It was cold and drizzling at camp in Holly Ridge. As I was packing up all my stuff, a nice lady walked her dog by and said, “I guess summer is over.” I laughed and thought, “Yeah, it’s been over for me for quite some time now.”

The radar showed rain all day as well as some more headwind. It was only a 35 mile day, so I didn’t care. I put my head down and hit the road to town. As soon as I turned back onto my beloved 17, I felt the wind position itself for another “fun” day. The rain started to come down, and I stopped in a small town for some breakfast after a long 8 miles. The rain didn’t really let up at all, so after getting my fill, I suited up and kept rolling.

Without my maps, I had to keep pulling out my phone to try and figure out where I was going. My soaked hands and the rain didn’t help with the whole touch-screen thing; neither did my missed turns and wrong directions. Sometimes I rode on sidewalks, but some parts of the main roads didn’t have them, so I was forced into becoming part of the traffic flow through heavy sections of town. I would stay as close as I could to the curb–pretty sketchy at some points, and those puddles would pool up very nicely right in my path.

At one point, I was kicking off the curb and coasting past some cars to get up front at a stoplight. I didn’t want to be in their way, and those little safe haven islands that come with some stop lights are always good points to figure out your next move. Well, I was kicking my way through a dark puddle, when I looked a little bit ahead to see some metal where the typical concrete curb should be. Half a second later, I realized I was heading right towards a sewage section, and half a second after that my front wheel wedged itself directly in one of the holes in the grate. Luckily, everything swung curbside. My back wheel went up and the trailer smashed into the side. Somehow, I had caught myself from falling face-first into the ground, and I also managed to not slam into the cars next to me. After that, I went extra slow and kept checking my wheel for issues.

I got into the Wilmington area about mid-day. The rain never stopped, and I was starting to get cold. My friend, Hannah, lives just south of Wilmo in Carolina Beach. She was kind enough to take me in for a night, and so I went straight through town to her place and hunkered down under any shelter I could find.

She pulled up after a long day of teaching 2nd graders to a soaking wet mess shivering outside of her door. She really took care of me. I got a nice warm shower, got to clean all of my clothes, and she even offered her place as a delivery point for my backpack. LB had shipped my forgotten bag to her place, and we timed it just right.