Peter Goudy rings the bells using the levers in the belfry of Central Presbyterian Church.

Central Presbeyterian Church is one of the historic buildings on the 2009 Heritage Cambridge home tour May 2.

CAMBRIDGE -- Peter Goudy revels in the way his heavy metal music echoes over Galt every Sunday morning.

The bell in Knox's (Galt) Presbyterian Church across Queen's Square is hardly competition, he said.

After all, he has 10 bells at hand in the century-old stone tower at Central Presbyterian Church.

"I have to admit, when I hear Knox church clanging, there's a little bit of me that says: I'll show you bells!"

Click here to view video of the Goudy and the bells.

Since he was a child attending the massive church along the Grand River, Goudy, 60, looked up and dreamed of playing the bells.

"When I was a kid, I always listened. Just went up and learned."

Some 15 years ago, he took over from longtime bell ringer David Barrie. Now Goudy has is own apprentice, John McDonald, 64.

Playing Central's bells isn't for the faint of heart -- or soft of hand.

"For the first few months, I had bruised fingers and palms on my hands," McDonald said.

"You're always on your toes playing the bells. You have to know how to deliver it," McDonald said.

Goudy and McDonald face a row of wooden handles connected to vertical rods reaching 10 metres above to the bell room. Heavy oak handles are worn smooth by a century of use, calling the faithful to worship.

Or announcing a wedding with a joyous "peal of bells" as a new couple runs a gauntlet of confetti out the church doors.

They grab the handles and snap them downwards to drive hammers onto the bells overhead. With practice, they've learned how to finesse the notes: hold the handle on the return and the sound softens; release it, letting handles slam upwards into the rack and the notes ring hard.

There's a cast-iron hot water radiator along the wall of the belfry all, but it hasn't worked for decades. Not that bell ringers need it.

"I'm in shirt sleeves in here, even in the winter," Goudy said.

"You get a good workout."

About 350 families regularly attend the historic church. It was built in 1880 and can seat more than 1,000 souls in its circular sanctuary.

The bell tower, however, wasn't completed until 1906.

The bells were cast at the McShane Foundry in Baltimore. They were purchased by members of the congregation and donated to the church.

The biggest -- at 1,000 kilograms -- was donated by community leader James Young. The smallest is 110 kg.

Goudy has a soft spot for playing traditional hymns on the bells, like Now Let the Vault Of Heaven Resound, Safe in the Arms of Jesus, and Joy to the World.

Not that he's afraid to play requests or have a little fun. When the city puts up a Christmas tree at Queen's Square, he rings out Frosty the Snowman to set the mood.

Sundays, McDonald starts playing the call to worship at 10 a.m. Goudy is just finishing a choir practice, jogs through the church, climbs the narrow, creaky stairs. He takes over at 10:10 a.m. to play his 15 minutes.

Goudy ends the show with a flourish. He unhooks the rod controlling the hammer on the big bell. Then he pulls on a fat manila rope hooked to its cradle.

During a recent church tour, he encouraged visitors give it a try. And to put their backs into it.

"That's not happy enough, too subdued," he said.

So he grabbed the rope up high and helped the learn the knack of full-body, rhythmic pulls. No more leaden thuds. Peals hammered the spring air.

"Now that's a happy bell!"

For MacDonald, working in the belfry is a spiritual experience beyond the music. He feels a connection to the history of the community that surrounds the thick, four-square walls and aged wooden beams.

"This is a special place," he said.

kswayze@cambridgereporter.com