You know it’s raining when…

• I ditch my glasses. Better to have slightly blurry vision than try to see through speckled, foggy glasses.
• We can hear the ocean waves. We know they are there. We just can’t see them.
• We skip Cape Lookout.
• I change into dry socks at our breakfast stop. Oh, does that feel good.
• I have to peel my cycling gloves off my hands. It feels better without them.
• Rich has a dark stripe down his back – roadspray from his back tire. I’m not sure why I don’t.
• We don’t stop to chat with other long distance cyclists that we pass. A simple wave and a knowing look says it all.
• We hardly take any pictures. In fact, Rich has to use fake decoys for his “bird of the day.”
• I start taking to myself. Out loud. “Okay. Enough already. You can stop now.”
• I agree to skip the longer scenic route without an argument. Just getting there takes priority.
• Rich says it’s not a good day for ice cream.

You know you are lucky when…

• Rich has a blowout, and not a drop of rain falls while he replaces the innertube and tire. In fact, he sits on dry pavement.
• We can both grin and bear it.
• We reach the motel and the biggest downpour of the day comes while we are settling into our warm, dry room. Good thing we didn’t do that scenic detour after all.
• The front desk clerk is a closet gourmet, and keeps refilling a plate with homemade cookies.
• Rich praises my ziplock bag packing system.
• Tomorrow’s forecast looks much better.