The washing machine at the Microtel was out of order, and despite the word of the front desk staff that it would be serviced by this morning, it remained defunct. The staff did direct us to a laundromat a mere half hour walk away, but that was about as helpful as they were compelled to be. The staff refused to launder our clothes in the non-guest machines and explained that they couldn't shuttle us...even though they had just shuttled another hiker back to the trail. Zagat, Books, Sweet Cheeks, and I checked out of the less-than-helpful establishment. And, Sweet Cheeks and I ventured off to the laundromat in a galaxy far, far away, while Zagat and Books visited Cabela's.
At the laundromat, I met Abe's mother. Though I'd never met Abe, we talked for some time, and she told me of Abe's unfortunate encounter with Lyme's disease. He had apparently hiked into Port Clinton with a 105° fever and was taking some time off the trail to recuperate. She offered us a ride back to the trail, whenever we were ready.
After completing the laundry, we called Rochelle, Abe's mother; she collect the four of us and delivered us to the Port Clinton post office. I secured a mail drop, as we discussed our plans for the remainder of the day. We wanted lunch, but nothing was open in Port Clinton. As such, we found a trail angel, Fred, who drove us back into Hamburg.
We explored Cabela's and found that it didn't really cater to hikers, more to outdoor sports. The gear tended to be rather low end, as well. We ate dinner at Logan's Roadhouse and attempted to hitch back into Port Clinton. (But again...this is Pennsylvania, so it came as no surprise when no one would pick us up.) After our attempts at hitchhiking failed, we called Fred, who returned us to Port Clinton.
Fred informed us of free tenting at the local park, and we all decided that it was much too late to hike out. After relaxing around a blazing fire, we all retired for the night.
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