The West Highland Way - Part 1
Walking 96 miles didn’t seem like that much of a hassle. I had never been drawn to the West Highland Way. It sounded nice, but not something I thought that I might do. Much of it passes along or near places that I had already been. I had known that there was snobbery about how it was done (baggage transfers or no baggage transfers), how long it took to complete, and all other appurtenances that endeavour to turn an experience into purely an accomplishment. So, when my friend Ben mentioned that he was doing it and extended an invitation my way I was surprised to find myself accepting it.
Packing took some time, and then there was the time for repacking, overpacking, attempted re-jigging, attempted re-packing before giving in and buying a bigger rucksack. Struggling for time (struggling for organisation), I ended up strapping a lot of things to the outside of my rucksack like a one-man band leaving the shire for the first time.
Walking along and breathing in the fresh air was as nice as it normally is. Taking paths through the surprisingly nearby countryside was lovely too. We fell into pace and conversation with fellow walkers as we worked out how to carry our loads as comfortably as such wild overpacking permitted. Path and pavement were kind on the ankles and murder on the feet.
After a small (and increasingly frenzied) search, we camped in the forest (an excellent location which you’ll find at: thunder.professes.rainwater) and tested our camping skillset a little - ironing out some of the blind spots that city-life had cultivated. The wind whispered through the tall pines of Garadhban forest and, after lights out, the mad and proximate rustlings of the creatures of the night. Soft and reasonably flat ground made for a good night’s sleep before morning roared into the consciousness with an astonishing amount of back pain.
Looping up to Conic Hill before we coiled down to Balmaha in dry sunshine and a light breeze. We walked slowly towards Sallochy where a flat pitch and, later, a full moon awaited us. An osprey was circling overhead as we made it to our pitch which all felt very guidebook-ish. Ben had a bath in the Loch while I made friends with some ducks. More tales exchanged with travellers that night as we bonded over back pain and the miles ahead. I eventually won a long-standing argument with the fire in which I thought it should start and it hadn’t the inclination.
We awoke early and had some coffee before walking to Rowardennan. An initial flirtation with Ben Lomond was ended early – remembering that former gymnasts with back and knee pain (are there any other kinds of former gymnast?) might not survive such forays of overconfidence. The biomechanics of the descent were an absurd comedy. Settling into a steady rhythm of march, climb, and whimper, we continued to Inversnaid where we found some flat ground to pitch our tents. A lovely and challenging stretch where pebble beaches punctuate the path. I met a chap who was trying to complete the way as fast as he could. His left foot was more blister than foot – but he seemed happy enough. Another night with a clear sky and a full moon that seemed to roll off the mountain.
Inverarnan being our next stop and, most invigoratingly, the home of the Drover’s Inn meant that we ploughed on in the knowledge of a good dinner. The bags began to feel lighter as we worked through our supplies of food and fine-tuned our packing systems. The breeze is firm and helped to ease the clamminess in the air. Camping at Beinn Ghlas and hirpling on to the Drover’s where we enjoyed a lovely meal surrounded by midges that capitalised on our decision to eat outside. The campsite had shower blocks thus enabling my first proper shower on the Way - my skin felt suitably de-clogged. Well-fed and well fed on, we walked back to the campsite for a quiet non-alcoholic drink in the pub before turning in.
A long day of walking lay ahead as we set our sights on Tyndrum. Walking poles had given Ben a new lease of life and we had stocked up on some food at a local shop. A breakfast of pot noodles and a few cups of coffee put the pep in our step. Heather lined much of the path and the dryness of the weather brightened and dusted the path. This was a long day and by the time we made it to Tyndrum we were exhausted past the realms of conversation. Some dinner and an early night as the next day was to be another long one.
