Yesterday we'd loosened our limbs over just 8km of gentle undulation. Today we'll head further West. Across the river and then up, up, up. All the way to Sylan. If the fancy takes us and the conditions permit we'll camp. If it doesn't and they don't we'll have huts, spartan and luxury, to choose from.
It'd been a cold night, perhaps deeper than fifteen below, but I'd stayed warm and, thankfully, dry. No frozen foot end and no collapsing down. It seems synthetic over down is the way to go. Jorgen said it was. Breakfast in bed is also the way to go. Willem-Maarten sets up the stove and we make a hot porridge with the last of last nights melt. I relish mine. Hot, fruity, creamy richness to stoke the fire and get the blood running. The down side: what goes in must come out. Shoes must go on and early morning constitutionals must be taken. As these things go this one was comfortable. Thims construction will be remembered for a long time.