My perfect panacea to a tough week overseeing restoration construction projects at many of our most treasured buildings and landmarks, is an absorbing expedition to a rock face or an outing in the Lake District.

Call it a mid-life crisis or a suicidal tendency, but hanging from a mountain in somewhere as wonderfully scenic as Cumbria or the Yorkshire Dales is my idea of a good day out.

I've always loved exploring the great outdoors and regularly head off to the hills with two long-standing friends. We can reflect on our mid-life crises together and leave the week's woes far behind.

Don't get me wrong. I love my job, and the challenge of restoring and conserving historic and listed buildings is a joy but this is different. This is dealing with architecture of the natural variety and it requires an altogether different approach. Both can, at times, be very frustrating, sometimes seemingly impossible, but with equally rewarding results.

The first time I convinced one of my friends to come with me, he ended up crawling up a knife-edged rock ridge on Blencathra in blizzard conditions with his knees clamped either side.

We came across a climber in full winter kit, with crampons and ice-axe, descending from the other direction, and it was then that he had some serious doubts about my leadership skills.

I'd like to say that was my only incident of misjudgment but I must own up to having gone up the Lake District's Great Gable instead of Green Gable when I missed the turn in the path. My only defence is that it was an extremely foggy day and we were in a hurry to get back to find a pub to watch an England football match.

There have been some hairy moments but the good thing about being adrenaline challenged is that it leaves very little space left in the brain for the stresses of work. That said, I make sure that my wife only hears about the safe and sensible side of my walking and climbing escapades.

My scariest moment? Far too many to recall but getting stuck over the edge of a climb at Almscliffe Crag called Pram Pusher's Paradise figures quite high up there. The friction on the rope was so strong I hadn't got the strength left to pull it through.

I do admit to being a splendidly poor rock climber. I spend the winter months on the climbing walls and can only dream of attaining the same level of skill, strength and
agility of some of my fellow climbers.

A summer session outdoors at Almscliffe or Caley Crags is hard to beat but it does leave its mark. There's many a rock face that has had more than it's fair share of my scraped shins and bruised knuckles.

I'd say the thing that drives you on is the views. I love the sense of space and the timelessness of the scenery. If the climb hasn't taken your breath away then the vista surely will.

Exhilaration at its best or foolishness in the extreme? Either way, I love it.