Ahhhhh… What decadence! What luxury! To soak in the lovely hot waters after cycling for 1 ½ months was a treat like no other. The four of us played and relaxed in the natural pools and allowed all the built-up stress to gently flow away.
Hours later we made our way to Kelly and Terry’s RV, where they had invited us to dinner. The boys spent a delightful evening playing and watching movies with their son, Michael, while John & I were entertained for hours by Terry’s stories. And the food – oh my! They had whipped up some of the best food we’ve eaten since Fairbanks!
But perhaps the best part of hanging out with Kelly and Terry all evening was the rain – it poured buckets and buckets – while we kicked back in lawn chairs under their awning. Maybe there’s something to be said for those RVs after all.
Around midnight we waddled back to our tent in near darkness.
“Who left the tent fly open?” I called out as soon as I arrived.
“Not me!” Davy answered.
“Not me!” Daryl echoed.
“I didn’t,” John added. “Someone must have broken in.”
Once we looked inside, however, it was clear that no one had broken in – nothing was taken, but LOTS of stuff was wet.
I don’t mean just a few little drops of water. Our mats were floating in a huge puddle of water, one pillow was completely drenched, another one quite wet, and half of two sleeping bags were wet. Quite a disaster, in other words.
As near as we can figure, John left the fly open – he came back to our site to get jackets and forgot to close it.
We mopped up the mess the best we could, then piled in. Our tent is just barely large enough for the four of us anyway, and with one-quarter of it rendered useless, it was quite a mess.
The kids and I crammed into one half of the tent using two sleeping bags, while John curled up in the remaining part using the dry parts of the two wet sleeping bags.
The moral of the story here is: ALWAYS close your fly!
Kilometers today: 67
Kilometers to date: 2546