Real Dales

A straw poll of walkers would surely reveal Swaledale to be their favourite of the Yorkshire Dales.

It's well suited to a bike ride too, as you can find out on this 40-mile ride. I parked in a small car park in a layby in the village of Marske, west of Richmond and followed the sign to Reeth.

The first section, up and over steep hill, is one of the most punishing but does afford appetising views over the village and into Swaledale, more of which later.

I had barely cycled far enough to warrant a rest but couldn't resist the many tea shops in Reeth so stopped for a quick cuppa. At the top of the green, opposite The Buck Inn, lies Langhorn House which was used as Skeldale House in the 1974 film of All Creatures Great and Small starring Simon Ward.

You need to turn right at the pub, signposted to Arkengarthdale. Lead ore mining began here more than 700 years ago. Production peaked in the mid-nineteenth century when the population of villages such as Langthwaite - through which you pass - was six times greater than it is today.

Cheap imports harmed the region's industry, though, to the extent that mining ceased in 1890, the miners and their families moving to the Durham coalfields or down to the textile mills in the south.

In medieval times the area was a hunting forest, roamed by deer, wild bear and wolves. They have long since gone, but the loneliness and harshness associated with such animals remains, the moors to the north of the road stretching out like a great brooding, brown sea.

At last, and without forewarning, the Tan Hill Inn comes into view which, after 16 miles cycling, is a welcome sight. As every self-respecting Yorkshireman knows, this is the highest inn in England, perched at 1,732 above sea level.

You certainly wouldn't build a pub in this sort of remote, inhospitable place today but in earlier centuries it was perfectly located at the junction of paths used by cattle drovers, pack-horse ponies, pedlars and other travellers.

The customers may have changed but the austerity of the living conditions for residents remains. In severe winters the pub can be cut off by drifting snow for days at a time and the beer has been known to freeze in the pipes!

There were no such problems when I visited, thankfully, and after a fine steak I was on my way again. Soon after leaving the pub, turn left down a road that gradually trickles its way over a barren landscape down towards Swaledale. To your left, dotted all around, are the byres which characterise the region, their uniformity and neat, pitched roofs reminiscent of houses on a Monopoly board.

Most now are ruins. At the bottom of a very steep hill turn left towards Keld. It's worth de-touring at the youth hostel - where James Herriot once stayed with his son, Jimmy - to explore this wonderfully still place and the nearby Kisdon Force waterfall if you have time.

The village's only pub has long since closed down and it's never had a church. For this reason the dead had to be carried for 12 miles around Kisdon Hill on the so-called Corpse Road for burial in the nearest consecrated ground at Grinton. After such ground became available at Muker in 1580 the journey was considerably reduced.

Keld is the Norse word for "spring", Thwaite means "forest clearing" and Muker, the third in this hat-trick of unspoilt villages, translates as "narrow field". All of them - and The Farmer's Arms at Muker - will tempt you to linger as you zip along the B6270 which lines the bottom of the Swale ("swift") valley.

Cross the river at Gunnerside and then make your way back to Reeth. Here, I have to admit that my legs were aching and as I contemplated over a well-earned cream tea, this should perhaps have been the start and finish point of the ride. But, like it or not, my car was parked at Marske, another seven sapping miles away. I reached it via Grinton and, finally, by turning left just after the junction with the A6108. I finished exhausted - but the bath that followed was all the more cherished as a result.