We’re back in the land of fried bread for breakfast. These are my people. The fried-bread-for-breakfast type of people. There must be something about higher altitudes that necessitates meeting a grease quota early in the day because we’ve never encountered this on the coast. Two pieces of these fried treats and we’re good until lunch.
And if we’re still hungry we can always have some jerky that’s been drying in the open air. Or a little guinea pig that’s been splayed out spread-eagle, like it did a belly-flop onto a plate of corn.
The rest of the day we were treated to mountain vistas as we went up and over one mountain, down and through a valley, and half-way up the other side.
We stop early for the day to watch the sunset on the mountains. We lay out the blanket and end up falling asleep. We’re up on a hill, camping out in the open, but where no one will see us. This is one of my favorite parts of bicycle touring, all the beautiful, spontaneous places we spend our nights.