(Port Clinton Pavilion (off mile 1220) - Allentown Hiking Club Shelter (mile 1242.4))

A little after midnight I awoke to the sound of yelling coming from the direction of the house party. I heard what sounded like “GET THE F— OFF MY PROPERTY!!!” followed by the sound of tires screeching and multiple gunshots. The car (or cars) sped down the road away from the pavilion and must have merged onto the road behind the pavilion because about a minute later I heard another burst of gunfire from the road on top of the hill behind the pavilion. The car(s) then sped off and everything was quiet. Savage, Trainer, and I all shared in a bit of muttered confusion before shrugging it off and falling back into sleep.

I managed to make it through the night without getting pooped on my a bird. In fact, I slept very well and woke up to find mostly blue skies. I took the morning slow and wasn’t hiking until about 9:30am. The air wasn’t warm yet, but mote importantly it wasn’t cold and the sky promised a reprieve after three days of miserably cold rain.

The first part of my morning involved a road walk through Port Clinton. The most notable sight was a sign posted on a front yard shed that read: “HIKERS ARE NOT WELCOME.” This was odd because all the people I’ve met in trail towns have been extremely welcoming. Maybe this particular person had a bad experience with a hiker in the past and is now prejudiced towards the whole community. Or maybe they just have a serious “STAY OFF MY LAWN” kind of mentality. I’d wager the second speculation is more likely. I believe the hiker community at large is a pretty respectful group of folks. Amusingly, they had hung a metal butterfly next to the sign in what might of been an attempt to soften its aggressiveness.

As I was making my way back through Port Clinton, I also took the opportunity to retire one of my Smartwater bottles. This particular bottle had sprung a pinhole leak after 1,220 miles of trail. RIP. Thank you for your service🫡

My plan for the day was to hike about 19-20 miles, but if I wanted to camp at a shelter, my options were to go 15 or 22 miles. According to Guthook, there aren’t any good campsites between the shelters, so I knew I’d probably end up hiking 22 miles.

The trail took me down along the Schuylkill River for about a half mile before crossing under PA Highway 61. On the other side of the bridge, I reached a road crossing and small parking lot. Just as I was rejoining the trail I noticed a pair of hikers - a young man and woman I hadn’t seen before - getting dropped off. They were colorfully dressed and looked like cool folks, but I didn’t stop to chat. I figured I’d run into them eventually.

The climb out of town was steep and lasted about 1.5 miles before I reached the rocky ridge. After another 5 miles of ridge hiking, I reached Pulpit Rock. The overlook was crowded with day hikers. Among them I spotted Stew, who I started chatting with. As we were chatting, the colorful couple I had seen earlier reached the rock. Stew already knew them and greeted them warmly. The man was sideHUSTLE and the woman was Sketchbook. They asked if we were planning to eat lunch yet, and we all ended up sitting down to grub. There were so many day hikers crowding the overlook that we couldn’t even position ourselves with a nice view while we ate. Instead, we just ate together off to the side. Regardless, I was excited about my lunch. It was half of a DIY sub which I had packed out from town, including a Walmart French wheat loaf, salami, honey ham, and pepper jack cheese (the first half had been my dinner yesterday).

I didn’t learn much about Sketchbook or sideHUSTLE since Stew, in his gregarious manner, did most of the talking. He told us that he’s recently been hiking in a pair of bike shorts meant for cyclists. They have extra padding in the crotch/groin area designed to grant extra comfort to cyclists perched on hard and narrow bike seats for long rides. Stew hoped they would help with chaffing, but they’ve had the opposite effect. Apparently, the padding is like a sweat sponge, which causes irritation as it rubs against his thighs all day. Sounds unpleasant.

About 2 miles after Pulpit Rock, I reached the Pinnacle, who’s side trail was marked with a behemoth ~15 foot pile of rocks that I imagine have accumulated over many, many years of day hikers’ contributions. I made my way down the short side trail, which was congested with day hikers, and discovered a huge cliff offering spectacular views to the east overlooking the farms below. As I approached the rocks, Stew motioned me over to the north end of the cliff. A small crowd of day hikers had gathered near him, and with a big smile on his face, he declared “There’s a rattlesnake over here!” and pointed to the ground in front of him. Sure enough, there was a medium sized timber rattlesnake, coiled up on a ledge below. The snake appeared to be almost ready to shed, and seemed uninterested in the crowd forming above.

After admiring the view for a bit, I hiked on and found that the trail became a beautifully graded two track road. The next few miles offered easy hiking, with tons of water sources and tentsites. I caught a big crawfish at one water source and then at the next one I caught up with Stew. We ended up hiking together for most of the afternoon, and I learned a lot about Stew’s life over the past few years. While in undergrad, he had studied abroad in New Zealand where he met a French girl with whom he started a relationship. After graduating with a geology degree, he went to France to spend time with the girl. Things fell apart after two weeks, so Stew ended up bumming around France and Europe. He managed to pick up a good bit of French, but then COVID hit and Stew was forced to scramble for something to do. He ended up finding a Workaway position on a farm out west with a francophone woman who offered to help him practice his French. After that, he started a geology masters program in Philadelphia but hated it. Now he’s on the AT. When he finishes, he’s planning to teach English in France. It all sounded like a chaotic but fun few years.

I ended up making it about 22 miles and stopping at the Allentown Hiking Club Shelter while Stew hiked on. At the shelter, I found the trail family I met the night before Port Clinton, including Sticks, Ranger, Gadget, and Whistler.

After days of rain

the sunny sky emerges

casting me in warmth