A Cake Maker’s Debut at the Pateley Show

“9 to 5″ 🎶 – Dolly Parton

“Maybe you should start with a smaller show”.

These were the sensible words of my lovely friend Suzie (Sue) earlier in the summer as I confirmed my decision to become a debutant at the Pateley Agricultural Show.

Wise words from Suzie, a magnificent home baker in her own right with a house full of prize-winning rosettes.

But, since when did I do ‘Wisdom’?

Undeterred I completed my registration before the cut-off date in August and proceeded to practice and refine my home baking and select my favourite photographs for the appropriate categories at this year’s event.

Every year on the third Sunday in September, more than 15,000 people descend on Pateley Bridge in North Yorkshire, to attend the historic Nidderdale Agricultural Show.

Since moving here in 2021, we have made a point of attending this fantastic community event.

However, this year I had more than a vested interest as I was about to become a debut-making show participant.

No comparison intended, but in the Bible, Jesus fed 5,000 with five loaves and two fishes.

I wasn’t feeding anyone, except the judges who would taste my cakes, but I was showing two cakes and six photographs for the very first time.

I literally tingled with excitement!

Pateley Show is a big deal in these parts, easily the biggest draw of its kind across the Nidderdale Year.

Only last month the Lloyds Tour of Britain professional bike race had coursed through Pateley at high speed and drew big crowds:

But nothing to match the draw of this last big show of the agricultural year, in North Yorkshire.

Over the last five years, I’ve come to realize that this show matters to the people of Nidderdale.

In pursuing my ‘bucket list’ desire to ‘show’ my own amateur efforts, I have realized now that I am as invested as anyone living in the Nidd valley.

In the words of Arnie Schwarzenegger: “I’ll (definitely) be back” next year!

After submitting my application and paying my £8 fees (£1 per entry) in August, I did very little in way of physical preparation until the start of the week leading up to the show.

But like a finely tuned athlete, I had been mentally preparing myself!

My six photographs were chosen from a long list of 1200 and five of them I have inserted into this blog.

The one omission, is my favourite: my beautiful two-year-old granddaughter, Honor, sat in wonderment in a buttercup field earlier in the year.

My daughter and son in law have been straight from the start; they don’t want her to feature in any online posts. But they were happy to allow me to display a physical print of her on Sunday.

Of course, I had no idea how many entries would be competing with me, until the day of the show.

As it happens both my cakes and photographs had between 40-60 rivals jostling for the prized red, blue and yellow rosettes that indicate a podium finish.

Typically, my preparations for the kitchen-based classes had faced some additional challenges as the big event started to loom.

Some messy building work in our kitchen had made ‘show week’ a ‘no fry zone’ until the Thursday evening, so I had debunked to my daughter’s house, conveniently sited next door, to bake my gingerbread loaf three days early.

According to world famous cook Mary Berry, a greaseproof and foil wrapped Gingerbread loaf will mature with a better taste if stored three to four days before being eaten.

My more conventional iced coffee cake was baked on the Saturday, 12 hours before the show started.

I now realise that there is much less hassle to baking a coffee cake.

At 07.15 Sunday morning, after a sleepless night full of golden dreams I was dressed and ready for delivery.

So, whilst the rest of the house slept, I drove down to the showground and made my way to the ‘Produce’ tent to best arrange my entries.

I was early and most of my rivals had not yet arrived.

Suzie Sue had emphasized that presentation can be as important as taste when judges inspect your baking, so I had paid attention to every detail – there were no finger print on my cake’s glass cover, no crumbs around the cake edges, my walnuts and crystallized ginger toppings had not slipped and my artistically displayed coffee beans around the cake were attractively and evenly distributed.

My pulse was racing with the thrill of this chase.

I drove home and tried to relax with several flat white coffees: a poor choice.

Where was my logic at that early hour of the day?

We all know coffee is a stimulant and releases a ‘flight or fight’ response and stress hormones like adrenaline.

Pressure!

I now had a greater understanding as to how much pressure, high-performance athletes must suffer: I was actually showing at Pateley. 😳

It was a BIG deal!

My efforts would be judged.

Would it be abject failure or total glory?

An hour later, Nicky and I travelled down to Pateley at 9am with my daughter Rosie and granddaughter Honor.

The organization of this event is magnificent.

Masses of cheery and helpful stewards: all volunteers.

Free car parking was provided in fields just out of the town, then we took a white-knuckle ride on a tractor train into the showground itself.

