My Rucksack

 

My rucksack has just given up the ghost. It was one of those cheap ones from the market and lasted about four years which is not bad considering how much I’ve used it. But it does not compare with the rucksack shown above; pictured on Steel Fell, overlooking Greenburn Bottom in the Lake District. Dad bought this for me, second-hand, when I was about thirteen. It had a big metal frame and weighed a ton even without its contents. The inside space was comparable to a Volvo Estate and it had half a dozen extra pockets and various straps leather for carrying tripod, etc. It had been up virtually every Lakeland fell that I have climbed and around North Wales, Scotland, the West Country, and various other parts of England. Eventually, after about twenty years, I swapped it for a camera gadget bag