We walked to Richmond, and road walking is always a bit tough because you get bored and notice the aches and pains more. We ate a final meal of non-trail food at the pub, and the chicken nuggets were a poor substitute for the Closed Indian resteraunt we craved. Not to mention that they may have ended up giving me food poisoning. So when we got to the hut, i had go through our nightly battle with the mice while trying not to get violently sick. I failed on both counts. By the time I hung my backpack up, a mouse had already gotten inside where it got stuck for the night. And the effort of hanging the backpack overwhelmed my upset stomach and I threw up in the ash bucket for the wood stove. The elderly man in the next bunk probably thought I was the worst hut-mate in the world.