How lazy can one get? I hardly stirred myself to go to the next door restaurant for breakfast. I didn't even care that they were jam packed and the service was extra slow. We shared a big table with another couple who had purchased a Sunday newspaper that they generously gave us. We read the paper while we waited for our food. It was a good thing we had the newspaper as it took an hour to get our food. We were in full bicycle tourist mode when we ordered our food. I had the Garbage Browns (hashbrowns with a bit of everything). We shared an order of pancakes. All of that food wasn't necessary since it was a rest day. We had plenty of leftovers for later.

We walked back to the hotel. I called everyone I knew on the cell phone. I felt very unloved as not a single person remembered my birthday tomorrow. I had been feeling increasingly unsettled during our bike ride. I wasn't sure why. It was quite puzzling. I loved the cycling. Jacinto and I were getting along fine. So why did I have the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach? It went blurp, blurp in the mornings and I could hardly keep my breakfast down.

I thought having a rest day with a real bed (and sheets!) would make me feel better. It didn't. I had too much time to get homesick calling everyone back home.

We spent major time pouring over maps trying to decide our route once we were out of the Sawtooth Mountains.

I took a two hour nap. Jacinto watched TV and listened to the game. We ate the leftovers. There were enough that we didn't have to go for dinner.

Jacinto loves to walk after we get to town. Not just a stroll down the street - but major miles walking. He would have walked the several miles back down the road to a hotel with a hot springs. I was semi interested in the hot springs, but not enough to back track to go there. I know, it's some physiological deficit I have. I must really be lazy at heart.

I talked to Mittens the cat. Mittens was very hairy and friendly.

I piddled around with my bike. We spoke with some motorcycle riders who were also staying at the motel about routing. This group of riders looked like the rough type, but were nice. The two I spoke with were truck drivers taking a long weekend for the holiday.

Jacinto and agreed to get up at 5 AM. We had coffee in the room and a microwave for oatmeal. No need to wait for the very slow restaurant to open.

When we made our reservations at the hotel there was exactly one room left, a suite. At $88. it seemed like an extravagance, but in teeny, tiny Garden Valley I knew we were lucky to find anything at all. The advantage to our splurge is that I got to go to sleep in the bedroom with the door shut while Jacinto listened to the TV at his desired volume. I was in bed at 11 PM. The sheets felt mighty fine.