Yorkshire Dales

On Saturday, May 26, Mary and I drove to the Yorkshire Dales, about an hour and a half to the north of us in (duh!) North Yorkshire. This was a new area for us, through territory we hadn't traversed before.

Meadow welcoming committee

The portion of the National Park we explored is noted for the wide range of topography in such a small area. A major geological fault line through the area causes the land and vegetation to change rather dramatically within just a few meters.

Suddenly it's woodland

Most of what is pictured here was all within one, 5-mile hike. The rest was only a short drive away.

Janet's Foss

From the National Park Centre in the village of Malham we walked first through a flat meadow with 18th century dry stone barns.

Goredale Scar

Within 100 meters we entered a rocky wooded area with a running stream and caves. A half mile later we were in a gorge, called Gordale Scar, with a waterfall before us.

Gordale Falls

Walking on up hill across the moors, we rambled through flocks of sheep grazing in the scrub grass. This land is both too steep and too rocky to cultivate, and has been used only as grazing land for many hundreds of years.

Rambling through the sheep paddocks

We came to a deeply cracked limestone pavement that drops off sharply in cliffs that drop to Malham Cove. There were 240 very worn and slippery steps down. Listening to the heavy breathing of the people we met, we were glad to be going down rather than up!

Limestone pavement and the cliffs
(Harry Potter slept here)

After our hike, we drove a few miles up hill to Malham Tarn. The Tarn is a glacial lake that is, strangely, at the top of the range of hills, rather than the bottom.

Malham Cove

It is said to be the highest lake in England, and to be one of the very few alkaline lakes in Europe. It is spring-fed and very clear.

Malham Tarn

We drove nearly an hour on very narrow, twisting roads to visit Gibson Mill at Hardcastle Crags. It was a nice, wooded spot, but the old factory for spinning imported cotton into thread was less than exciting. We were home for supper.