Sue Woodcock: A packed week, with high notes and hidden depths

I was asked to talk to the Dallowgill WI and, as my friend had never visited Brimham Rocks, I suggested we call there on our way.

I always enjoy marvelling at the power of nature when I see how the wind, water and climate have eroded them to such a fantastic display.

The rain stopped, we explored, had a cup of tea and then took the road over towards Kirkby Malzeard.

This took us down a narrow lane where a mass of purple orchids were in bloom beside the road. We came out onto a wild, windswept moor with very little in the way of human habitation but swathes of purple heather.

At Dallowgill a farmer told me that the tower on top of the nearby hill celebrated the killing of the last wolf in the area in 1670. The whole place is steeped in history.

I had been told that it was only to be a small group but the people kept coming until the quite sizeable chapel was full.

When I began my talk I explained that I had been promised we would sing Jerusalem, so we did.

The next day was just as full. Sheepdog Tess who had been staying with me was collected by her owner and my friend and I did some mucking out before setting out up the dale to explore for cave entrances.

We stopped at Starbotton, crossed the river then hastily got out of the way with the dogs while the local shepherds gathered a large flock of sheep and drove them across the bridge to another pasture.

At Buckden fell we had a great walk with hardly another soul in sight. Looking down into the valley the panorama unfolded. The sun was shining and the dogs (for once) were well behaved.

Sheep were being clipped at the farm beneath us and there was a constant bleating to be heard for miles.

My older collie, Froyle, was getting very tired as we headed back for the car and once home the dogs crashed out and we had a peaceful evening.

The next day was fun too. We timed it just right to do a short but pleasant caving trip in a beautifully decorated cave up at Yockenthwaite.

Having emerged wet but happy my friend took me to one of the few traditional pubs in the Dales for the best pie and peas lunch, before attempting to clip two remaining sheep that had previously eluded me who were not at all cooperative.

Halfway through the first one the heavens decided to open in style.

I always thought there was a maximum size to raindrops but I was wrong. In minutes we were soaked, but I finished one very soggy sheep before admitting defeat.

On the way home we visited Coniston church for my friend to see the memorial to the six cavers who died in Mossdale Caverns over 40 years ago.

A final trip saw us looking for the remains of a crashed Wellington bomber that lies close to Mossdale – a pleasant if rather long walk in stunningly isolated but beautiful surroundings.

We stopped and ate sandwiches by Gill House Beck and found the remains of one aircraft wheel and a strut.

The dogs coped well and after about 11 miles we ended up at home. I then had to rush off for a final rehearsal for the concerts.

We were disappointed at Ilkley Moor to see the rubbish and graffiti at the Cow and Calf rocks. The paths were poorly maintained, there was evidence of fly tipping and the bracken is overgrown, making route-finding difficult.

We were unable to find the cup and ring stones or the fossils. This could be so wonderful but not at the moment.

Our concerts played to full houses and I think the audience enjoyed them as much as we did. The TV programme The Dales filmed one which may be shown in March.

The only problems for us were vicious midges. Down by the river at Hubberholme and even at Threshfield they obviously saw a feast assembling.

They don’t like me, thankfully.