagging quest. That was the 14.6-mile out-and-back trip using Rocky Branch Trail, Isolation Trail and Davis Path. Fairly moderate, the passage includes a stiff climb near its onset, which means it's cheerlessly climbed again near trip's end.

Watch Your Step

But that way is also loaded with taxing footwork, long stretches of rock-hopping and puddle-jumping along a stony tightrope. There is mud-sucking mire, unsteady rock and slimy felled timbers to negotiate. It is wet. The hiking is slow; the sounds are of moving water and the tap of hiking poles striking rock.

Add to that multiple crossings of Rocky Branch. The water wasn't devilishly high, but the second crossing, up on a high eroding bank marked by a cairn, can be a bit tricky as the way isn't overtly obvious to the other side. For us, it was a bit of a time and energy suck as we scouted for a route, doing of bit of pointless bushwhacking resulting in nothing more than scratches and more muddied boots before returning to the same spot, having the eureka moment and crossing.

That's not to say there aren't delightful segments along the way. There are. Stands of birch, the sweet sent of balsam fir and sections of ancient downed trees and carpets of moss provide welcome diversions from the largely viewless trek until the short, final steep thrust up to the Alpine zone. As the Isolation Trail hands off to the final mile on the Davis Path, we wound by primitive campsites and saw one of the rare yellow blazes along the way.

Xtra Fun

The Davis Path was a bit playful with its many old wooden planks to cross. A couple of them were like see-saws and provided a touch of X-Game flair and hiking silliness that comes during the monotony of a long slog.

The plodding was broken by the excitement of reaching the top as a helicopter flew overhead in the distance. The summit was marked by cairn and U.S. Geological Survey Bench Mark, with many paths available to turn an easy 180-degree view spot into something more.

It was unclear whether the jays appreciated the stellar landscape, but they no doubt enjoy the errant morsels left behind by hikers, some of whom might appreciate having a pair of those strong little wings. That way, they could turn themselves into human puddle jumpers for the return journey to the Pinkham Notch trailhead hub.