The next day I was back on the trail. This is a day of not so great news, so I'll tell you the first baddie right now. Marie's leg had started to bother her a couple of days ago, and she'd been icing it at night and really stayed off it on our day off. But she didn't think she should walk a whole day. So she dropped me off at Boston Mills Road and drove around to Lock 29 where she would join me for the rest of the day. Or so we thought.
Although not a wooded scene, I think trail through places like this is very beautiful. The trail wound its way beneath Interstate 271 (with the Ohio Turnpike visible in the distance), then climbed the hill to the left and re-entered woods.
I came down off the lovely hill, with a great view over the Turnpike that I posted on Facebook.
The route down to the village of Peninsula was a lot of fun because about half a mile was on an old closed street that had grown over, leaving just the footpath. But look at the treadway. It was a brick road! Very fun, almost magical, to walk through woods on old brick!
Just a few blocks and turns and I reached Lock 29 and met Marie at the village of Peninsula. Here's where I made the biggest mistake of the hike. But I'll show you how I made it. No excuses, just the facts. Here's a map of Peninsula and the trail, taken from Google. You can sure see why it's named Peninsula.
I actually had it in my head to use my phone GPS and make sure that we headed south on the towpath trail, but I also had it in my head that if we went south, as we should, the canal would be on our right and the river on the left as it had been earlier.
What the map text did not say (and sorry Buckeye folks, I'm not crazy about your new maps with the background faded down so much they are pretty hard to read) is that the trail/towpath actually crosses the river at Peninsula. So the canal-right, river-left thing worked for both north and south travel. Who knew?
Then I got caught up in a whole bunch of neat historical displays and stuff. Masons' marks on stones in Lock 29. A feeder canal built to feed Lock 30, wildflowers, baby wood ducks (will show another day), locks with interesting names like Lonesome Lock. Well, I never checked the GPS and suddenly we were looking at the Turnpike soaring ahead. Uh-oh! We'd walked north two miles.
So Marie walked back to Lock 29 with me, and decided her leg was too sore to continue. It was indeed swollen and bright red. So we ate lunch and she drove to where we had stashed the end car and waited for me.
After I went the correct direction, first I crossed the river on the bridge from which I took the picture showing foundations remaining from the aqueduct that used to carry the canal across the river. You can't just dip a canal down a hill to make a crossing.
Here's an historical view of the aqueduct in the background with water pouring into Lock 29.
The day had been planned to be 10 miles, but I managed to make it 14 for me, even though four of those didn't count.
I passed Johnnycake Lock (where passengers were stranded one winter and had nothing to eat for days but corn pancakes) and Deep Lock, which was an amazing 17-foot lift. The standard for Ohio was 9 feet, and most in New York are 10 feet.
The towpath trail was largely shaded, and I walked fast so I could rejoin Marie. I love the hiking for its own sake, but these trips we make together are as much about the friendship as the walk.
It was a lovely evening in camp, but Marie decided she will just spot me for the final days of the hike, and not walk.
Total miles (that count) this trip so far: 93.1
And now, in real-world time, it's Saturday night. I've felt yucky all day and am headed back to bed.
