I dropped my son Ian and his belongings off in Birmingham on the way up and arrived Keswick and made straight for the Dog and Gun. I had a couple of very acceptable pints of Theakstons and then made the traditional visits to George Fisher's and Walter Wilson's before looking for the house.
I couldn't find it, but eventually asked a local who thought he might know. I'd been driving up and down the road at the rear of the house from which there was no entrance.
It was pleasantly sunny, and I sat on the patio and waited for Jerry to go past on wrong road. Finally he fooled me by arriving at the correct entrance.
Ronald (Jerry's old Nissan van) was not well. He was running on 3 cylinders at the very most and his battery was boiling.

I hate to say it again but as usual the good weather of Saturday evening had turned into heavy and persistent rain. We had a family outing to Watendlath via High Lodore, returning to Rosthwaite.
It wasn't a very good introduction Lakes for Jerry's family, and CJ, who had slept in his baby carrier for the outward journey, began to protest loudly as we climbed up the Rosthwaite path from Watendlath. He could only be placated by being fed pieces of jam sandwich at regular intervals.
Not for the first time I thought it would be nice to see Watendlath in the sun!

The good weather had returned - in fact it was very hot.
Jerry and I set off for Walla Crag intending to ascend Bleaberry Fell. It was so hot that I discarded my hairy green Helly Hansen fleece, and we aborted the attempt on Bleaberry Fell. Instead we took the path to Ashness Bridge, and then walked down to the Borrowdale road. The path down Ashness was very pleasant, with great views of Derwentwater and Catbells. (picture)
In one of the Scots pines by the lake was a red squirrel, and we sat and watched it for some time before continuing along the road to the entrance to Great Wood. It was pleasantly shady under the trees, but still very warm. We came out of the woods by the radio transmitter, went down hill for a bit, and took the path which leads across to the Ambleside road.

It was still hot and sunny.
Jerry and I drove to Seathwaite and went via Styhead, Sprinkling Tarn and Esk Hause to Esk Pike.
Sprinkling Tarn is one of my favourite places, and we sat in the sun for quite a while before we managed to drag ourselves away and resume the climb up to Esk Hause. From here the path up Esk Pike was much easier than we had expected, and there were excellent views of upper Eskdale and the Great Moss.
(picture) (picture) We had intended to go over Esk Pike, down to Ore Gap, and return to Esk Hause via Angle Tarn, but instead we retraced our steps and went down Grains Gill to Seathwaite; it was hot and we had had enough uphill for one day.

Jerry and his family went on boat trip round the lake and a picnic at Grange. I remembered the hours that my friend Ian and I used to spend playing in the river there during family holidays in the fifties. The trip to Grange always ended with beans on toast in the cafe.
I wandered round Keswick, wrote a few postcards and walked down to lake to meet them off the boat.

We all drove to Newlands and went up to the Catbells ridge from Little Town and Hause Gate. (picture) Since my last visit the local farmers had prevented parking on the grass verges by depositing large rocks on them - I must admit they have my every sympathy. Instead there was a new car park at the bottom of the road by the bridge.
We went along the ridge over Maiden Moor (picture) to High Spy and Dalehead Tarn, and then back down upper Newlands. This is another walk of which I shall never tire, although in this case Jerry did as he had CJ on his back all the way. (picture)

Jerry and I parked at the Blencathra visitors' centre ( the old sanatorium) and walked along the Glenderaterra valley to Skiddaw House.
It was so hot that we stopped at every stream to soak our handkerchiefs in cold water and drape them over our heads. We turned left at Skiddaw House and made for the grassy knoll of Sale How. What appeared to be a gentle walk up a grass slope turned into a long slog. Sale How is one of those annoying convex hills where a fresh summit appears just as you think you've made it. My left knee took exception to it, and when we reached the Jenkin Hill path to Skiddaw Jerry sprinted (?) up Little Man while I rested my knee. When we were reunited we returned over Lonscale Fell (picture) to the Glenderaterra. (picture)

Jerry had replaced the voltage regulator and plugs, and Ronald seemed to be well.
For once a week of constant sun(except Sunday!).

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