It is possible, at this time of year, to travel through time on a bike. Riding uphill for an hour or so takes you back a week or two earlier in the spring; the trees are a little barer, the lambs a wee bit younger, the air a couple of degrees cooler. Then, riding over the fells, the sun, when it appears, diffused by the Pennine haze; that indefinable stuff that is not quite fog, not quite mist, not quite low cloud, it can be easy to lose track of where you are in the day; a lunchtime spin can feel more like a dawn or dusk outing. It’s not just time of day that gets blurry; Is it really January before last, dark outside and snow on the ground, that at least one bike rider was bouncing off the walls of their workplace on discovering the biggest bike race in the world was coming through their local patch, is it really that long since the latest deadine passed, is it really a month since anything last got posted on this blog? It would be good if the seasonal time travelling abilities of the bike could be finessed a little to go back and relive some moments, avoid others, and try not to get so behind with some stuff. It would be good if on Monday when this photo was taken I could have gone back in time a few minutes to when Marcel Kittel and his Giant-Shimano team mates passed over the moor in the other direction just after me during their Easter Yorkshire reconnaisance trip, racing to the coffee shop in Harrogate. Still, Kittel will be back here in July and in the meantime the ‘I don’t care where I am or what time of day or year it is or about relativity or anything else while I’m doing this’ qualities of riding a bike around the countryside are still good enough for me.