IN comparison with mountain ranges overseas and indeed in other parts of Britain, the loftiest parts of our dales and moors seem insignificant, if some tourist brochures are to be believed. Nonetheless, we are immensely proud of our dales, fells and moors and there is little doubt that last year’s visit by the Tour de France helped to highlight the wonders of our "English Alps".

That was the name given to a part of our northern uplands by JS Fletcher, author of A Picturesque History of Yorkshire (1901). The relevant hills formed part of the Pennine range, long described as the Backbone of England. It was an area which, at the time of publication of that book, formed the meeting point of four English counties – Yorkshire, Durham, Cumberland and Westmorland. The county boundary changes of 1974 altered all that.

Until then, one of Yorkshire’s highest peaks was within that general area – it is Mickle Fell, which rises to 2,591ft, but in the 1974 boundary changes, it was transferred to County Durham. It stands majestically a mile and a half north of Brough, with Cauldron Snout and Cow Green Reservoir not far away, as the proverbial crow flies.

I came across this information while trying to discover the finest view in this region. The view from Mickle Fell is said to include at least 30 summits which each rise to more than 2,000ft above sea level, and it is also claimed that the mountains of the Lake District can be seen and identified. Skiddaw, Helvellyn and the Langdale Pikes are all visible, as well as the outlines of Whernside and Ingleborough in the Dales. In all, a splendid view.

Brimham Rocks, near Pateley Bridge, in Nidderdale, also provide extensive views across the landscape and it is claimed York Minster can be seen, as well as other features in the Vale of York. During one visit, I searched for York Minster but low cloud prevented a successful result, although Brimham’s own rocks demand our attention. Many provide amazing balancing acts and when, some years ago, we took our grandchildren, they had a marvellous time galloping around the rock shapes and hiding from us. But we found them.

On the subject of York Minster, the top of its central tower affords amazing views of York City and its immediate environs but this involves a climb of 275 steps up the tower, with the expectation of long distance views towards the wolds, dales, moors and coast. The last time I did that, the haze in the distance obscured the finest views, but the sight of this ancient city from such a vantage point is worth the effort.

The Yorkshire Dales themselves offer several vantage points, some involving steep climbs, but in all cases the resultant views are worthwhile, if only to recognise some of the distant hills, towns, castles or other structures or landscapes.

One of my most enjoyable drives was a return trip from the Lake District, the journey taking me through Wensleydale, from Garsdale Head, down to Leyburn and then along to Bedale and Leeming Bar. The long, descending route from Garsdale via Hawes, Askrigg and Aysgarth was made all the more enjoyable because my car radio was playing Elgar’s wonderful Nimrod from his Enigma Variations. It was a long time ago, but I think it was my first real introduction to the power of his music, which was so perfect for that long view of the wonders of Wensleydale, with its expansive views in the light of a summer evening.

Wensleydale offers more vantage points, a popular one being the famous Shawl at Leyburn, with views towards the splendour and mystery of Penhill and the winding route of the River Ure. Penhill itself provides spectacular views, with the bonus of a folk tale about its giant, while a similar trip down Swaledale, via Muker and Gunnerside, offers more rugged views of our dales landscape.

Richmond is always worth a visit, with views from the castle which are said to be breathtaking, overlooking the ancient streets of Richmond and the cascading River Swale.

The Yorkshire coast offers yet more remarkable views, perhaps with the scene from Ravenscar towards Robin Hood’s Bay being the best among many, including the sight of Whitby Abbey from Sandsend.

Elevated parts of the North York Moors can also offer tremendous views. One from Bilsdale at Clay Bank provides a dazzling night-time panorama of the illuminated, industrial Teesside.

One of the most enjoyable drives is from Castleton towards Hutton le Hole with an enormous expanse of Yorkshire countryside before you, while a parking place at Ampleforth Beacon gives a view across to Fylingdales early warning station to the east and, if you turn around to face the opposite direction, you can see another such establishment at Menwith Hill beyond Harrogate. It presents a combined view of around 65 miles.

This is by no means a comprehensive account of Yorkshire’s finest views, but a drive across the Wolds presents some stunning, calm scenery – while the view into our garden is fascinating!

Little climbers

Among the many visitors to our bird feeders during the snows of early February was a treecreeper. Some years ago, when we had three poplar trees in the garden, treecreepers were regular visitors as they searched for insects in the crevices of the bark. Now, with no poplars, their visits have been fewer.

Not much larger than a blue tit but smaller than a great tit, this busy little bird is easily recognisable by its mottled brown back and wings, white underparts and a stiff downward sloping tail. Its most recognizable feature is its long slender downward curving beak with which it probes crevices in tree bark in its never-ending search for insects.

Its stiff tail is used as a support when climbing trees. When it reaches the top, it will fly down to the base of another tree and start another climb. Unlike a nuthatch, it never climbs head first down a tree.

Although it depends heavily on insects of all kinds for sustenance, it will eat seeds when food is short, often those found in pine cones. In our case, it joined the blue tits on our peanuts feeder; apparently, treecreepers will join blue tits in winter.

Treecreepers are with us all the year round and can be found in most areas of this country. One of their favourite resting places is behind loose bark on tree trunks, or perhaps roosting in the shelter of heavy and dense ivy leaves. They are not noted for singing but may issue a long, thin, squeaky note as a call rather than a song, although it has a pleasant song rather like that of a chaffinch.

By one of those odd coincidences which occur sometimes, as I broke for my afternoon cuppa, thinking I had completed this paragraph, a treecreeper was calling from a tree in our garden, his white underparts making him readily identifiable.