R16 10 Fox and the Hound and the Pizza Burger

This was called the Fox Den when we were there...

It was time for lunch! And by lunch I mean beer! 

We found a table in the empty restaurant and plopped ourselves and all of our equipment down. The waitress came over and asked us what we'd like to drink. And, instead of asking her to run through all the scores of mediocre beers she had on offer, we walked over to the cooler. And next to the cooler, was the walk in cooler, so we just went on in there too. 

Yup, two gross lady cyclists luxuriating in the hyper chilled air of the walk in cooler. Perfectly normal for a Wednesday at 11am. 

Coors Light was the best option. We also ordered large glasses of water and a pitcher of ice water. Just keep 'em coming. 

Then, we had to decide on food. Pretty standard bar fare, but the special was a pizza burger. Steven's eyes lit up! Delicious. I kept it simple. Maybe a BLT or a chicken sandwich. I needed the maximum amount of salt but the least amount of digestion. 

We procured the wireless password and set down to taking care of business. 

Business time.

There is a lot that has to be done during breaks. Beers need drank. Water needs drank. Sunscreen needs to be reapplied. Beaver fam needs to be updated. Photos must be taken. Reorganization must happen. It seems like rest breaks would be restful, but until you get all your beaver business done, there's no time for staring off into space, dreaming of breezy afternoons on sail boat, the sound of the sail fabric luffing, floating beside red cliffs and pine trees, above an inland sea of fresh, cool water, cold beer in hand...

Wait, what? Sorry. I'm back. And you have to go to the bathroom, and reapply chamois butter, and snapchat. 

Soon enough our food arrived and we tucked in. Steven's pizza burger was an initial disappointment. Just marinara sauce and some grated mozzarella on a regular burger, but in the end, it was delicious and she was happy. 

Beaver burger

I could have moved to Stuart. It was a nice town. Did we really have to leave? 

Thankfully, there was the pull of many small towns in between here and there. Just 8 miles to Menlo. Then another 9 or so to Casey. Then about 11 into Adair. Then just a swoop into Anita. Easy. Right? 

At least, that's what Steven said as she dragged me back out into the sweltering waste land. We loaded our bikes, mounted up, and continued our journey west.