Typical, isn’t it? You trek through an alien wilderness for untold weeks, take a rest stop at an ancient waystation on the brink of a fathomless canyon, restock your rickety wagon with supplies and an unusually large number of oversized firebrands, feed up the strong yet grumpy ultra-oxen ready for the next leg of your endless journey, then set out in the early morning of a cold new day … only to find the bridge is out.
Graham Edwards 