Our long drive to Manchester started badly, a burst tyre on the M9. We think it was the M9 but it could've been a number of other roads. When these things happen on cross cutting motorways it's pretty hard to tell where you are and we failed. However the bloke from the AA seemed to know and thankfully got us out of an awkward predicament.
Eventually we made to the winding open roads of the Peak District, each one clogged with mad cyclists clad in black and covered in mud. Presumably townies out for their own kind of dirty weekend; slogging up hill and down dale and blocking up moving traffic. It's an interesting place, mild, stony and with good family connections made, highly enjoyable. I'm pretty tired now having just driven back, so more about the peaks and YSP tomorrow.