Last Thursday, the third day after our arrival in the Waterville Valley, New Hampshire, the weather turned dramatically from cool and wet to warm and dry, and we could hardly believe the blue sky that greeted us in the morning. Clearly, nature has her own ideas about how she will present despite the conceit that those who study weather patterns and predict weather-days well in advance of what nature prepares to advise her elements.

We decided to make the drive over to Rattlesnake Mountain, the one mountain now accessible to us in our elder years. It's a pleasant drive to get there, bypassing Center Harbour to Holderness, to take the long meandering drive into the forested region, skirting Squam Lake. The parking area held only a few vehicles as we pulled in at about half-past ten. The parking area across the highway was empty. We didn't actually expect to see many people taking the trail to access the top of the mountain, since it was a week-day.

But we had forgotten how popular a trail it is simply because it is such a relatively easy climb at just under 1,300 feet elevation for a very nice view. It's popular both with the locals and with tourists. It is such a favourite destination that we once came across a wedding procession trudging up the rocky, root-riven slope, the bride in full white bridal gear, wearing hiking boots, attendants in tuxes, determined to make this a unique event. It was the year we had our granddaughter with us, and she wasn't impressed, at age thirteen.

We were informed by someone living locally that she had once reached the top to find a full band playing up there. On this day, however, we took our time doing the climb, and so did our two little dogs. The parking lot may not have been full when we arrived, but obviously people kept arriving, since people kept coming up behind us, more than were passing in the opposite direction, descending from the top.

Any time another dog came along our two awful little dogs became barking-hysterical; most embarrassing. Generally people are very forgiving, thank heavens. We plodded along up the slope determined to reach our destination, knowing nice and easy does it. We did see other older people and some who were fairly unfit in appearance, quite overweight, making the climb. I have no idea if any others our age were among them, since most people tend to look older than their years.

We did decide, when we reached the point where the path divided, left and right, to turn right. Left takes one a few hundred yards on to the mountain top, a wide expanse of granite with stunted pines and some alpine growth fringing it. Standing there (or sitting, as the case may be) one looks down upon Squam Lake. Not a spectacular view from an imposing height by any means, but respectable enough.

We decided this time around to bypass the immensely popular 'top', given the unexpectedly heavy traffic, and to take the right-hand path to take us to the stony outcrop that is the lookout. We're familiar with both, after years of hiking there. And we happen to enjoy the lookout, not only for its beautiful aspect and presentation, but for the fact that most people are unaware of its existence. And we found no one else there, on this hike.

So we sat around awhile, refreshed our two little canine companions with water and doggy treats, took photographs, discussed how well our trip had proceeded thus far, and eventually decided to carry on back down. The hike up took us approximately a half-hour of dogged (oops!) concentration, while the descent took slightly shorter. The thing of it is, this time we found the trail, as a result of the continuous rain the region has had, very boggy in many places.

When we first began coming around this site it was to climb the more ambitious heights; (West) Rattlesnake was just a little pleasant diversion. And at that time, decades ago, one climbed the natural slope. Many years later the hiking trail was 'improved' with the addition of 'steps' made out of logs and stones, and those steps are a major irritant, far more difficult to use than the natural slope itself.

The forest on either side of the trail is very pleasant, and often one hears robins and thrushes singing from tree tops. Often other winged creatures are present, as they were this time; both mosquitoes and black flies. Red oak and pine and hemlock and yellow birch seem to predominate. We don't find the wide range of wildflowers there that we do on hikes elsewhere in the White Mountain range.

When we reached the parking lot and prepared to leave, my husband put the truck into reverse. And it slumped forward. Because of all the rain drenching the area past the point where absorption could occur, only the top inch or so of the soil appeared dry; below it the ground is saturated. And that saturated ground held the truck in thrall. It looked as though we would need help leaving that parking space. The back wheels spun and dug deep into the soil as my husband tried again to back up and the truck continued to fall forward toward a ditch beyond the flat ground. Another attempt, and it worked; we were able to back out and go on our way.