The anticipated rain hammered the area all night, continuing through the morning. Yet my energy levels were up, and spending the day at the edge of town I found … unappealing.
Weather forecasts for the day were all over the map! I finally determined that while rain fell at my current location and destination, the intervening space was clear, likely for the next 4 hours. I had 60 km to my next destination, a lovely hostel I’d stumbled across when looking for a hotel, and a break in the rain. Time to go!
After a quick ride out of town I routed onto smaller roads. After the night’s rain, they turned to slush and mud. My progress slowed as I dealt with the quagmire that had been my road. Eventually I found myself walking, slower than riding but far less work than fighting the bicycle in the mud.
By the time I emerged from the mud onto asphalt there was no way I’d outrun the rain. Yet, somehow, I did! As I stepping into the hostel, the sky opened up behind me with torrential rain.
Check-in at the hostel was quick (mostly automated). I settled in to one of the nicest hostels I’ve ever stayed at. Late in the evening two travelers from the UK arrived, here in this small town that proclaims itself, “the home of the blues”. Well, that explained why tourists might come to this rural town.
