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Mt Isolation - page 6 of 6

After returning to our tent, we took it easy a while. I pulled off my boots and socks to soak my tired feet in the cold running water of Dry River. Muffin just lay down in the dirt near the tent, too tired to move.

I was anxious to head back, hoping to get home before nightfall, so I soon returned to dismantle the tent, then packed up, and we hit the trail. I had assumed that the hike back down the Dry River Trail to Rt 302 would be smooth sailing, just an easy downhill trek along the river. I shortly found out that such was not to be. This is a rough trail, repeatedly alternating between the riverbank and a high bluff above the stream. There were a lot of ups and downs. Complicating the matter was the fact that Muffin's feet were sore and she couldn't walk too quickly.

Further down the river, we began to come across fisherman. A group of them had come to try their luck for the weekend. After crossing the suspension bridge over the river, I figured the trail would finally begin to smooth and level out. Instead, we encountered a steep rise on the opposite bank that seemed to go on forever. One section of the path, at the edge of a long dropoff, was slippery and pitched sideways toward the cliff. At one point, I started to slip but caught myself just in time.

By the time we reached the road, Muffin's feet were extremely sore, and the hot pavement only made things worse. I figured that it would be easy to hitchhike back up to Crawford Hostel, that another hiker (or dog lover) would soon pass by and stop to give us a lift, especially since I was now carrying Muffin. Never-the-less, I walked almost all the way to Willey House before we got a ride, and that was from an AMC shuttle that happened to be out on an errand. It was later in the day after all regular shuttle runs had ended. 

I was tired and a bit peeved. I could understand vacationers with cars full kids not stopping, but there were plenty of guys passing me by who obviously had room, including some pickup trucks that I would have been happy to ridge in the back of. I didn't think a backpacker carrying a small dog in an area known for hiking should seem so threatening .

At any rate, we finally got back to the car. I sunk into the seat with a sigh, and we headed home, stopping at McDonald's in Lincoln to get supper. After a couple of days, Muffin's feet returned to normal. 

Muffin crossing the Dry River near our tentsite. Sometimes I have to help Muffin across rivers, but this time she made it fine on her own.

muffin crossing dry river.jpg (54753 bytes)

Railroad parts along the Dry River Trail. These pieces of train track paraphernalia are all that's left to show that a logging railroad once ran along this route.

railroad parts.jpg (84744 bytes)

A split tree across the Dry River Trail. This tree will undoubtedly fall on top the trail one of these days unless someone cuts it down. It was hanging by a thread.

split tree.jpg (84175 bytes)

The Dry River. Despite its name, this river is not dry. In fact, it often floods during the spring meltoff. The large boulders in the riverbed hide the water in this view.

dry river.jpg (68750 bytes)

Suspension bridge over the Dry River. Just north of the wilderness boundary, the trail crosses over to the other side on this bridge. The people at the bottom of the picture were fishing.

bridge.jpg (74934 bytes)

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