Farm on the M62: Perfect life on the moor for our cows - Jill Thorp

The cows seem to be enjoying life out on the moor and so far have stayed within their invisible boundary fence. It’s quite a novelty for us, driving up the motorway and spotting them grazing, the calves leaping around exploring their new surroundings.

The bull, who had caused us so much worry when he was indoors is completely at home out there. His stress at being housed throughout the winter, or anybody unknown coming into the cow shed has gone as he now enjoys long sunny days looking down on God’s own. It’s so strange to see an animal of such size and stature up there, his sheer bulk moving at ease amongst the heather and bilberry, scaling the steep slopes at his leisure. I wonder when the last time was that cattle grazed that particular moor, certainly not in the last thirty years since Paul has been involved with the farm. Whilst Ken, the previous tenant, had cattle, it’s unlikely he ever pushed them up beyond what is known as “the big wall piece”. Whilst sheep grazed this lonely stretch of moorland that reaches right up to the border with the dark side, there are no records, no photos of cattle everywhere being up there. His family came to Stott Hall Farm in1934, when Ken was a small boy. It was well before any motorway invasion, no bulldozers and destruction, just quiet emptiness. The reservoir that can now be seen to the north of the farm was still the beautiful, tranquil wooded valley of Booth Dean Clough, with a small river meandering it’s way down from the high ground. There would have been far fewer, if any grazing restrictions for livestock, however, it’s unlikely they’d have sent the few cows they had that far from the farm. Historic grazing rights exist for Rishworth common but it’ll take a bit of digging to discover when, if any livestock other than sheep once roamed up there prior to Paul turning out our herd of suckler cows.

Last weekend saw the little guy heading off early with his Dad to Gisburn market, loaded up with our shearling ewes. With the current Bluetongue virus wreaking havoc amongst farmers in the West country, it was hard to gauge what interest there would be. There was the concern of mixing them with other sheep, especially if they didn’t sell and ended up coming home. I sent four of my Leicester girls, hoping there would be good trade for them. As it turned out, I needn’t have worried as there was plenty of interest and one of them topped the prices that day. The little guy phoned excitedly to inform me of the trade whilst quickly dropping hints of needing a new tup. After all, with such good money for my Leicesters we could afford to get him a new tup. This came as no surprise to me as it’s completely impossible for him to go to market with the intention of selling and not buying whilst he’s there. Why come home with an empty wagon?! However, on this occasion they did come home with an empty wagon and in good time. Whilst the little guy sat relaying to me the entire day, obviously stressing the importance of his time spent in the market cafe and the quality of his breakfast, Paul headed out for the night to catch up with friends or as the little guy put it “to hit the beer”