It rains most of the night. The good news is our dry things remain dry. The bad news is our wet things remain soaking wet. We wait for a small break, then make a break for the bathroom and the cooking room, which thankfully are two different rooms. We make several coffees, oatmeal, and Pop Tarts. The room heats up again with bodies and stoves. We hear rumor that the bridge is now open, but only to one person at a time. The military’s lack of complete confidence in their repair is a bit disconcerting, but if it holds up, will save us a tremendous amount of hassle.
Without hiking today, it is difficult not to eat more than our share. While in the cooking area the biggest fox I have ever seen strolls by. I race out in the cold to get my video camera, and to tell John to come quick with his still camera. A paparazzi of cameras begins to pursue, including two girls who have taken point. With discipline to stand our ground we can have as many wonderful pictures as we want. But alas, each of us stepping forward for a slightly better shot, keeps our friendly fox on the fly. If Aesop were alive, he would immortalize our greedy tale.
The sun peeks out between short bouts of rain. We move our wet cloths in and out of our tent, trying to keep pace. Our cloths become two steps drier, then one step wetter, during each cycle. Eventually they become dry enough that the risk of leaving them out is no longer worth it.
Tonight we have full board, which means dinner, breakfast tomorrow, and a sack lunch handed out at breakfast. We sort our food, figuring out how much we can eat. Brian and I make bean burritos for lunch.
Dinner is soup, stewed chicken, mashed potatoes, and something that seems tiramisu-like. Brian is not overly impressed, but we did not have to cook it and, more importantly, we did not have to carry it.