Date: 2010-06-30
From: Eagle's Nest Shelter

To: Port Clinton Pavilion
Miles today: 8.6
Weather: clear sky

~~~Getting my Wits Back ( Thank You Freeman !!) ~~~Last night was the most frightening and the most grateful night I've had on the trail. Typical of me to read up on everything, plan everything, chart everything and then hike like a bloody fool, burning up miles only to reach the next shelter at 230 in the afternoon, waiting, waiting, waiting for someone behind me to come along. Really, really stupid. Need to re-think this one. AGAIN.So, I decide to hang at the shelter with Freeman as he's waiting for someone from the 501 shelter to bring up his umbrella that he left by accident. We didn't get going until AFTER 2pm, when I usually get into a shelter. It was quite the change. Avatar, another tall, lanky graceful hiker, brought up the umbrella, we went down to the stream to camel up on the water and made our way up to the trail. Down the trail comes this big burly man with a tall hiking staff that has a small leather bag attached to the top. His name is Warrior and he and Freeman know each other. Turns out Warrior lives not only in Florida, but about 20 minutes west of where I live. Go figure ~~~So, Hiker Weenie (that's me) tags along with Freeman and he is such a hoot. He showed me different plants and the difference between a blueberry and a boysenberry (boysenberry's have more seeds and eat crunchier) and we looked at birds and leaves and it was quick milage to get into town when you're with someone.Getting down the hill into Port Clinton, though, was bordering on dangerous. The final trail down to the railroad yard was so steep and loaded with gravel that I backed away from Freeman in the event that I took a tumble and took him with me. Every hiker later that day commented on the seriousness of the trail getting into town. Scary. Going downhill, on any hill, is much, much more tiring and hard on your body as opposed to going uphill. You'd think it would be easier but your knees and toebox taking a beating.Crossed over a lovely bridge into Port Clinton, a very, very small town who has graciously opened up their town pavilion to the hikers. However, nowhere in any data book does it tell you that it is abutted against the turnpike and the noise of the traffic is fierce. Bring earplugs. A gentleman, whose house was on the street leading to the pavilion, offered to fill the water jugs at the pavilion and drive us back up so we wouldn't have to carry them. Freeman, bless his heart, did the deed as I slowly eased my feet out of my shoes and started repair work, again, on my feet.Rabid, Timber and Safari were setting up tents. Freeman camped out. I choose to sleep on a bench as did Warrior who arrived before we did, though I believe the floor would have been better. Got a bit cold during the night but my sleeping bag, which is very comfy for me, held up well. I do regret getting the smaller Thermarest Neo. It's only 2/3's of my body length and I make up for the bottom part by having my pack at the end. It also elevates my feet to help with the swelling. No problem with snoring by anyone tonight. The traffic drowns out all noise. But when you're tired enough, it doesn't matter.