We wake up to a Yellow weather warning (!) for the last and longest day of the WHW. I try to find the positives, noting for instance that the chances of rain drop to a mere 80% at 2pm. And that wind does not appear to be a major feature. Clad in full waterproofs we hit early on what will become an ongoing feature of today: streams in full spate from the heavy rain. At the first hurdle Matt helps a couple navigate over the water and the woman tells me crossly that the situation is "ridiculous". I don't disagree. The sheep seem unbothered either way. An initial steep climb with dramatic views back to Loch Leven and the Pap of Glencoe is followed by a steady ascent to the natural halfway point of today's walk - Lairigmor. The hills rise steeply either side of the glen and with the occasional ruined croft the landscape feels enclosed and lonely. I can well believe the tale that the nearby Lochan Lunn Da Bhra is home to a Waterbull, a mythical creature that emerges from the deep to drag other cattle to their deaths. Eventually we meet an information board which marks our half way point and decide not to take the 'easier option' of continuing to follow the military road in to Fort William (considering the weather and the sore feet I am trying to recall the basis of this decision - I think the completest in us both must have won the debate!) This was however the right choice for as we approached the immense bulk of Ben Nevis patches of blue sky appeared and then, with almost perfect timing, we watched a large bird of prey make its way along the valley. This time, unmistakable. A golden eagle. Once down in Glen Nevis we have only one concern: reaching the official end of the WHW at the 'sore feet' statue in the town centre. Drenched, cold, tired and with very sore feet, we eventually trudge those final few steps, take some photos, before collapsing with a pint in the Black Isle Bar. We made it! Actually, no turns out we have another mile of walking to our B&B but beer and pizza provide just enough fuel to get us over that final line.
Jennie x
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Today begins with a buffet breakfast at the hotel and then straight out in to some of the most inspiring scenery Scotland has to offer. The crags of Buachaille Etive Mor tower ominously as we make our way alongside the main road to the fantastically named Devil's Staircase, the top of which at 550 metres marks the highest point of the WHW. The name applies specifically to the engineered ascending zigzag aspect to the military road likely built in 1750 by some 450 officers and men and who probably gave it this name; a previous name 'Mam Grianau' has passed in to obscurity. The views are dramatic as the weather starts to deteriorate. This section is known for being hazardous in bad weather with no shelter and a risk of exposure. Indeed during the construction of the Blackwater Dam in the early 1900s some of the 'navvies' (labourers on big engineering projects) who crossed the section to seek out whisky at Kingshouse (presumably as a respite from their desperately hard lives) sadly perished on the route. Thinking on these stories we start to make the long descent to Kinlochleven. The landscape is bleak moorland and with heavy showers and a cold wind options for a rest are limited until we find a crag which blocks the worst of the breeze while we have a well earned lunch. The bulk of Ben Nevis can be made out in the distance and there is no denying the beauty of the panorama. Eventually we meet the pipes running down from the dam towards Kinlochleven and the moor turns in to pleasant woodland. We are grateful to reach the town via a pathway which takes in the industrial heritage of the town as a site where high grade aluminium was produced. After checking in to our B&B we head out to find some food and have pizza and Guinness overlooking the head of Loch Leven. I was slightly perturbed by one especially decorative garden facing the main road, not due to its curious display of colourful inhabitants, but rather the fact I am 99% certain a hidden camera was observing me observing them... I decided to comfort myself with the idea that this was a modern art installation making a comment on modern society and the perpetual gaze of the camera lens, including my own. Or, alternatively, it was just weird.
