Day 2, Drymen to Rowardennan

Walking on my own today, this was a day of up’s and down’s literally, both physically and mentally. Setting off from the ‘Kip in the Kirk’ it was close on a cloudless sky, the perfect Spring morning, the morning chorus of bird song had carried on well past dawn and was still in full tune and the bee’s moved from plant to plant with the vigour you only get with an awakening Springtime.

Heading North East out of Drymen, I turned off the A811 onto the tracks of the Queen Elizabeth Forest, the views of my morning target in full view, peaking over the top of the yellow flowers of the gorse bushes that lined both sides of the tracks. Conic Hill, from here I’d then be dropping into Balmaha for a spot of lunch and then onto Rowardennan in the afternoon.

Now, I’m not someone who normally suffers from blisters, it has been known, but it’s not the norm. So when I was starting to feel that tell tale burning rub as I approached the top of Conic, it was time to sit my butt down, boots off, socks off and air dry the feet while I enjoyed a wee cuppa. Then it was a bit of DIY patch up on my toe with some zinc oxide tape followed by a reboot so to speak, then I finished the climb to wonder at the majestic views of the Highland Boundary Fault Line as it punctured the surface waters of Loch Lomond. From West to North in an arc of continuous beauty , the Luss Hills, Arrochar Alps and Ben Lomond.

Following the reasonably steep decent off of Conic with the general nods and the “good mornings” of people passing as they head up Conic to relish the views of this wee hill that punches well above it’s weight, I arrived in Balmaha to have lunch in the Oak Tree, a Baked Potato with Pulled Pork filling, which was quite reasonably priced and not too bad on the palette either.

Refuelled and ready for round two I head off along the lochside. Now having walked this section before, many moons ago, I forgot this is where the real ups and downs of the day start, in my minds eye it had been so different.

Up and down, up and down pretty much for the next six miles. Ironically, I needed to stop and tape up the wee toe on my other foot after another couple of miles, What did I say? “Now, I’m not someone who normally suffers from blisters”…..yeah right. I honestly felt as though I was starting to break down physically, mentally that was getting to me because this wasn’t meant to be physically, a bad day!

Back to The Way, this part is truely beautiful, moving from one bay to the next, Milarrochy, Cashel, Sallochy and then bypassing the Scottish Centre for Ecology and the Natural Environment, part of Glasgow University before reaching Rowardennan.

Staying at the Scottish Youth Hostel Associations Rowardennan Lodge, my bed for the night. Which can be found by following the track through and past the Ben Lomond car park, starting point of the main routes to Ben Lomond itself, Scotland’s most southerly Munro.

That second night I was full of emotion, had I bitten off more than I could chew? My legs were in bit’s, two taped toes and a little bit of chaffing for good measure, let’s say I was a little pissed off. The walk itself, I was enjoying, the views, the people, the dream of walking ‘The Way’ had for so long been with me physically I was breaking down. This wasn’t meant to be in the script.

I settled in to the Lodge, had a shower and then it was down for dinner. Having slapped lashings of nappy rash cream my wife had bought in for the granddaughter for when we were baby sitting. Our beautiful three month old grand-daughter, I had pinched her bum cream, no shame!

My pains started to ease as the night wore on, I stuck my head into my book before getting my head down for an early night wondering what tomorrow would bring?

Day 3, Rowardennan to Bien Glas Campsite

Waking after a great sleep from the day before that seen me arrive at the Youth Hostel like an ‘Extra’ from ‘Night of the Living Dead’!

First thing is the wiggle of a toe, bend of the leg and then swinging the legs from under the cover, standing up and checking, well to be honest the most important check……how’s the chaffing?

Everything’s moving well, nappy rash cream has done the job, tape and talc the feet, grub up then polish the ivories and it’s time to start my day.

As I leave the Hostel first thing is to place my rucksack in the wee hut/shed for pick up by Go Haggis, the company I used for my baggage transfers, to be honest they were a great company, what a great wee service, unfortunately I have heard they are no longer trading. When I opened the door of the hut, to my surprise there was a crate of bottled water with a nice wee note for me to help myself to a bottle. Now I already had a bottle of water in my bag and my flask filled for tea, but you know how you just get that feeling that you might just need something. So with a smile at the generosity I placed another bottle into my daysack and off I went.

