It was a grand day out at the re-scheduled Christmas Trail Ride on Sunday. After being virtually imprisoned for weeks on an iced-over yard, it was uplifting to see our three horses cantering and leaping together in the Dales countryside.

David Coates and his family provided their usual warm welcome at Craven Country Ride, laying on hot punch and home-made soup.

Although the day began with low cloud and rain, by the time Esme, Jack and Sophie had ridden over, the sun was breaking through.

Jenny came along in the Land Rover to help. It was quite a family reunion to see it parked, red and shiny, near where the horses were waiting as their riders collected their numbers.

“You’ve grown very portly,” commented steward “Auntie” Wendy as a seasonally plump Daniel lined up at the start.

“It’s just mi long ’air. There’s plenty fatter ’n me,” Daniel muttered as a tubby piebald strolled through the finish flags.

If the trio of riders hoped to escape from it all in the picturesque upland landscape, they hadn’t bargained for the remarkable staying-power of their enthusiastic groom.

“Good God, there she is again,” said Esme as a cheerfully-waving Jenny popped up over the hillside for the umpteenth time. “Even when she’s out of sight, her voice drifts over on the breeze.”

The ride was great fun, with Mrs Horse jumping a variety of challenging obstacles and Daniel and Baby following enthusiastically over the smaller logs.

Unfortunately, Sophie found herself hanging on grimly (again) to avoid plummeting into the new water complex. Daniel heaved himself out over a ledge, flinging Sophie from the saddle. She clung desperately round his neck, fighting to save herself from a ducking.

After several hair-raising seconds, she made a valiant recovery, despite Daniel’s refusal to stand still. Luckily, the complex is fenced and he couldn’t run off.

“It must have been the punch,” said Sophie as we marvelled at her ability to keep holding on.

On Monday, Steve was privileged to meet his favourite racehorse, Mister McGoldrick, at Sue Smith’s yard on Bingley Moor for a magazine feature he is writing.

On New Year’s Day, Steve was thrilled to watch on television as the steeplechaser finished third at long odds at Cheltenham. Now he was able to get close up to his four-legged hero and offer him one of Daniel’s precious extra-strong mints.

“Mints are wasted on them fancy racers,” grumbled Daniel. “They don’t stand abart long enough to appreciate a good mint – or a good Dad.

“There’s nowt wrong wi’ ridin’ somert steadier.”