Mark and I arrived early in the afternoon, followed closely by Jerry and Lyn.
We did a bit of shopping in Gosforth and then sat in the sun by the roadside and waited for Bill. He arrived late after an argument with a Volvo on Hardknott - needless to say his old Merc won the contest!
We drove round to the Screes for the evening.

Basically we repeated the walk of the previous autumn for the sake of Bill, whom we knew would enjoy it. (picture) The contrast between the gentle, pastoral lower end of the valley, and the wild, isolated upper reaches (picture) was even more pronounced at this time of year, and we stopped just after the farm to watch some lambs being born.
Where the valley suddenly opens out at the top was a bright yellow rescue helicopter (picture) , with a broken tail rotor. Apparently it had touched the rockface while rescuing someone from Esk Buttress the day before, and had just made it to the level ground by the river.

After the sunshine of sunday, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, and so we had a day out in Keswick.

The weather was still not good - windy and very cold.
Bill, Jerry, Mark and myself drove to Wasdale head and walked up Styhead. (picture) The wind was funnelled down between Gable and Lingmell, gale force and bitterly cold at the bottom of the pass, but had eased a bit by the time we reached Styhead Tarn.
We went via Sprinkling Tarn and Esk Hause to the top of Great End, which we had by-passed on several occasions on the way to Scafell Pike. The hollow of Calf Cove still held banks of snow. (picture)
The wind increased again on the summit and contained some hail. (picture) We made a direct descent to the end of the Corridor Route and back down Styhead to Wasdale. (picture)

It was still cold, wet and very windy as we walked up by Nether Beck towards Scoat Tarn, and Lyn and Sally obviously weren't enjoying it. They both revolted at the sight of the climb to the cloud covered summit of Scoat Fell, and so we decided to abort the attempt and return to the valley by way of Red Pike.
We paused at the edge of the escarpment to marvel at the sight of Great Gable, looking very Andean from this angle. (picture) We traversed the ridge of Red Pike and went down to Dore Head. On the way we found several cheap plastic compasses, obviously abandoned by a party of school children.
At Dore Head we turned right to traverse the slopes of Yewbarrow, and descended to the road at Overbeck Bridge.

We drove to Eskdale and parked in Eskdale Green and then climbed up through the forest to the top of Irton Fell and took the path to Illgill Head.
On the way up we lost Bill in the forest; he eventually reappeared having made novel use of a paper face mask!! He blamed it on the previous night's supper. Do bears shit in the wood? Possibly not, but Bill does!
We went along the top of the screes, down to Burnmoor and along Mosedale back to Eskdale Green.

I can usually remember details of a walk, and picture it in my mind even after several years, but for the life of me I can't remember Greendale.
Mark says we did it, and so does Bill, so I suppose we must have done.
Looking at the map, our only possible objective could have been Haycock, but we certainly didn't reach it.

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