I seemed to be making good time, the legs moving freely, feet feeling good, and I’m relishing the mornings cloudless skies. As I was in the lea of Ben Lomond, the rays of rising sun were not yet basting me and there was still a wee chill in the air, a good walking temperature though. One thing for sure however, when the sun broke over the hill the Mercury would be rising.

For the first bit of today’s walk ‘The Way’ followed a car track to just beyond Ptarmigan Lodge, then it was onto the real East coast of Loch Lomond that you hear everyone talking about, tree roots, hopping between boulders, down at the waters edge, back up over ledges. However, with the dry weather Scotland was having, the going under foot was excellent.

I could hear voices in the distance, before I know it I come upon a familiar face, Phil (Philip Morris) whom I met two days ago at ‘Kip in the Kirk’ in Drymen. Phil was walking with a German lad Christoph, so in typical WHW style we walked and chatted about our first few days, good things, bad things(blisters/chaffing), sights, people……you know the usual stuff. It turns out the extra water I lifted now came to good use, as I happened to mention it to the lads and it turns out Christoph had left his water bottle at the place he stayed the previous night. So easy come easy go and everyone is fully hydrated, happy days.

Now it’s amazing how good company, good weather and good views to boot, pass time. For in no time at all we pass Rowchoish, Cailness and then over the bridge at falls of the Arklet Water at Inversnaid Hotel. Here I part company with Phil and Christoph as I had planned on stopping here for lunch.

Inversnaid Hotel has a nice little menu, for me it was light lunch of Lentil Soup and Baguette with a fresh orange and lemonade. There was lot’s of characters I met there at Inversnaid that day, one older fellow who had been fighting cancer for five years, walking with a full load, he was wild camping and already on day eight. He said, “yesterday I only managed two miles, I’m feeling good though, I just keep stopping to look at the views”. He followed this by saying as long as he finished in the next two weeks he’d be happy. I sure hope he did, in fact I’m sure he did!

I start phase two of day three by pushing on from Inversnaid by Rob Roys Cave and in what seems like no time, I’m again on the shirt tales of Phil and Christoph. For the rest of the day we walk together, Christoph heading for Ardlui, me for Bien Glas and Phil pushing on to Crianlarich. We kept a steady pace on the path and before you know it we are at Doune Bothy.

As all too often there was a fair bit of litter left around the bothy, some kind soul though had bagged most of it and left for one of the National Park Rangers to collect. We take a seat outside and soak up a few rays and I have a cuppa. As we’re contemplating the last push some wee lass of American origin bounds down the hill full of smiles, says a few words and moves on by.

We pack our stuff together and head off, before you know it we’ve caught up with the American lass who introduces herself as Lynne (Lynne Nieman). Now we only caught Lynne due to her love of photography, certainly not because of her wee short legs, this lass could shift.

Continuing with the walking and talking, Lynne joins our ever growing posse as she’s heading to Ardlui also. We get close to where the ferry picks the walkers up and takes them across the North End of the Loch to the Ardlui hotel, when I just about fall over doubled in laughter as Lynne asks,
“where is this Boo-ee (Buoy) that we raise so the ferryman knows we’re here?”

So in my dulcet Glasgow tone, once I regained my composure, I tell her the proper pronunciation (Boy) and assure her it’s just over the next hill and down into the following bay. I have to admit, she took it all in good fun, to my shame I later found out that our friends across the pond do actually pronounce Bhoy as Boo-ee.

Here, Phil and I leave Lynne and Christoph to wait on the ferry, next stop Bien Glas where I have booked a camping pod for the night, really a wee prism type wooden shed with a couple of mattresses on the floor. Bien Glas reached, Phil and I exchange our farewells and he heads out of the campsite with five miles left of his day to reach his shelter in Crianlarich.

For me, a pint or two of the good stuff, and a cracking meal in the pub on the campsite. I then retire to the front porch of my pod with my book, wrapped up in my insulated jacket, I watch as the the days remaining walkers stroll into the campsite, others hobble, but in all cases exchanging pleasantries as they pass.

