Mount Isolation is aptly named for how difficult it is to get to. Don't let the fact that it is one of the smaller four thousand footers fool you, it is work to reach this summit. By Glen Boulder route, described here, an elevation of 5175' is reached before descending to the summit of Isolation. The payoff is probably the best view of the Southern Presidential Ridge. The alpine vegetation is also really cool. On the way up hikers can enjoy expansive views accross the Gulf of Slides. This page describes an extension of this hike to Mount Davis. Though it has great views, it is nothing better than Mount Isolation and it's definitely a better idea to reserve energy for the strenuous return journey.
In the prior months, my hiking had been focused mostly on the southern parts of the Whites, especially the Sandwich Range and I felt like changing it up. I also wanted to go a little further north to get better foliage. I craved a strenuous hike and settled on Mount Isolation for its remoteness and potential for awesome views of Mount Washington and the southern Presidentials. Out of the two main routes, the other being Rocky Branch Trail, I chose Glen Boulder since it's known for better scenery.
With it being a three hour drive from Boston, I got on the trail at 9 AM, a little later than I would have liked. I squeezed into one of the few remaining parking spots at the Glen Ellis Falls lot and started on this strenuous hike. I began with the mindset of powering through the beginning of the hike with the plan to take my time at the more scenic sections. Glen Boulder Trail was steep almost immediately. The trail was more rocky than my more recent hikes in the Sandwich region, but the footing was solid. I crossed a ski trail after 0.8 miles and passed an opportunity to see a small, but pretty waterfall a few hundred yards after. I listened to the sounds of Glen Brook for the next fifth of a mile until crossing it and continuing the steep climb. I hiked with a friendly older gentleman for a bit, who told me about a bushwhack which could save 200 feet of elevation before the intersection with Davis Path. I hiked ahead of him, but I would have been best served syncing up with him at that point to save myself some energy.
I emerged from the gorgeously colored trees after about a mile and a half total and fourteen hundred feet gained over forty-five minutes. I had already expended a lot of energy early into my hike and stopped for a well deserved snack and view of Wildcat Mountain. The foliage rose on either side of Route 16 and blended into the higher boreal forest. I continued another quarter mile and 300 feet to Glen Boulder, a huge, precariously balanced glacial erratic.
The alpine scenery was spectacular. The foot high shrubs expressed amazing colors of their own and Mount Washington loomed above and beyond. Less than a half mile after Glen Boulder, I entered a scrub of upper boreal forest with ten to twenty foot tall trees, and the trail leveled out a bit while still climbing. I passed a sign for a spring that my AMC guide describes as “fine” and sixty yards off the trail (marked with a waypoint on the alltrails route). Then, for the first time ever, I spotted a ruffed grouse that did not startle me (see video).
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Click here for a virtual reality picture of the Gulf of Slides
After half a mile, I emerged from the forest and approached Gulf Peak a few hundred yards later. Immediately before the peak, there was a thin path to the right that led to breathtaking views of the Gulf of Slides, Mount Washington to the left, and Wildcat to the right. I felt high above the beautifully colored forest while continuing to be dwarfed by Mount Washington. At the actual Gulf Peak, I could see to the southern White Mountains and identify the peaks of the Sandwich Range, using the cone of Chocorua as a reference.
I resumed after a quick snack embracing the scenery. The ridge was now completely exposed and I trekked over the loose rocks as the path continued rising. I climbed towards the highest point of my hike at the intersection with Davis Path amid the persisting views. When I turned onto the new path, the cairns acted as dots connecting the trail. I made quick work of the first downhill portion of my hike.
After a quarter mile, the boreal forest welcomed me back with the most wonderful scent, reminding me of Christmas. These beautiful woods offered the occasional opening for the bright sun to make its way through. The steady downhill was briefly interrupted by a hump in the ridge. I passed Isolation Trail on my right and then on my left and continued descending. The trail just barely began ascending when I reached the short spur to Mount Isolation. The peak was as crowded as I would ever expect for the remote peak, and for good reason. The views were out of this world. The entire ridge of the Southern Presidentials was prominent along with the mighty Mount Washington. The summit of Isolation is a few extra feet around some trees after entering the clearing.
By this time I had already gotten a day’s worth of hiking in. I still had to climb back up over a thousand feet before my return descent could commence. In retrospect, I should have accepted this as the conclusion of my exploration, and begun my return. I was enticed by the potential solitude of Mount Davis a mile down the ridge, and the views it could offer.
As I returned to Davis Path, I noticed how much more empty the trail was and loved the privacy that had eluded me up to this point. I also realized that I had forgotten to inform anyone of where I was hiking, and became aware of how tenuous a situation I was putting myself in. I wasn’t sure how well the spur to Mount Davis was marked so I was diverting some of my attention to spotting a path to my left. Then, suddenly, my left ankle turned. The twist produced some unsettling cracks and pops, and I tumbled to the earth. I was simultaneously angry and scared. I took a couple minutes to gather myself on the forest floor before rising to my feet. My ankle was definitely hurting, but not excruciating. I quickly decided to continue to my destination, a half mile away; this was unwise.
I reached the clearly marked spur to Mount Davis and ascended to the clearing, a steep fifth of a mile to the remote peak. I had achieved the solitude I had sought, but, in my current condition, it was more disconcerting than calming. The views at the peak were amazing. I could see in all directions, but not from a seated position. A little below the top, a small clearing offered a decent seat and probably the best view you can get of the southern Presidential Ridge. I ate my bagel sandwich, then contemplated if descending via Rocky Branch Trail and then walking on the road would be a less strenuous option. Despite significantly less climbing, I decided the alternative was too much extra mileage, and opted to return via the path I came.
The 2000’ foot climb over four miles to Glen Boulder Trail was a huge challenge. I knew my ankle would give me trouble after my hike, but it was serviceable and I moved as quickly as I could while taking care with my steps. After my already arduous hike, this stretch would have been difficult even without my injury.
There were now significantly less hikers on the trail. I took several breathers along the way and a more significant break when I made it back above treeline. I was grateful for the awesome south-facing views across the hazy sky for diverting my attention.
I made my way past the line of cairns and back to the apex of the hike. I gingerly descended the loose rocks, passed Gulf Peak, meandered through the scrub, and returned to the open alpine vistas. The now steeper trail had tenuous footing and lacked handholds. At this point I really wished I had brought my hiking poles. I walked past Glen Boulder and descended back into the trees.
The trail continued to be as steep as ever, but at least now, there was soil between the rocks and trees to intermittently use as handholds. I made an abbreviated stop at the small, yet beautiful cascades of Glen Brook. Access to them is only available at the last runoff from the trail and is unmarked but clear.
After splashing my face with water I pushed through the final mile of the descent. Eventually the steepness relented, but the trailhead felt like it would never arrive. It finally did at 6:20 PM and I was relieved that my car could now transport my body. The day’s hike was saturated with beauty and hurdles. I stayed off my ankle for a good two weeks and returned to milder hiking after more than three weeks. I refrained from running for a good four months.
I have some reflections worth sharing in regards to challenging hikes: I planned this hike while watching sports in the later hours without due diligence and underestimated the hike. I also want to remind myself that every portion of a hike should be considered a contingency on how I feel in the moment, ending the hike early is fine. It would have helped to practice STOP (Stop, Think, Observe, Plan) in a more mindful way; turning around at Isolation, and definitely at the location of my injury, would have been a better option. I should always tell someone where I plan to hike.