There is a secret location I visit once a year, to hunt magical corridors of trees, among the moss and swamp to find woodcock, the king — to me — of all gamebirds. This dell sits within the Yorkshire Dales, away from footpaths, houses and roads. Until a year ago, it had been left untouched, unmanicured and not even grazed for over 70 years. I have written about it before when, sadly, two of the three woodlands were felled due to larch disease. Although many of the trees have gone, the woodcock return in their hundreds, as the ground is still wet in the hardest of frosts and all sections are full of cover for the most mysterious of ground-nesters.
Jonathan and I left our cars at the base of the hill and worked our way up, through the sliding mud of the sheep fields, towards the start of our adventure. We got to the base
