Scotland's first long distance walk, The West Highland Way, is 152km
(95 miles) long and links Milngavie (north of Glasgow) to Fort William.
It takes walkers along the shores of the country's largest freshwater
loch, Loch Lomond, and on passed the foot of its highest mountain, Ben
Nevis. What follows is a look how at how two new walkers got on through
one particular day in June 2003…
A day’s hard walk along the West Highland Way ran ahead of us.
From the Kingshouse Hotel lay 18 miles of military built roads, graveled
tracks and rocky footsteps as our trail crossed Rannoch Moor and wound
its way onto Tyndrum. Alan and I edged nervously out of the warmth and
noticed that the darkly shrouded Buachaille Etive Mór seemed to regard
our departure with disdain and scepticism. The reason probably lay in
the near horizontal rain that drove hard at our fellow walkers, and us,
as we made slow progress over the shoulders of early hills.
The weather used many tactics in its onslaught that day – from
rain clouds swooping down from the high peaks of the Glencoe/Grampian
mountains through to swirling winds and persistent downpours. Our quality
clothing and boots struggled vainly to protect us from the worst but the
unremitting nature of the elements soon ground down our resistance! The
only respite came and went if the old military road changed direction
out of the wind or if a forest plantation shielded our steps.
Strangely, this battering and the never-ending numbers of switchback
turnings never caused me to want to stop – enough was never enough!
Before this holiday I never knew I had it in me to enjoy such experiences.
A large part of this was down to Alan’s brilliant idea of using
a luggage transfer service – apologies to the many walking purists, but
this choice seemed to liberate our efforts and we were able to enjoy the
walk for walking’s sake. Another help was that forest plantations
allowed us take breaks when we needed to – previously I would have
cursed at these eyesores on Scotland’s landscapes but now the relative
shelter allowed us to recharge our batteries and watch the countless stream
of north to south human traffic pass us by. In some ways I got so accustomed
to the day’s weather patterns that if we caught ourselves enjoying
a respite and maybe the sun nearly breaking through, we knew we were probably
due to receive a severe soaking within minutes!
And yet despite the weather dominating our day, there was still plenty
to notice and marvel at. Rannoch Moor is a patchwork of grasses, wild
flowers, granite, gushing streams and rugged settings. The professional
road building efforts of Wade and Caulfield lifted our trail across bridges
and allowed the downpour to drain off into nearby lochans. Foxglove, rhododendrons,
buttercups and daises flourished where the suggestion of clinging on for
dear life was the order of the day. Whilst I’m not much of an ornithologist,
Alan was more than happy with his day’s bird watching – our
tramping disturbed many a skylark and further down the way he was surprised
to come across the pitched cheeping of an Oyster Catcher.
Comparatively, the day’s route was far easier going than the mountain
walks of Glen Nevis down to Kingshouse and as such we made startlingly
good progress to the halfway point at Victoria Bridge. We had covered
almost 10 miles in 3 hours or so, which was well above my expected average
of 2 miles an hour. Nonetheless the warmth of coffee and a glass of Macallan
at the Inveroran Hotel did much to ready us for the struggle of the second
half of the day, particularly up the contours of Mam Carraigh. My faltering
steps were eventually rewarded with the descent into the Bridge of Orchy,
where a sturdy military bridge has stood dominating the scenery for over
200 years. What really caught my eye though was the simplicity of the
River Orchy flowing past all manner of colour from its merging with the
Allt Kinglass river – the yellow gorse, green pines and red poppies all
enhanced the location’s contemplative worth.
Away down the Way our trail crossed back and forth across the train tracks
of the West Highland Railway, as we traversed our final valley into Tyndrum.
As this valley narrowed considerably and the railway, our path and the
main trunk road (A82) all sought the easiest route through it. However
the stern munros (little mountains – Beetle) of Beinn Dorain
and Beinn Odhar hampered all, and our weary efforts over the last 6.5
miles slowed as the day’s weariness compounded into our legs and
another gusting wind met us head on. Even surly Highland Cattle seemed
nonplussed at our presence and the fell runners who appeared from nowhere
strode past us with an enviable ease.
Finally the last of these 18 miles were left behind and Tyndrum drew
us into its warmth and left us to reflect on how and why we had enjoyed
such a day.
If you’d like to contact Matt, to ask him any questions or ask
advice, please e-mail him on: matt