And then the winds changed

If Day #2 on BRAN, which started traveled from Cambridge to Alma, was a 10, then Day #3 would be nearly the opposite. Is there a -10 on the 0 to 10 scale?

I knew things did not look good when I awoke to the pitter-patter of rain at 4:30 a.m. Tuesday. That's when I pushed my non-riding husband out of the camper to put away all the chairs and bags so they wouldn't get wet.

But by the time we left, it was just cloudy. Oh, and did I mention winds...out of the east...the exact direction we were heading...blowing at 15-20 miles an hour...for the next 70 miles.

Still, I said a prayer of thanksgiving that at least it was not raining. With 15 miles under my belt, I checked in with my husband to see how the packing of the camper had gone. He said it was raining in Alma and that I had better speed up if I wanted to avoid it. Since I'm no Lance Armstrong, I knew I was going to get wet.

So along with the wind came the rain. Not ideal riding conditions. But it got better (or worse in this case) when I soon heard little pelts on my helmet. It was now hailing, raining and blowing and I still had 50 miles to go.

The hail quickly came to an end, the rain slowly stopped and my clothes eventually dried. But the wind continued to blow and blow and blow until the end.

By the end of the ride, I was fairly convinced that while I would finish this BRAN, I would never have a desire to ride across Iowa, Nebraska nor any other state with the exception of maybe Delaware or New Hampshire.

But like labor pains, maybe in time I'll forget the agony I felt during today's ride. But then again, maybe not.