And then Winter came…..

Winter flipped the script completely. After that endless dry stretch, the skies finally opened and didn’t seem to close again. Rain marched in for weeks, carried sideways by proper Yorkshire wind that cuts straight through gloves and good intentions. Higher up, the moors and peaks caught dustings of snow, then ice, turning early rides into sketchy, slow-motion affairs where every puddle was a gamble. Trails that baked solid all summer softened, darkened, and went back to their usual muddy, character-building selves. Tyres hummed less, squelched more. But the land looked alive again. Reservoirs quietly swelled back to the brim, rivers found their voice, and the brown, tired edges of autumn gave way to deep winter greens. Hard riding? Absolutely. But seeing the water return felt like the reset everything and everyone needed.