Jennie x So here we are, Rannoch Moor, one of the last wildernesses in Europe. The road is flat, the road is long. The scenery impressive. You do feel like you could be one of General Wade's soldiers marching to subdue the highlands. Or perhaps a Jacobite saying cheers very much for the roads, that's helped us quite a lot actually to launch an attack on the ruling British Army. Either way, there's plenty of time to think and poeticise. Rannoch, by Glencoe by T. S. Eliot "All the way, the road had been among moors and mountains with huge masses of rock … giving it the aspect of the burial place of a race of giants … anything so bleak and wild, and mighty in its loneliness, it is impossible to conceive" We don't encounter too much in the way of wildlife, however I do find a caterpillar and I am not sure which butterfly or moth it will become. Answers on a postcard, although postcards probably won't reach Rannoch Moor. We have our lunch tucked underneath an old bridge and are surprised to find a flock of chaffinches quite keen to share our sandwiches. A bit of a surprise, I expect to see the soaring eagle and not the humble chaffinch. But both are welcome. It feels like a bit of a trudge now but we've passed over Rannoch Moor and into Glencoe, where we can see in the distance the fabled Kingshouse Hotel, the only accommodation for miles around. We're told there's a wedding so we can't eat in the bar and the prices are extortionate, but we eventually persuade them to allow us to purchase some food without sitting in the restaurant. There are stunning views of the mountains all around. We're grateful that we set out fairly early as whilst we're having a beer the heavens open and a lot of fellow walkers arrive very wet. Jennie does wish it to be known that a bunk bed in a hostel block is not normally considered an acceptable standard of accommodation. However it was either this or a very pricey hotel room. I'll take the top bunk then. Water off a duck's back.
Matthew From Tyndrum we have what is, in miles at least, a fairly short walk ahead. But there is an ascent after we reach Bridge of Orchy and we have to follow the military road up and over a ridge, then down to the Inveroran Hotel on the other side. We know we've got plenty of time so we enjoy a slower pace, and it's pretty good weather, sunshine and rainbows bursting out all over the place. We reach Bridge of Orchy without too much fuss which as expected consists largely of a bridge over the river Orchy but does also conveniently have a hotel for a quick refreshments stop. Just as we set off again I spy a bird ahead which I am 70% certain is a golden eagle. It certainly doesn't look or feel like a buzzard to me and this this is the right area. This could technically be our first ever sighting of one but it didn't come down low enough though for us to be certain, so we have to hope we will have another sighting later. We have seen one of the white tailed eagles that dwell near Tentsmuir Forest in North East Fife, and which I was surprised to learn is actually the largest UK bird of prey. On we go and march up our hill in increasingly beautiful weather to reach a rather windblown tree beside a cairn at the top As we descend we have fabulous views towards the ominously named Black Mount range of mountains which fringe the remote Rannoch Moor, which we will be experiencing tomorrow. But first a pleasant and easy decent to the Inveroran Hotel, which is probably one of our favourite places we have stayed so far. The only slight problem was the shower leaking to the floor below so I felt obliged to point this out to the management. I immediately regret this decision because they temporarily close the lounge room with free single malt whisky for the guests. Doh! Lovely place to stay in the middle of nowhere. I don't think we've got any injuries at this point and we are feeling pretty good!
Matthew We depart the campsite and commence the 12 miles to Tyndrum. Not too bad on the rain front this morning, more of a lingering mist, and some moody scenery as we follow the river along Glen Falloch. There is both a road and a railway line running through the glen but it is remarkably quiet. We encounter for the first time the phenomenon of a "sheep creep" as it is named on our Ordnance Survey map. This being a very low and narrow space through which to pass beneath the railway. Someone has helpfully placed a laminated sign warning that the roof actually gets lower as you go through. Neither of us are tall and it is still quite a stoop. Out the other side we cross the main road and begin to climb the hillside using the old military road which much of the West Highland Way follows. As we can gain height we pass through woodland before descending, crossing the road again and then following the river Fillan into Strathfillan. Around here we encounter a sign for the "Tyndrum massage" for which one must call or text Pat. An information board tells us that this part of Scotland receives an annual rainfall 4 times that of Edinburgh. Visitors to Edinburgh often complain Scotland receives a lot of rain but that's because they come in August (for the Fringe) which can be a pretty wet month. In general, the East of Scotland gets less rain... to get wet, go West! (From experience I recommend you don't mention this weather observation while standing in a lift in Glasgow - J.) We have a rest on a bench beside St Fillan's priory where there is a battered old sign telling of the exploits of St Fillan an Irish monk who brought Christianity to this area of Scotland. I also remember seeing his cave in Pittenweem when walking the Fife Coastal Path a few years ago. Jennie has begun to speed ahead, she's bored of my tales about monks, probably. Or maybe this is the point where she realises there are fish and chips to be had in Tyndrum and it isn't that far now.
