The little road runs along the line of the Dent Fault. A colossal earth movement lifted the greywackes on the left upwards along the fault plane, where they remain today as the massive wedge of Calf Top. The limestones on the right were wrenched to an almost vertical position.
You have to step over this grave to go inside the church itself. George Hodgson died in 1715 and at 94 he was knocking on more than a bit. In fact, for weeks afterwards he was seen haunting the streets of Dent - putting the wind up the knitters and their hubbies, no doubt. So much so, in fact, that they dug him up and noticed he was growing fresh, pink skin, long hair and nasty nails. To finish this veritable vampire off for good - they hammered a stake through the stone into his heart - and so the hole can still be seen today - together with the almighty crack across the stone caused by the initial whack!
Just east of the village, following the valley of the Dee, we reach the ruin of Gibb's Hall. William Howitt (1792-1879) wrote 'The Rural Life of England' here - and his wife wrote 'Hope On - Hope Ever.' Very optimisitc of her. Let's hope she never met the vampire.
The ruin has a melancholy air about it - considering it was once such a centre of literature.
You should call at the farm next to the hall and ask permission to visit the legendary Hell's Cauldron. Years ago, when everyone got exctied about devils and vampires - they used to charge a fee to do this. Now - it's free - and it's more often than not a place of perfect peace. Just descend the field past these curious woollies.
Squeeze through a gap in the wall down to the usually dry bed of the River Dee, and turn left upstream. Watch out for red squirrels and ... if you're lucky ... otters.
You can, with care, clamber up the right hand bank and make your way to the pulpit, giving a tremendous view down into the depths of the cauldron.
The pool is over 20 feet deep and very strange. Unless it is in flood, when it's a raging torrent, a ribbon of water is entering all the time yet there is none visibly flowing out. This 'magic' no doubt asociated the cauldron with his satanic majesty. In truth, the cauldron leads into flooded cave passages beneath and only when they can't take all the water does the river flow over the surface.
Looking back to the lip of the fall - a rarely photographed angle. The Devil's Pulpit is just left of centre, on which I balanced to take the previous photograph, looking into the plunge pool.
In this kind of scenery - you let the pictures do the talking.