Season of Mists lived up to its name this year with inversions spreading out beneath us as we climbed up to the Causeway, the group thinning more rapidly than my hair, ending up withe seven of us who dipped and dug our way over the Lancashire fells without pause and much idle banter ... Graeme took the place of Alex this year as the group's 'blow up', though he made it to Colden before his legs gave up responding to his head,  I nearly echoed the condition on the very last rise near Blake Dean as Melvin and Chris put the foot on the pedal, yet, I hung on, anxious to get back for what, in the end, this ride is all about ....  the rice pudding ..... Ta to Chris et al., as ever, for organising