A traverse of Haystacks, between its craggy, sugarloaf peaks, was balm to the soul recently. By Innominate Tarn, where Alfred Wainwright's ashes rest, was a particularly poignant moment. Back down at Char Cottage, with its red door set by Buttermere's shore, this Haystacks sojourn almost seemed to compensate for no longer being able to rock climb on surgeon's orders. Almost, but not quite.

For then I called on the Pickwickian figure of Mike McKenzie, now 72, at Wood House, the private hotel he runs with his wife, Judy, close to Crummock Water. We began by comparing hip operations but soon moved on to reminiscing about the 1950s when Eagle Crag would have been our goal in nailed boots and with a[...]

[Published in GreenNews - Read the original article]