The next morning we got up late, of course. We had the same dilemma as the day before, what to do with our stuff and how to deal with the next occupants. Again we brought everything downstairs and piled it in a tower in the corner. After breakfast we had to wait until the nurses left so we could clean up the hut. Of course, they were in no hurry. That morning we were greeted by a porcupine right outside the window. There were signs in the outhouse warning of that porcupines like it in there.

We decided to ski toward the eastern ridge of Homestake Peak which looked like it had perfect avalanche-free ski slopes for some good runs. The day was snowy and blustery, not the sunny March weather I had come to expect in Colorado, and it was pretty obvious right from the start that the snow, which had softened up from the sun the day before, was now a bad crust. Unless it got sunny again, or we found a slope to the north that never softened, skiing wasn't going to be very good.

An hour and a half from the hut, ascending no more than 400' up the slope, we decided it was not worth going further up. There was a crust that held us fine going up, but was easy to break into it going down, and there was no way to do a turn (at least at our skill levels) once the skis were in the crust. Instead we decided to look for better snow. Unfortunately every slope available to us was south-facing, which means it had frozen the night before, and no thaw seemed likely today.

Part of the way down, as I was attempting to do a kick turn, my downhill ski just popped out of my binding for reasons I didn't understand, and the ski went shooting down the slope. A second escaped ski this trip! It was headed directly for Glenn about 20' below me, but got stuck in a tree between us. Another fortunate stop, I thought, although if it had kept going here, it would only have been a major inconvenience, not an emergency. Glenn was easily able to get the ski out of the tree while I slid on my butt toward him.

Giving up on the idea of any good skiing, we decided to find a wind-free place to sit down for lunch, and then maybe go out to see Slide Lake. My stomach queasiness didn't improve since morning, and it was difficult to eat the fine jalapeno cheese salami rollup that Glenn made for us. We were back at the hut by 4 PM, at which point I decided I was really getting sick and had to lie down. Luckily, nobody had arrived in the hut yet, so I could sprawl out in the common area. The others didn't feel like going out again, so we just spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing, although I spent the time just feeling worse and worse, unable to move. Eventually I asked for a dishpan, and within minutes I vomited what seemed like everything I ate in the last 24 hours plus a gallon of liquid. I'm not the kind of guy who throws up easily—I don't remember doing it in at least 25 years—so it was pretty obvious that I caught whatever stomach flu those kids had. At least we knew now that since I caught it, too, it probably wasn't food poisoning. Fortunately, I was the only one of us that got it, which meant the other guys could help take care of me. While I might have preferred to be helped by the real nurses we had yesterday, the peace and quiet of the hut was very nice. Vomiting helped me feel better for a while, but this was not the last of it that evening. The other guys made dinner, while I couldn't even hold down a few spoons of soup. My only consolation was that they later told me the frozen salmon wasn't that great.

It was getting later and darker, and still nobody showed up. At what point do we decide the next group isn't going to come, and then move up into the bedrooms? This unknown was agonizing. I decided it had to be a single group that reserved the whole hut, because the odds of nobody from multiple groups showing up by 6 PM was very small. I thought maybe they were trying to get here from Uncle Bud's—a very long day trip—and got into trouble on the way. Maybe someone was hurt or just got too pooped to move. The weather outside was snowy and unpleasant as dusk fell, and I felt very sorry for those people. By 7:30 PM it was nearly dark, at which time we decided that no matter what the other group said, we weren't going to go back down. Anyway, I was still too sick even to get off the couch. At least we had an excuse for staying.

By 8 PM we gave up on the other people. It was rather lonely with just the 4 of us rattling around in that big hut, compared to the last two nights, and I wasn't even able to take part in the rattle. But I appreciated the peace and quiet as I lay in agony. That night I slept downstairs while the others moved their stuff up into a bedroom.