Honor loved it, especially as we are driven by Harry, the teenage son of one of our nearest neighbours.

Young lads expertly handling massive tractors.

The future of farming is in safe hands with the likes of Harry invested in it.

What a polite and well-presented young man he is.

We all loved that journey, especially the Yorkshire (Patterdale Terrier actually), terrier sat next to us on the back row of the carriage.

My daughter had teased me for deliberately grabbing the back row.

It was a merited tease.

I had made a purposeful dive for that position.

It had brought back nostalgic memories of those heady days back in Bristol as a child, in the mid 1970’s, when my classmates and I would undertake a weekly sprint to try to occupy the back seat on the swimming bus.

The cool boys always grabbed the back seat.

Simple pleasures honing off heady memories!

It costs £20 to enter the show, with children under 11 going free and 11-18 year olds paying just £5.

In an age where modern entertainment costs a fortune, £20 for a full day of visual delights, is an absolute bargain!

Vast marquees dominate the show ground.

Visitors meander from tent to tent to marvel at displays as varied as focaccia bread, walking sticks, beef cattle, drystone walling, huge tractors, show jumping, pigs, geese, egg yolks, flower arranging, honey, dahlias and the all important street food ‘village’.

We ended up staying for seven hours and we still didn’t see everything.

Pateley show is a classic: combining tradition with technology, tweed with Barbour and sun with mud.

It is a social event like no other.

We met established friends and made new ones.

We saw our friends Pollyanna and Gus with baby Nettie, mum Beverley and dad Nick with great grandma Edith, 94 years young and proudly displaying her freshly varnished nails.

Ninety-four and so beautifully feisty!

Meeting Edith was a joy.

We met the other ‘King’ Charles: the ‘IV’ (he of ‘Cocoa Joe’s Hot Chocolate’ fame) and some of his family.

Such lovely people.

Daryll, the vicar of St Cuthbert’s in Pateley , and the best vicar I’ve ever known: (I’ve known a few) was resplendent in dog collar and tweed with his lovely wife Sharon, proudly hooked up on his arm.

The Pateley Show is THE local event to be seen at.

Devotees wear their Nidderdale tweed, beautiful young woman bare their legs whilst parading in their trendy Hunter wellies and old boys chat about the latest developments in tractor technology, their creased and wind-swept features proving to be a portrait photographer’s delight.

To be honest, my photographs of the event do not do it justice.

It is a visual and sensory spectacular: a feast for the eyes.

The lady who compered the large farm animal judging competitions was very elegantly dressed for the event.

She was so articulate and informed.

She should be a teacher!

She brought learning about Longhorn, Belted Galloway and Limousin cattle to life.

I stood and listened, mesmerized by her, as she narrated what was happening in the ring: all completely note-free.

That lady knows everything you will ever need to know about cattle. Seriously!

She should be on Mastermind.

Amazing!

The colourings on a newly shaved Fresian cow were interesting.

I’ve not seen a shaved cow before.

Apparently, its skin pigmentation lightens when it is shaved.

Farmers showing their cows were meticulous in their preparations.

A Henry vacuum cleaner was used to clean a huge bull.

Bully Boy was totally nonplussed, chewing his cud whilst his lackeys laboured.

I met Christine from Leyburn and Adele from Pateley, magnificently attired in their best formal show gear.

We chatted to Rachel and her son Hunter who had travelled from the western fringes of Yorkshire to ‘show’ their cattle in Pateley.

Apparently it costs £100 to show your cattle at this event and a prime cow like Rachel’s is worth around £2,000.

Wow!

Big Boys and big bucks.

I learned so much just from chatting with them.

We saw nine-year-old Hunter later on in the ring just after his cow had won a prize and we cheered for him.

He saw us and his face creased into a smile of pure joy.

He was proud, and we were so proud of him and his grandma.

Children as young as six and seven nonchalantly marshalled huge bulls, weighing well over a tonne, around the parade ground.

White lab coated elders watched diligently but never sought to steal the thunder of those youngsters, many of whom would be nervous debutants like me.

We marvelled at the entries in the poultry tent: ducks, geese, chickens all preened and powdered in their Sunday best.

There was even a ‘best in class’ egg competition.

How on earth do you judge an egg?

Surely, a golden egg, once cracked, is still a golden egg, isn’t it?

What do I know? 🤷‍♂️

There were 30 plus golden eggs on display.

To my regret, I never really managed to spend enough time in the ‘Produce’ tent.

