When I was a youngster back in the Ribble Valley a group of friends and myself started climbing together. Luckily we had some climbing mentors who took us under their wings; climbers like Dave Kenyon, Pete Black and Malc Haslam. Malc was a funny one. He worked in the local Trutex factory but he was misplaced there, he should have been an English lit teacher such was his appetite and knowledge of the written word. He was also a bit of a philosopher.

One of the things he told us was that he couldn’t really travel abroad to climb as he didn’t want to find a place that was better than Clitheroe (yes really). His theory was that he was quite happy in Clitheroe and the UK and he didn’t want to spoil it by yearning and dreaming for another place - another place that he wouldn’t have the means to emigrate to. He’d rather keep his mind closed when it came to geography and place. He knew there were better places to live, but he didn’t want to experience them.

I have traveled and lived in other places. One of these was California’s Eastern Sierra. We spent 9 years there and I shall never forget it, never stop dreaming of that heavenly place. Beautiful weather, excellent climbing, friendly neighbours and good climbing friends; a small town and community far removed from anywhere else. It was like living on a desert island in many respects. Very little contact with the outside world. We didn’t even have a TV, I never have. It was a world apart from the consumer-rich towns and cities that we experience in the rest of the USA, the UK and many other places.

The wilderness around Bishop gave you head space, lots of it, and time. You could wander out into the desert or up into the mountains and you were free, free from all the noise that pollutes our world today; celebrities, advertorials, the latest gadgets, mass sport spectatorship, merchandising, politics and war. That’s not to say that people hid their hands in the sand; there were anti-war protests in Bishop, but at least you had a choice and it was never in your face.

These special places like the Eastern Sierra, or the English Lake District or the Peak District near where I live now are sanctuaries of escape; even better if you get out of your car and walk or climb and immerse yourself in them; they give us head space from the ills of modern life that we have no control over.

Unlike Malc I don’t mind dreaming about these places I’ve lived in and love planning when I can’t visit them again. I’m very glad I’ve experienced them.

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