Bell ringing has been calling people to church for centuries, and it’s a tradition which is still a major part of worship.

But today’s bell ringers aren’t just practising for this reason alone – they’re competing and breaking world records, as I discovered when I joined a group of ringers at their Saturday morning practise.

Climbing the steep, narrow, winding stone staircase into the bell tower at St Paul’s Church in Drighlington, I chuckled to myself at the thought of the bell ringing monks swinging up and down on the ropes in the TV advert. Then it dawned, maybe that would be me!

That image soon disappeared as the door swung open to reveal Louise Connacher and her ringers, a sea of smiling faces all welcoming and with ropes at the ready.

Before I could get to grips with ringing, Louise guided me through the bell positions demonstrated in diagrams around the tower wall.

Louise explains when the bell mouth is down, the bell is at rest. I didn’t realise it had to be ‘rung up’ before we could start ringing and rung down at the end!

The bell is surrounded by a wheel. Beneath it runs the stay, a piece of wood which holds the bell in place. Pulling on the rope a bit at a time makes the wheel swing round. The more you pull, the more it swings round until the bell is upside down.

I’m intrigued to know what hangs above. Behind the large wooden trap door over our heads sit eight bells believed to date back to the 1870s. The lightest – the treble – is just over 5cwt. The heaviest is approximately 1,400cwt, which requires some considerable pulling power!

“It’s not like weight training, but it is good cardio-vascular exercise,” smiles Philip Barker, a doctor who took up bell ringing as a pastime.

Philip and his 17-year-old daughter V (Victoria) and fellow bell ringers, 13-year-olds Hannah Whelan and Alexander Brush, live close by in the village of Tong.

They were cajoled into ringing by Louise who is behind the fundraising campaign to get the bells restored and ringing again at St James’s Church in their village.

“We have done lots of work on the church over the years. Different parts have been restored, and now we have done everything else, the bells are the last things that need doing,” explains Louise, who began bell ringing at 16.

She was eager to recruit ringers from the village and the group I met, who are learning the ropes at St Paul’s until the St James’s bells are restored, were happy to oblige.

Louise contacted Philip after learning he’d done some bell ringing at university, and now it has become a family affair with Philip’s wife and daughter Rachel, V’s twin sister, all becoming bell ringers.

“We want our bells restored at church and we need people to ring them, that’s why I did it. It’s different to what I usually do, playing football and things like that,” smiles V.

Alex began ringing for similar reasons. “Our church needs its bells restoring and I wanted to help as much as possible. It’s really enjoyable.”

Glancing at the six ringers poised by their ropes, I’m eager to get going, but Louise suggests I watch for a while to see how it’s done.

From my ringside seat I’m struggling to grasp the method. When Louise shows me a blackboard chalked up with a series of numbers, I’m perplexed. “Do you have to be mathematical?” I ask.

Thankfully, maths isn’t essential, nor is a knowledge of music. You’re following scales – generally one to eight when there are eight bells, and the bells are rung in a particular sequence.

Plain Bob is the basic method and Little Bob Minor; Steadman Doubles; Kent Treble Bob Minor and Grandsire Triples are more complex methods you can progress to.

“They are not a piece of music or tunes you would recognise. It is a sequence that can sound musical,” explains Louise, stepping aside from her rope for me to have a go.

Ironically, the fluffy end is the Sally – suddenly I feel at home! Louise explains the bell I’m ringing is equivalent to 300 kilos.

We begin with some back strokes giving me a feel for the rope gliding through my hands. I panic a little as the vision of those Mars Bar monks springs to mind again, and I hold on to the rope, causing it to chafe rather than glide.

Eager to progress, I grasp the Sally, right hand above left. For my next move, the hand stroke which is pulling down on the sally enables me to get a feel for the weight of that bell above. Imagine pulling a standard peal which lasts around three hours – maybe more if you’re a competitive bell ringer!

A commemorative plaque on the bell tower wall at St Paul’s boasts the Peal of Grandsire Triples – some 5,040 changes – rung here in 1912, indicating bell ringing isn’t solely a pastime or a purpose – you can break records and win trophies for bell ringing!

In the two decades since Louise began bell ringing, she’s collected trophies in ‘striking’ competitions.

She’s also proud that she has rung at many churches in Britain. “Some people have a list and try and tick off every bell tower in the country – we call them tower grabbers!” laughs Louise. “I just like ringing at different churches.

“I enjoy the sound of it, I enjoy the fact it’s part of church worship. You are calling people to church.”

And, adds Louise, it’s a social activity as well as a hobby. Bell ringing has given her a network of friends throughout the country.

Fellow bell ringer and striking competitor Andrew Fawbert, who is helping Louise teach the group, responded to an advert for bell ringers when he was 11. He is a regular ringer at St Martin’s in Brighouse.

“Myself and several others turned up on the first day in May 1977, and of that original group three of us are still ringing together,” he smiles.

“It becomes a social thing. You meet lots of friends from different walks of life and they become life-long friends.”

For more information about bell ringing, call 07779 328857 or visit the Central Council of Church Bell Ringing website at cccbr.org.uk