The only rough part was coming down to Old Man Hut. I was swearing both internally and out loud at the pain the steep decline caused in my knees, at the impending incline tomorrow, and at the possibility that I had taken a wrong turn and was going down down down for no reason, which seemed increasingly likely as the interminable hill went on. Fortunately, this last was not the case and I found the hut, Bethany, and a guy named Sheldon who is far too agile for his own good. He's doing in two days what we plan to do in four and, when he passed me earlier in the day, i shouted after him that he looked like a mountain goat, prancing along the trail. Yes, I used the word prancing. He seemed to find us mildly amusing, but unsure of what to say. He seemed a lonely sort, but I decided I liked him after he laughed at the amount and quality of food we brought, but also admitted that protecting our chili-lime corn chips from the mice was of top priority.