Conistone Dib and PIe.

The sound of Curlews calling and the Skylarks singing is still in my ears. I have just returned from a wonderful little walk over in Yorkshire. It was probably new to me; at least, I have no recollection of being there before. If I had to take a stranger on a Yorkshire Dales walk away from the crowds of Malham, Gordale or Burnsall, I would choose this one that I’m about to try and describe.

I’m not sure how it came into my radar, Conistone Dib rang a bell somewhere.

Parking in Conistone is discouraged, so I park by the bridge over the Wharfe. I’m here fairly early to secure a parking spot, as it’s half-term, and to get a head start before the heat of the day kicks in.  Pony trekkers are coming down the lane from the centre of the village.

The village is a mishmash of stone farms and cottages. I suspect many incomers have done up the properties, as elsewhere. There is a maypole in the central triangle; I’ve no idea whether it is used any more. I’m kicking myself for not visiting St Mary’s Church, built on the site of a medieval predecessor. Modern pews were incorporated in the 50’s, designed by Thompson of Kilburn, the church mouse man. He incorporated discrete mice into his works. Our family had a cheese board from him, a mouse was running up the handle. Now, where has that gone?

A gate leads into the limestone environment above the village. And all of a sudden, you are climbing a few rocky steps into a narrow gorge. There was once a watercourse that created this dramatic place. Its local name is Gurling Trough, reflecting the noise of water going down a drain. I’m already excited.

The walls of the gorge narrow as you thread through it. The path is rocky but not difficult.

At one point, I notice some discreetly placed bolts indicating a climbing route up the blank-looking rock.

White stonecrop plants grow in crevasses.

A lovely water-worn scoop gives a scramble out of the rocky ravine.

All of a sudden, you are in a grassy valley with scree slopes on either side. Ahead is a steep crag high up on the right. The back of my mind tells me I have climbed there years ago, but I have no recollection of having walked through that stunning gorge to get to it—time to check my diaries and climbing guides. Bull Scar.

I ponder this as I walk deeper into the valley. A lady dog walker appears from a gate. She lives in the village and is very proud of the area. So she should be. The way she came from is the easiest way up, but she tells me you can go straight up, which involves some rock climbing. Guess which way I go. T

There she goes down her valley.

My way narrows once more, and yes, there is some rock scrambling to gain the fell rim. A very satisfying end to the climb from the village.  The view back down is impressive.

I meet up with The Dales Way, a long-distance path from Ilkley to Windermere. I walked the route with The Pieman and The Eyeman back in 1981, but don’t remember being up here. I’m almost certain we just followed the Wharfe along the valley from Grassington to Kettlewell. Or is it my memory playing tricks again?

My planned route is to walk back along the Dales Way towards Grassington, but first, I make a short detour north to investigate Conistone Pie. Just off the main track is a ‘pie-shaped’  rocky pinnacle that is calling out to be climbed. I stand on the top, king of the castle, with excellent views up Wharfedale and across to Kilnsey Crag.

I find a sheltered spot below the rocks for an early lunch. A couple walking between Kettlewell and Grassington, come over to investigate and climb up – that’s them on the top.

They are from Sheffield, camping by the river in Kettlewell and enjoying this glorious spring weather. She has a lovely, drawn-out Yorkshire accent, reminiscent of Lucy Beaumont, the comedienne. I would think we chat for half an hour or so; nobody is in a rush up here on a perfect day. We stroll on together for a while, but I’m soon distracted by photographing the local flora.  They wander off towards Grassington.

The cowslips and orchids are past their best, but there are good displays of Bird’s Foot Trefoil, Tormentil, Buttercups, Daisies, Violas, Speedwells, and many more I don’t recognise. “Look how they shine for you”

The warm sunny day has all the skylarks in the area singing away up high, and there is a constant background calling of the curlews. They put a spring in your step as you march along this elevated limestone balcony.

Looking at the map, it is annotated everywhere in that antiquated print: Hut Circles, Cairns, Ancient Settlements, Field Enclosures.   Of course, none of these is easy to identify with an untrained eye. I try hard and perhaps discern some of the paths of some linear walls. A drone would be useful but totally intrusive.

Sheep are pretending to be stones.

But most impressive are the relatively modern stone walls criss-crossing the plateau—a symbol of the Dales.

Few trees survive up here. I like this one.

Dropping down towards Grassington, there is the site of a medieval village marked on the map, but I don’t go that far. Another time, it would be worth carrying on to explore and maybe have some refreshments in the village before returning through Grass Wood, renowned for its Bluebells in season.

I do a U-turn and head back along the escarpment, but lose my intended path and end up on a smaller trail through Bastow Wood. A blessing in disguise, as I enjoy the shade and the variety of broad-leaved trees and a different flora.

I emerge back onto the open limestone ground and pick up my intended track. This turns out to be a spectacular wander back down to Conistone. First, it winds down between blossoming hawthorns.

Then across the head of a deep dry valley, Dib Scar.

I’m rewarded with a bird ‘s-eye view of the crags down its southern bank. There must be climbing on those steep 25m walls. (The guidebook lists lots of  hard routes, some now bolted, but all too difficult for me, which is probably why the whole valley is new to me)

There’s a whole lifetime of climbing down there.

The path goes along the flank of the valley before breaking away through fields straight back into Conistone village. That’s Kilnsey Crag and Great Whernside in the distance.

The curlews are a constant companion, and I have the varied limestone flora at my feet all the way. I’ve just identified this plant, which has been abundant throughout the day. Crosswort.

Those six or seven miles have been a delight. I would recommend this walk to those of you who, misguidedly, read my posts for inspiration. I apologise for all those photos of rock faces. You know where I come from.

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