Day 3 had been a good day, a very good day.

If you are lucky enough to have fine weather on this section of the Way, I’m sure like myself, you’ll have good memories. I can see though why some curse it if the weather’s bad. It was time to retire, satisfied and looking forward to seeing my father who was to join me for Day 4, Bien Glas to Tyndrum.

Day 4, Bien Glas Campsite to Tyndrum

After waking to another cracker of a day, I go through my morning routine, tape ‘n’ talc feet, wash, breakie in the campsite pub. I then have a wander back to my pod to pack my gear and wait on my father.

My dad was joining me for today’s leg of the Way up to Tyndrum. Having a watch like my own that normally runs 30 minutes late, I was surprised when he turned up a mere 15 minutes late, or, 15 minutes earlier than I expected. Regardless, it’s always good to see him, I took my pack and left it for ‘Go Haggis’ baggage transfers and then we were off.

Heading North out of the Bien Glas, we head into the glen alongside the River Falloch, we seem to be playing cat and mouse with a couple that I’ve been crossing paths with for the last day or two, morning pleasantries and a wee nod to each other on further passing as you do.

The river takes a turn to the North East and the path follows suit, we stop and admire the views of the ‘Falls of Falloch’ then push on. The path clings to the river for a little further before climbing away to open hillside and dropping to the river where we crossed to the West bank of the Falloch. Another few hundred yards we pass underneath the West Highland Rail Line, which coincidentally is well worth a trip, we then take the underpass of the A82. A short pull takes us onto a farmers track which we follow by means of dodging cowpats, lots of cowpats. The track meanders at a steady and reasonably gently incline, to reach a fork in track just beyond a deer fence adjacent to fingerpost(a fingerpost being a small sign giving names of the places, each finger pointing down the leg of a path).

We decided now was as good a time as any to have a break, sitting at a small bench at the fork, which is the point anyone using Crianlarich as a stop would take a right, we get our flasks and sandwiches out. Just then we’re joined by a young couple who take a seat on a patch of grass a few metres away, followed rapidly by an Australian lady in her late sixties. I reassign my backside to a clod of grass allowing the lady to take a seat on the bench, who said chivalry is dead?

The conversation sparks up and this Aussie lady, sorry but I’ve forgotten her name, so I’ll use Matilda (yeah I know, but Matilda it is). So, Matilda accepts a coffee from my dad and talks of her yearly exploits of travel from Oz to the UK and Europe to walk, she tells us of last years walking in Wales and how she had been looking forward to this walk on the WHW for some time. We tell Matilda that we are impressed at the number of single women we’ve passed and been passed by, over the last few days. That it’s great that so many of these ladies feel comfortable and safe enough to take this challenge on their own. Matilda says she’d love it if her husband would come with her, but he prefers Golf to walking, he golfs, she walks. A coffee or two lighter we bid her farewell and part company.

From the fingerpost, we climb into a forested area made up of Sikta Spruce, the path rises then falls, every now and then breaking to give views, beautiful views. East is Ben More and Stob Binnean and along the beautiful Glen Dochart, North is Beinn Challuim and North West your eyes follow the glen and River Falloch towards Tyndrum. The trees gave a welcome break from the sun, when we were in their shade, the height gained aided us with a gentle breeze. Eventually the path took a dropped of around 170m and we were met again with the A82.

Crossing the A82, we made our way up the River Fillan before crossing it and heading towards Strathfillan Wigwams via Kirkton Farm, the Strath was stunning but I was toasting under the sun, not a usual complaint in this part of Scotland especially in May. Stopping in the wee shop at Strathfillan Wigwams we had more than earned our choc-ices, we sit for a bit chatting to a lad that’s touring the West Coast on his Harley. Then we’re off on the final push to Tyndrum.

We cross the A82 again, we’re starting to feel like a yo-yo with the road north. ‘The Way’ follows the river, it pulls away from the road, we pass a stane seat, inscribed with details of a ‘Battle of Dalrigh’ which occurred in 1306. This battle was between the army of King Robert I(Robert the Bruce) of Scotland against the Clan MacDougall of Argyll, this was not to be Robert the Bruce’s best day.

