The scouts, and other hangers-around at the camp such as myself, took turns to try our hand at baking traditional Hälsingland flatbread, with the help of a local expert. I enjoyed the result.

Most of the day the supply tent had a steady flow of visitors. And while I could let them manage on their own – take whatever they need and put it back wherever seems good – it (a) doesn’t feel right and (b) would probably cause a big mess after a while. So I hung around. (And dried more tarps, and chased down tools that never came back, and untangled rope.) But I did take time for a brief photo walk in the evening, to a nearby ruined old water mill.