The Moor (Part 2)

Grinton Moor, to give the moor its google search engine hitvisits optimisation name, Cogden Moor to give the more locally specifically accurate name to the north side of the moor across which the road descends down into the valley, or Robin Cross Hill, to give the name which appears on the blue pointy profile thingy of the first day of next year’s Tour de France is quite a long way from France, and when the daylight is fading, the road is icy and the air is freezing it seems quite a long way from Grinton as well but that is OK as some days it is in fact colder in the valley than on the moors. Some days it just feels that way because the sun doesn’t climb high enough to reach the valley floor, some days is is actually that way and the cloud forms from the ground upwards rather than the sky downwards. Either way it means that to maximise your vitamin D uptake and minimise your seasonal affective disorder symptoms for that day then being somewhere elevated is counter-intuitively good for you and you need to rise, Icarus like, as close to the sun as you can get, as close as you can get considering that the higher roads giving you the best chance to soak up the solar rays with your wings of wax are likely to be experiencing a much poorer ratio of grippy tarmac to ice, the person considering trying to ride up them the day after christmas is suffering from a much poorer ratio of power to weight, a ratio which in common with many no doubt has has not been moving in the right direction for a few weeks now, and the ratio of the amount of the descent that you will be likely to have to walk down having dismounted in either a voluntary and precautionary fashion or a less voluntary and more improvisational style as a result of a couple of nights of hard frost on very wet surface is not looking great either so you do the maths, think of how little time you’ve spent by your own fireside lately, keep things local and save your great escape for another day.

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