Blitzing the Buttertubs

LAST week, I went to Britain's highest pub. Or did I?

The Cat and Fiddle, at the top of the eponymous and much sensationalised mountain pass, does a great pint, but it's not the only bar claiming to give you the highest altitude for your ale. Depending on how you measure it, you'll have to head instead to Yorkshire, more than eighty miles further north, for the Tan Hill Inn.

In all honesty, I'm not really that fussed as to which one's highest - it's not as though they're next door to each other - but having battled the hairpin bends and tricky turns to reach both, I'd say it's the Tan Hill that feels higher. Come here on a wet day and it's a wild, desolate wildnerness offering views right across the Dales towards Cumbria.

Better still, it's more fun to get to, because it's in a part of Yorkshire which remains delightfully deserted even in the middle of a Bank Holiday weekend. If this were the Cat and Fiddle Run, my rear mirror would be filled with bikers and my windscreen with camera vans, but in this captivating corner of the Yorkshire Dales there was nothing. Just mile upon mile of empty roads.

The Tan Hill is well worth tracking down if you're ever up there, but I wasn't all the way up in Yorkshire for a beer. Nor had I taken a Renault 5 via Ribblehead because I wanted to revive memories of racing the Settle express towards Carlisle. Nope, I was here for the Buttertubs Pass.

I could try explaining its appeal, but someone off Top Gear's already done a much better job. Here's Jezza:



P.S: He's definitely got the right idea doing a drive this challenging in an Escort Cosworth. If only...