The Weather Channel has become my evening and morning channel of choice. The channel was new to me but now I am able to distinguish the perky blonde heads that all really look alike. I have learned that the local forecast comes on at the “8s” so that is when I pay attention. This morning the “ours is better than yours” radar showed a major thunderstorm just east of us. And, of course, the wind was coming from the east, so the storm was headed our way. We decided to wait until 9:30 to start riding so lightning wouldn't strike us down.

About as it looked clear, Nicole noticed her little bicycle computer was missing. We must have knocked it off when we put the bikes on the van last night. She and Dottie headed back to look for it while Dan and I started riding.

As we rode through town, there were Swedish flags hanging everywhere. At a stop light, a guy in his 30's wearing a business suit struck up a conversation. He asked where we were riding and we let him know about New Jersey. He just gave us a “you dumbass” smile. The light changed and we started riding, but I asked him about the flags. “Swedish festival.” Sorry we were going to miss that.

As we rode out of town, we noticed something else. The wind was still blowing like hell. And, as Perky 1 predicted on TWC (that's The Weather Channel, if you aren't weather hip like me) the cross wind was 20-30 MPH from the south, south east. So basically, the wind is trying to blow us over and push us back to Colorado. I wasn't happy and neither was Dan.

We pedaled hard but hardly went anywhere. We were churning along at 11-13 MPH when we should have been going 16-19. It was wearing us out fast.

The highlight of the day was riding through the town of Funk, population 204. On US Highway 6 in Nebraska, there is a small town about every 10 miles and they each have a farmers co-op grain elevator. Funk is no different. Growing up in a farm community, a prized possession was a Funk G Hybrid corn seed cap. I didn't have one, but my true farmer friends did. I was hoping the town of Funk would be home to the seed and there would be caps lying on the streets. I still don't have a Funk hat, just a picture of Dan near the town sign, which they posted extra high on a pole. I guess Funk town signs are prized possessions too.

We kept riding and I kept bitching at the cross wind. After 20 miles we pulled into a small town and got some needed refreshment. I went for my first Coca-Cola of the trip, hoping the caffeine and sugar would get me going. As we got ready to go, it started raining. We stood by gas pumps for protection from the drops. The rain let up soon and we took off.

Nicole and Dottie soon drove by and said they didn't find the computer. So they went north to Kearny to buy a new one. By the time they got back Dan and I were ready for lunch, so we pulled off the road and had our usual ham sandwich and banana. Nicole was ready to ride, so off we went into the wind.

After almost two hours, I was getting tired and I could tell Dan was wearing down. He decided to call it a day and I could have easily been talked into stopping too. Nicole was still plenty fresh, so I decided to join her for another 12 miles and then we called it quits.

It is strange that I rode almost 70 miles but felt like I somehow failed because I didn't make 100 today. A little over a month ago 70 was the most I had done in one day for almost five years.

Yesterday I beat the wind. Today, it won.

Dan tries to get out of Funk.

The winds blew in some funky clouds.