Reaching Tyndrum we walk up to the bus stop with 10 minutes to spare for my father to catch the bus back to Bein Glas Campsite to pick up his car. Myself, I headed to ‘By the Way’ Campsite where I had hired a Hobbit House for the night, this campsite was a wee touch of luxury. The Hobbit House had a TV, microwave and kettle….heaven. I headed to the shower block which was spotless, generally this site has good facilities and the village is excellent for replenishing stocks, grabbing a bite to eat. The Tyndrum Inn serves a good pint, or two.

It so happens whilst in the pub having a pint, I again cross paths with
Lynne Nieman who welcomes me into the company she is with for the evening. It’s here learn that Lynne is a Travel Consultant and Blogger from Cincinnati, in the good old US of A. Lynne’s page can be found at; https://wanderyourway.com/

Finishing my first, second….sixth pint I head off to my Hobbit House for a restful night, both in anticipation and apprehension for tomorrow which would be my longest day, 18 miles.

Tomorrow would see me head for Glencoe, passing Beinn Dorain a superbly conical mountain when viewing from the South, a Munro I’d previously climbed.

Following this it would be Bridge of Orchy, Inveroran and then over Rannoch Moor, but that’s one for tomorrow.

Day 5, Tyndrum to Glencoe

If I were to be broken, today would be the day that would break me, this had been my thinking since I had finalised my route plan. Tyndrum to the Glencoe Mountain Resort as they now like to be known, to most souls though ‘The Glencoe or White Corries Ski Centre).

So 18 miles it was to be. Again it was a day of glorious weather, off I set at 08:30, a good thirty minutes later than I had intended.

Throughout the walk I hadn’t actually put in place, a strategic plan for the manner in which I would walk on any particular day. However as the days had been passing I realised it was not the actual distance that I was walking but the time spent on my feet that seemed to be taking more of a toll, well that and how hard the surface was under foot. Where I had been walking on path, track and road that was hard packed or with little give, I seemed to be suffering that bit more. So today the plan was to move at as fast a pace that I felt comfortable.

Snaking around the rear of Tyndrum I cross the A82 for the first of two crossings for the day. It’s a short steady climb as you follow track which meanders up along side Crom Alt, a small burn that flows down to feed the River Fillan. To the bottom of the hill there are a number of wooden sculptures that catch the eye, just to the rear of Brodies Mini Market, about 70 yards on the left.

There were wee wool balls everywhere, the lambs were chasing each other jumping, running one after another. Others not giving their mothers a minute, suckling like there was no tomorrow.

Skirting the West side of Beinn Odhar, you get the first real view of the day, a day where the views just get better and better. Beinn Dorain just seems to get bigger and bigger, for anyone driving North and seeing this for the first time must think to themselves, wow! The first full on view Beinn Dorain has the look of the mountain that a child would draw, if you were to ask them to draw a picture of a mountain, a big pointy triangle. You’d think this was a monster to climb, the reality is in an hour or so time at Bridge of Orchy Rail Station, you pass what most people class as the start of an easy summer walk up Coire an Dothaidh, a corrie that leads to a fine broad ridge which takes you to the summit Cairn of Beinn Dorain.

Back on the track, I head down the hill taking an underpass below the railway line, continuing down into the valley floor as a train passes high on the hill behind me, then swings wide into the glen crossing the waters of Allt Corolan and Allt Kinglass before swinging back again to run adjacent with the Way. I then pass Auch Estate with its Heilan Coos and and what looks like Pheasant Pens.

The next short section takes you to Bridge of Orchy, not before giving lovely views to the West down Glen Orchy towards Dalmally. Taking no time here though I bypass the Bridge of Orchy Hotel and cross the River Orchy and head of North.

From the Bridge of Orchy the ‘Way’ climbs again, firstly through a forested area before the open hillside of Beinn Inverveigh, heading for the cairn of Mam Carraigh, which gives views over Loch Tulla, the Black Mount and Rannoch Moor. My lunch stop at Inveroran not yet in sight, tucked into the foot of my present hill, I stop for a few minutes and take in the views and hand out a few of my guilty pleasure, Wine Gums, to a little lady and her mother who themselves have walked up from Inveroran.

