I'VE always had the utmost respect for the emergency services.

Those people who spend their lives rushing from incident to incident, making sure people are either safe.

Or if we are facing danger, they dash in to rescue us from it.

Be that police officers trying to all they can to prevent us from being victims of crime and, if the worst does happen, the very presence of a cop makes us feel better.

I cannot imagine the terror of being in a burning building, let alone running into one to rescue those inside. But our firefighters know just how that feels.

And paramedics have to deal with awful situations, often facing abuse, all to help those who are critically ill or seriously hurt.

But I think special mention needs to be given to those “other” emergency services. Those people who provide a vital service – voluntarily.

I'm talking about organisations like the Mountain Rescue, the RNLI and St John's Ambulance.

Thankfully, I've never needed any of the emergency services – paid for or not – but on a recent trip to the Lake District, I think I came pretty close.

Off we set on what our walking guide book had described as a hike that was suitable for “averagely fit adults”.

I and the folk I was with like to this of ourselves as “averagely fit” - by this I mean we don't get out of breath climbing stairs and can run for the bus if we need to.

So off we set, armed with fairly clear (so we thought) directions, our walking boots and one bottle of water between the four of us.

More than two hours later we discovered we were on top of one of the highest fells in the Lakes – amazingly, this hadn't been mentioned in the directions.

We were all absolutely shattered, had no water left, no food – again the length of time the walk took wasn't mentioned – and the mist was closing in.

Luckily, we managed to hot foot it down the other side of the fell, staying (just) ahead of the advancing fog.

I cannot imagine the terror of being stuck on top of a mountain.

But the fact there are a group of people who – voluntarily – would come and rescue idiots like us is a very comforting thought.

As soon as we were back amongst civilisation we all donated to the local mountain rescue group. And it's given me a whole new respect for Bolton Mountain Rescue.

Yes, we might not have any mountains in Bolton but these guys are busy almost every day, searching for lost walkers, helping save people who have fallen on the moors and generally being heroic.

I, for one, would like to say a very big thank you to all those men and women who volunteer to be life-savers.