Me? Struggling? Well it was soooooo bad that I was dropped on the Old Road and suffered the ignominy of being offered a gel to get me back home which was all downhill. It started out well enough, rain with no prospect of relief, a head-down pull through Skipton then Grassington and before you know it you are in Lyttondale and there is no going back other than over the top to Settle. The way back was wetter if that is possible, a contributing headwind, long turns on the front gradually got shorter, until I couldn't make any gesture to such by Keighley. Ingrow grew as it went on, as it can do from time to time, then the slope up to windmills not only grew but steepened. It seemed to make sense to go up it a bit like a tractor ploughing a sloping field, only there is a point to ploughing a field, and I did not have much in the way of a point in mind when i was trying to go up the hill. I have not ridden since. Even today I took one look at the snow and went back to bed. Neil the Indomitable no doubt went to the start and rode, maybe The Condor too. Nigel the Baster I know did not, maybe sympathising with my wasted reputation he too stayed back at home this morning rather than enter The Passage. Besides, he will have had some marinade to rub into something. For those that did not ride today anything doing tomorrow. I am going out in the cold fog, maybe to repeat the ploughing up Bowland Knots or some such, accompanied by the calling of a murder of crows.