A quick drop from the cairn leads me to the Inveroran Hotel and into the pub where I was joined by two lads I had passed a couple of miles back. We sat and enjoyed a Panini each and a couple of soft drinks, the ‘Sweet Chilli Chicken Panini’ was lovely. We sit and chat for a time, it turns out both are retired. Early retirement may I add, lucky sods, both worked with BAE at Barrow In Furnace in Ship Building.

After lunch we leave at the same time, I bid them farewell however as I’m wanting to continue with the pace I’d set myself. Rounding Loch Tulla I come to the Victoria Bridge, no guesses to who this is named after? The views into the Black Mount are stunning from here, honestly. If your in luck, the chances are you’ll get a close up of the locals. Like many places around here, Inveroran has a small deer population that are pretty much resident, it’s best to avoid feeding them, no matter how hard that may be.

A steady incline takes me up through a small area of Scots Pine, it’s not long though before it’s opens to the true Rannoch Moor, Black Mount to the West, several Lochs to the East, the largest of these being Loch Ba. In the distance I could see Schiehallion, the Fairy Mountain and also the birth place of the humble contour line that adorns every OS, Harvey or any other Ordnance Map we choose to use.

Now this had been the warmest day for me so far, I can honestly give my sympathies to anyone who gets a Force 10 and horizontal precipitation, this section must be a total bugger for there is litterally no place to shelter. As I round Meall a’ Bhuiridh I see the iconic shape of my favourite mountain coming into view, the mighty Herdsman or Shepherd of Glen Etive. Stob Dearg towers high above the A82, the first of four tops on the ridge of Buachaille Etive Mor and one of two Munros on this massive. The other being Stob na Broige, the farthest top on the ridge.

I now sweep down to the North West, not long after I hit the road that takes me up to the Glencoe Mountain Resort, it so happens there is a Mountain Biking Event on and the place is mobbed. I head into the cafe and order a couple of beers, plant my backside in a leather sofa and enjoy my views of the Buachaille, it was now 15:30 and I had managed the 18 miles in just under six hours taking into consideration my lunch stop.

The Glencoe Mountain Resort, has areas for tents, it also allows people to stay over in their car park in their vans or campervans. I don’t know if that was due to the Mountain Biking Event or if it’s the norm though, they also have Hobbit Houses, again one of these little huts would be my home for the night. Not as grand as ‘By The Way’ but everything I needed and better views.

Tonight I’d have an early night, for tomorrow I’d be up before dawn to get pictures of sunrise over the Buachaille. This was again a top day, another that’ll stay with me, Scotland is really just a picture book of memories.

Day 6 , Glencoe to Kinlochleven

This was the part of the walk that had been in my mind more than any other, except perhaps the actual finish. I had packed my tripod for this one morning and prayed for the weather gods to allow for a decent sunrise, to bless the slopes of the mighty Buachaille’s, Stob Dearg with morning rays.

Alarm had been set for 04:15, excitement or just sheer fear of over sleeping however, has my eyes open at 04:10, like a kid on Christmas morning. Bouncing out of the sleeping bag, up with the blind on my Hobbit House door and HALLELUJAH, cloudless, happy days!

Now I should know better, but as I said, that Christmas morning feeling had me bounding down the road to find my perch where I’d catch the morning sun that would grace the face of the Shepherd. Suddenly I stop and get that feeling that I’m being watched, as I turn I’m lucky enough to see two deer peering at me, I manage to nick a picture, unfortunately I hadn’t lifted my longer lens, that’s the breaks though I suppose.

A few minutes later, tripod set, remote plugged in, can’t have that camera shake and then it’s just a waiting game. I check the time and it’s just leaving 04:30…….it’s a little chilly, sh*t, I’m standing here in shorts and t-shirt, I forgot to lift my micro-fleece, never mind my insulated jacket. Och well, too late, Spring time ‘Brass Monkey’ it is, time to get the balls froze off!

Just a waiting game now, it pretty much feels like I have Glencoe and Rannoch Moor all to myself me, such a wonderful silence. Hauntingly beautiful, these are times you don’t often experience.

