Since early morning, heavy clouds have been passing through camp, threatening us with rain. Only in the last half hour has their decision changed, an ever increasing pitter-patter of droplets can be heard on our tin kitchen roof. I finish my dinner and tell my staff to hold off from starting charcoal for our cobbler dutch oven feast while I scout weather conditions. A quick jaunt up to our meadow reveals just how socked in we are— looks like we are making eight cakes tonight. When a Scout has had their expectations set on cobbler for 12 days, cake is severely lacking in culinary appeal. I have had to deliver worse news though, perhaps I'll even get a small slice.