Last fall while touring in Central America I prayed for rain. Didn't get enough of it. Rain meant a break from repressive heat.

Fifteen years ago on my first tour while grinding up a 9% grade in Arizona, fighting torrential sideways rain in 40mph crosswinds, a gust blew me over sideways into the mud. I stood up and yelled at the top of my lungs, "THIS F***ING SUCKS!!!" About 20 minutes later I was coasting down the backside with a slight tailwind, no rain, amidst beautiful white puffy clouds and occasional sunshine. That last part wouldn't have been nearly as enjoyable without the first part.

Take the good with the bad. The bad makes great stories later, and in the end, it's all good.