I wanted to see the categories on display, marvel at the beetroot and onions, the sausage displays, curated vegetable trays, preserves and pickles, the dressed walking sticks and painting exhibits.

Next year, I vowed, I will be more decisive in my planning of which tents to visit and that tent will be my number one priority.

The atmosphere across the show ground was happy with families basking in the hot autumnal sun.

A policeman sauntered through the crowd as the brass band played.

Taking it all in, another Bull quietly chewed his cud and played it cool.

The likelihood of him being called into action was incredibly low.

It seems like an age since I last saw a traditionally helmeted copper.

That sort of sums up the Pateley Show which is forged on centuries old tradition.

More commercial market traders were also selling their wares.

Rebecca was there with her superb animal portraits.

‘Sweet eyes’ always gets me: it could have been Tip our own border collie!

I could have bought thousands of garden gloves.

A cool-looking, heavy metal fire pit would cost you more than £500.

Eye watering expense!

Our day was coming to an end, but I had one last task to undertake: time to ‘face my music’ and check out how my own entries had performed.

Judging of the various produce categories is a serious business.

Judges on that show ground, carry far more authority than any Ofsted Inspector I ever met throughout my teaching career.

Judging takes place behind closed doors, more specifically closed tents, throughout the morning.

The big reveal takes place at high noon when the tent flaps are unzipped and the public descend in their droves to see who has tasted glory.

I had taken a sneaky paparazzi style photograph at 11.00, having crawled under the marquee curtain, at the cost of muddy knees, to snap the judges in full action.

Those judges were on it!

And now I would witness their decisions at first hand.

I glimpsed a flash of yellow next to my photograph of Gibson Mill in Hebden Bridge, one of two of my entries in the ‘Historic Building’ class. I felt the same surge of pride that I had seen in Hunter with his cow.

Third in my first Show!

YAY! Not too shabby.

I nervously approached the cake stalls.

My ginger cake finished unclassified; ‘not ginger enough’ according to the lovely judge who was so gracious in her feedback.

Damn!

I had deliberately held back on the ginger as I hadn’t wanted to be too gingery!

Lesson learned for next time!

God willing, there will be a next time, next year.

Multiple categories and classes were arranged along those long tables full of home baked entries.

Members of the Women’s Institute always show their home baking in this competition.

My coffee cake was still on display under its attractive cut glass canopy, but a splash of blue card was resting laconically against it!

SECOND PLACE.

I let out a loud ‘YESSSSSSS” and then blushed beetroot red as a 100 faces turned in my direction.

Nicky threw her arms around me and whispered “well done!”

This debutant had scored a second and a third place finish from his eight entries in his first show.

And I won prize money of £7 and I got to take the cakes home.

A net loss of £1 for an experience that was priceless.

I think I floated back home up the steep hill from Pateley show-ground.

I texted Suzie Sue my news.

Her classy response came back.

(Suzie Sue oozes class):

“Brilliant results Martin, especially for your first show. I entered quite a few before being placed. The marquee was buzzing and I overheard several people saying how good the entries were!”

High praise indeed.

In the words of ‘Bopit’, that annoyingly addictive quick reflex game that my kids played in the naughties on long car journeys:

“Do it again, but better!”

Pateley Show 2026 – you were magnificent and I, for one, will definitely be coming back.

Only next time, I’m coming to win!😜
Thanks for the read.
Martin x

Massive thanks to my Derbyshire based Editor in Chief, Sarah Cross. Sarah can spot a typo a mile off. Hopefully her attention to detail has helped me to go ‘💯% typo free!’ I’ve promised this time not to add more text after her edit!

If you want to read more of my travel and walking blogs you can do so in 3 ways.

Join my private WhatsApp group where I share a link to my blog every time I write. If you want this option please send me a direct message with your phone number and I will add you to the group.

OR

Follow and like my Facebook page.

https://www.facebook.com/share/1CNRVSdPz4/?mibextid=wwXIfr

OR

Subscribe free of charge to my WordPress account.

All of my photographs are ‘seen as ‘scene’!’

I really want you to see what I saw when I pressed my shutter: not a touched up version of a non reality.

My hunt for the perfect photograph continues! 🤷🏼‍♂️

Martin Moorman is a 61 year old retired Headteacher who lives with his wife Nicky, daughter Rosie and her family in North Yorkshire, UK.

Martin and Nicky have 3 grown up children, Rosie, Harry and Jake, all happily married too and one granddaughter.

In his spare time Martin loves walking, photography, blogging, football, renovating, cooking and chatting to anyone who will listen!