Matthew First of all we need to get back across to the east side of Loch Lomond in order to resume our adventure from Inversnaid. A lengthy train ride from Arbroath to Arrochar-Tarbert plus a wait for the ferry means it takes the best part of a day to get here so we stay again at the Inversnaid Bunkhouse where we finished the first part of the West Highland Way in June. It is a pleasant evening so we have a wander around the RSPB nature reserve at Inversnaid; A convenient reminder that we are donating 50% of the funds raised to RSPB Scotland. The next day our walk begins properly. Albeit we are not technically on the West Highland Way because the Inversnaid Bunkhouse is slightly off route. We're full of porridge-energy so decide to check out the Great Trossachs Path route back down to the harbour instead of the less interesting walk along the road. And yes, we may have escaped it last night, but it has indeed started to rain. A temporary break in the deluge affords some lovely views before we reach the ferry port at Inversnaid. We are back on the West Highland Way with a view to the curiously named "Island I Vow". The going is fairly typical of this part of the route, ups and downs and lots of fast flowing streams to step over. I'm happy to see my good friend the dipper, in fact more than one. After a few hours we begin to sense the end of Loch Lomond approaching and it seems as if we are about to have a change in scenery. Around this point we encounter a froggy friend. Or is it toad? This debate may never end (Its a toad - J.) Jennie gets a good snap of him anyway. Not long after this I remark upon a strange smell, and try to place what it is. Stinky cheese? I can make neither head nor tail of it until I catch a glimpse and suddenly the smell makes sense. Unexpected. Look, Jennie, between the trees... It is of course the elusive Highland Goat, or rather several of them picking their way through the vegetation on the thickly forested slopes. Our guide book refers to an interesting legend which states that before being crowned King, Robert the Bruce was hunted by soldiers and hid in a cave by Loch Lomond. A group of goats arrived and started browsing around the entrance to the cave. When the soldiers arrived the fugitive King-to-be heard them discussing whether they should search the cave, but they decided that if anyone was inside the goats would not be there, so they left. The relieved and appreciative Bruce, upon gaining power, forbade anyone from harming the goats. We feel very proud to have seen them. By now we could really do with a lunch stop out of the rain, but hold on, what's this. A lovely cottage, perhaps with a roaring fire and cups of tea. Jennie sincerely hopes so and leads the way. Hmm, this'll be the Doune Bothy. Jennie decides this is not a suitable place for lunch and borrows a plastic chair to sit outside, so I join her there. It has temporarily stopped raining long enough for us to eat our sandwiches at least. Just. Ok, might as well get going again! The end of the loch is now clearly visible as we reach the final stretch of the day's journey. It is strange to no longer be looking at Loch Lomond! I should compose a song, perhaps "Farewell Bonny Loch Lomond Side." But I'm wet and I just want to get inside. We finish the day at Beinglas Campsite which thankfully has cabins so we don't have to stay in a tent. Although we do get temporarily locked in as the door jams! We are are also lucky as apparently a couple of weeks earlier they had a plague of midges but they have all since gone! Very pleased about this. It's also raining like mad and you would be seriously worried about your tent washing away (a few weeks later this site suffers some serious flooding). We decide to eat in the campsite bar which is decent although we were a bit curious as to the nearby Drovers Inn, dating from way back in 1705, a time when there were indeed such people as drovers requiring such an inn. Trip Advisor reviews weren't great so we skipped it in the end. Matthew |
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