Date: 2004-07-02
From: Port Clinton (hotel)

To: Eckville Shelter
Miles today: 15.2
Weather: clear sky

15.2 mi. in 7 hoursWe slept in until 6 AM today, at least an hour later than usual. Still tired and sore. We walked through town in a heavy mist to a restaurant at the other end. We passed an pen pavilion in the woods along the river, where other hikers were spending the night. There I met another Mainer, Meanderthal (yes, "M"). He's a newsman from Ellsworth a bit younger than I, and has bagged all the peaks in NH/VT but one. He files regular reports in the Ellsworth American. He's only the second Mainer I've met. Florida and Michigan are the big states for me so far. Southernman and I hiked out of town and back up onto a ridge before it became hot. We were bracing ourselves for yet more rocks, but were happy to finds woods roads for the most part.Hiking out of Port Clinton We lunched at Pinnacle Rocks, an outcropping with a near-360 degree view of woodlands and farmlands far below us. Black vultures were soaring everywhere. Still no turkey buzzards sighted. When do they set in as we travel north? Hikers passing earlier in the day later told us they encountered some copperhead snakes, but we saw none. This place is near Hawk Mountain, a famous raptor migration waystation, but no one's migrating right now. Along the way we hooked up with Papa Bear and Badger, John and Mary, and an older small, wiry man, Sixty Five and Alive, hiking solo. He started out much later in April than I did, so is doing very well indeed. I'm constantly impressed by the number of "elderly" hikers on the trail, and how well they are doing, women as well as men. Got into this shelter by 3 PM. It's in the yard of a house by the road and has a caretaker, snacks in a fridge, and a shower. The Hobbits came in later, making our number eight in all. The Hobbits, Holly and Heidi, are identical twins from Vermont, recently out of college, and aptly named. They're quite petite, very retiring, speak very softly and sparingly, and generally keep to themselves. Good hikers. Trail tale: A woman solo hiker trying to reach Port Clinton last week ran out of daylight, so camped in her bivy sack a few miles short of town, still up on the ridge. In the night she felt something poke her feet, kicked back, and heard a deep growl. The "something" then dragged her bag, she still in it, 30 feet across the rocks, bumpity bump, as she frantically tried to unzip and escape. Once out, her screams drove off the critter, most likely a bear, though a few hikers have sighted mountain lions up and down the trail. She spent several days in Port Clinton getting over the experience. Some figure the bear may have been trying to drag her away from its den and cubs, or it would have attacked her on the spot, or gone after her food. My Pocketmail has come back home all fixed up. Once it reaches me, I'll be working up these reports with my thumbs again, and Gloria will be spared having to transcribe my handwritten notes. Garcia, Southernman's former hiking partner but now off the trail with a bad back, drove up tonight and brought back food orders for us, including ice cream for me. A fine end to a good day. The tent's pitched on a mowed lawn in a light breeze. Should be a good night ahead. 17 miles of ridge waiting for us tomorrow. Let's hope for more great views. G'nite! Now or Never