I spin the camera round and catch a single shot of the sun breaking over Stob na Cruaiche, flip back and it’s crosshairs on the target. The orange glow descends first on the tip of Stob Dearg, slowly working its way down this famous face, breathing life into the legendary wrinkles of its climbing routes, The Rannoch Wall, Central Buttress and Curved Ridge to name a few. This is what it means to be snap happy.  Cold! Who’s cold?

Arriving back at my temporary abode, I do what has become my morning ritual of ‘tape, talc and vaseline’ (all saving graces), I pack my rucksack before depositing it at the pickup point for Go Haggis.

Off I go, a leisurely plod takes me to the Kingshouse where I’ll be having breakfast. The Kingshouse is currently under a major renovation(2017), so it’s into the temporary cafe adjoining the temporary bunkhouse that’s been built while these works are ongoing. What a nice breakfast it was, with very pleasant service may I add.

And so it begins in earnest, the shortest day of the week, time for the ‘Devils Staircase’ bring it on. The walk along towards the bottom of the ‘Devils Staircase’ sees me passed by a multitude of mountain bikers that I had exchanged pleasantries with at the car park of the Kingshouse. This turns into a game of the ‘Tortoise and the Hare’ as we leap frog each other all the way up to the top of the Staircase, that’s punctures for you, honest I wasn’t smug at all.

It’s here I turn around and soak in the views that have tugging at my shirt tail for the last half hour, with Coire na Tulaich, the main summer walking route onto both Stob Dearg and the ridge of Buachaille Etive Mor taking centre stage.

Heading North, I start my decent to Kinlochleven, reasonably gradual at first, well steady at least. The Blackwater Dam spreads out to my right, over my left shoulder, the stunning Aonach Eagach a brutally narrow ridge that is the North wall of Glencoe. Continuing on, the views turn from the downright beautiful to the damn right gorgeous with the Mamores and Ben Nevis being painted ever larger with each step I take.

I decide it’s about time I had a wee cuppa, so time to find a room with a view, or a comfy boulder at least. Then one of life’s random, peculiar events that occur from day to day, I round the next bend and here is a lad sitting taking in the view, flask in hand, we speak and I sit and expecting to enjoy each other’s company for 10 or 15 minutes.
“Hi I’m Andy”
“Hi, I’m Jim”
Bla, Bla, Bla…..

In the next few minutes I learn Jim (Jim Withers) is from Perthshire, or at least that’s where he resides now. At one time Jim hailed from Glasgow’s East end, he used to work with a lad called James Kelly doing Groundworks and Paving, it turns out James Kelly lives in the town I was brought up in, and a cousin of my father to boot. Small World is it not?

Needless to say, we spend the rest of the day walking together to Kinlochleven where it turns out we are both staying in Hobbit Houses belonging to the Blackwater Hostel. It’s quite a steep drop for the final couple of miles into Kinlochleven and we’re too early to check in when we arrive. So what’s one to do? Pub for a few gentle refreshments.

We retire to the bar and have just sat back into comfy leather sofas with a couple of lagers when the two lads, Andy and John from Cumbria that I had shared lunch with yesterday, at Inveroran Hotel joined us, a few drinks later it was time to go and check in. I mentioned to Jim that I had said to Phil (Philip Morris), whom I walked with on day two, that I’d give him a call to see if he was good for dinner as I knew he was due to be in Kinlochleven tonight.

Checked in by a lovely young lady who took us individually to our Hobbit Houses and gave us a quick run down of everything we needed to know, arrangements made for dinner at 19:00, Jim, Phil and I met and spent a good few hours enjoying food and another couple of pints discussing our thoughts of the last six days and our feelings of tomorrow, our final day.

What can be said, you should never be surprised with what the West Highland Way can throw up, from the people you meet, to the to the things you see, the emotions you feel and the memories you make.

Time to get back to the Hobbit House and settle down with my thoughts on what’s been one hell of a day, and look to tomorrow with mixed feelings, I think anyone ready to face their last day, or previously completed the Way will understand the feelings you have on the eve of the final walk to Fort William.