STEWART Hulse, Bury's true man of the mountains, has stepped down as leader of Britain's busiest mountain rescue team.

Stewart, who is just days away from his 65th birthday, founded the Ambleside Fell Rescue Team in Cumbria. And when it merged with the neighbouring Langdale team in 1969 he became its deputy leader and then its leader. In all, he has served nearly 30 years.

Hundreds of people owe their lives to Stewart and his fellow team members. The number of rescues every year exceeds even those of the Highlands because so many more people take to the accessible Lakeland fells.

Stewart, who hails from Fishpool, in the shadow of Bury FC's Gigg Lane, had dreams of being a professional soccer star and got a groundstaff job at Gigg Lane when he was a teenager. His soccer skills were honed there and he played for the Shakers' A team but never made it to full professional and switched instead to a career in engineering. It was on his honeymoon with his new wife Joan that he found another true love and decided to settle in the Lake District.

For most of his working life he has been an engineer with South Lakeland Council, first looking after its sewage pumps and then the equipment in its 60 children's playgrounds.

Stewart, who lives in Ambleside, said: "The first time I set eyes on the Lake District I fell in love with it and I still feel the same. I just wish people would be more sensible when they take to the hills."

Although he has handed over leadership, he is continuing as a team member and was out three times on rescues only recently.

Over the years, the father of two has made headline news with his bravery and his outspoken views on such things as foolhardy souls who venture into the high mountains with just a mobile phone for protection.

But he's also been a tough fighter against moves to turn rescue volunteers into professionals and make hill walkers pay insurance.

But for tough man Stewart, who once climbed the outside of Blackpool Tower for fun, life is not all ups and downs.

He's just started taking leisurely weekends as a cricket umpire with his pager alarm in his white coat pocket in case of a mountain call.