West Highland Way recce in August
Posted on Wednesday 21 August 2013 . Permalink
(Anna-Maria writes:) In November 2008 I walked the West Highland Way. For a meagre 5 days I trudged through freezing cold rain, starting and ending my days in the dark. By the end I was incredibly footsore, thanks to the complete 95 miles being a mix of hard-tack, tarmac and cobbles, and I vowed never to walk the route again. So it was with trepidation that I set out on the route for Alpine Exploratory this summer.
This circular sculpture at Rowardennan looks out across Loch Lomond.
Would I find that the change in seasons and a few more years of walking experience would make everything seem better?
Overview of the route
The West Highland Way is a long distance footpath in the Scottish Highlands that starts from the suburbs of the UK’s second largest (and Scotland’s largest) city, Glasgow, and ends in Fort William at the foot of Scotland’s highest mountain, Ben Nevis. On the way it travels the length of Scotland’s largest freshwater loch, Loch Lomond. The route also passes the most southerly highland distillery, the Glengoyne distillery (famous for being in both the highlands and lowlands thanks to the placing of various buildings), and the most southerly Munro, Ben Lomond (Munros are Scottish peaks over 3,000ft). All of these records make it a walk of firsts and unique sights.
It is a perfect way to get to know some of the best parts of the Scottish Highlands and a good introduction to Scottish walking without the difficulty of climbing to the very top of any Munros. Instead the route passes between the summits, enjoying the views and taking in the full splendour of the highland mountains.
Pre-route day: Glasgow to Milngavie
Officially the West Highland Way route begins at Milngavie, just north of Glasgow. However, for those with the time there is a pleasant day of walking to be gained from walking from the centre of Glasgow out to Milngavie, whether you have time for the whole route or only time for half of it, breaking the route at Maryhill where trains can be caught to or from.
The WHW's link path from Glasgow city centre passes this view of Glasgow University's tower, en route to Milngavie.
I had my doubts about walking through Glasgow, a city with a mixed reputation, but I quickly learned that the brief glimpse you get as you drive through Glasgow on the M8 motorway doesn’t do justice to the city. The route I was on took riverside paths all the way from the centre of the city to the very edges of the suburbs and beyond, giving me a different perspective.
I began by walking past the large city-centre buildings along the bank of the River Clyde. After a glimpse of the Glenlee, a tall ship berthed on the Clyde, I changed my direction, heading north alongside the River Kelvin. This river cuts its way through the West End of the city, past glorious architecture and through stunning formal parks. This was Glasgow at its best, presented to me under open blue skies, and I confess that I loved it. If you don’t know Glasgow this walk will convince you that it has plenty to offer.
Leaving behind the final tower blocks that marked the end of the city-proper and the start of suburbs, I found the scenery opened up into wide views of moors, bracken, fields and the Campsie Fells which I would be walking past the next day.
The Allander Water winds among low moorland on the way to Milngavie.
An adventurous final kilometre beside the River Kelvin, where the path became indistinct leaving me wading through high nettles and grasses, brought me to a change in direction. Now walking west beside Allander Water I was soon delivered to the heart of Milngavie, arriving beside the obelisk that marks the official start of the West Highland Way. A fabulous start to the trip.
Day one: Milngavie to Balmaha
I was walking the route in a reduced number of days so I had ahead of me some long 8-10 hour days. In anticipation I set out early on my first official day of the West Highland Way, leaving the deserted early-morning streets of Milngavie behind me. The route quickly took me out into the countryside, via a densely-wooded country park. A pleasant way to start the day.
As the day progressed I found that I could break it into two parts. The first half of the day was dominated by views of Dumgoyne, a prominent, gnarly summit on the line of the Campsie Fells. Passing underneath this and leaving it behind, Conic Hill took over from Dumgoyne, marking the horizon ahead and challenging me with its presence. Before the day was over I had climbed over Conic Hill, a stiff climb for the end of a very long day, and dropped down its other side to the shore of Loch Lomond and the welcome of my bed for the night in Balmaha.
On the right is Dumgoyne, the prominent hill in the view North as the West Highland Way proceeds to Drymen.
Day two: Balmaha to Inverarnan
In comparison to the previous day’s open countryside, the character of this next day was water, since Loch Lomond dominated it.
On the shore of Loch Lomond, ferns are seen in the foreground. Higher up the loch, the going gets rougher.
My day began near the southern end of the loch and I proceeded to walk its entire length, staying for the most part beside the shore. For the first part of the day, wooded promontories were interspersed with peaceful and secluded beaches, looking out over the water at the distant shore and the islands scattered across the southern end of the loch. However, as the day progressed and I left behind the southern end of the loch with its road-access, the path became narrower and rougher underfoot. Sadly, the blue skies also receded to be replaced with a fine drizzle, gradually soaking me for the rest of the day.
Rocks and roots made the going tough for this second half of the loch, with frequent bursts of scrambling over the larger rocks. This section is one of the toughest stretches of the entire West Highland Way and by the end of the day I found myself overtaking others who had also taken on the challenge of the whole of Loch Lomond in a single day and were now exhausted, footsore and weary.
Only at the very end of the day did I finally leave the loch shore behind me, climbing up over a green pass to reach Inverarnan, nestled on the edge of the floodplains just north of Loch Lomond.
Day three: Inverarnan to Inveroran
Fully recovered in the morning I set out on what promised to be a gentler day. While the distance to be covered was still significant, the terrain from Inverarnan mostly consists of wide tracks over moorland and pasture with very little climbing or descent. This is interspersed by long stretches of pleasant forest-walking. The more level well-made tracks allow a faster pace so that this day passed less arduously than my trek along Loch Lomond.
Near Tyndrum, a good stretch of West Highland Way undulates on rocky yet solid terrain. The WHW is generally very solid underfoot, which reduces mud but increases pounding on the soles!
The real treat for the day though had to be the start of the big mountain scenery. As I walked from Tyndrum up to the Bridge of Orchy I was skirting around the base of some huge mountains. Each mountain seems to stand in a solitary manner, glowing in deep emerald greens and smoothly rounded into a perfect cone-shape, giving these mountains a friendlier feel than the mountains I had met in the Dolomites a month earlier.
Sadly the day was heavily overcast and almost permanently raining so that views of the top of Beinn Dorain, one of my favourite Munros and a spectacular sight on a clear day, were stolen by the low-lying clouds. However, the clouds disappeared during my final climb of the day. The rain had left everything shimmering, and wide vistas of Rannoch Moor, the next day’s challenge, and the Black Mount on the southern side of Glencoe opened up ahead of me as I dropped towards Inveroran. In this glowing, golden light under blue skies, Rannoch Moor looked almost inviting – very different to the cloud and mist-shrouded area it so often is.
Day four: Inveroran to Kinlochleven
My crossing of Rannoch Moor turned out to be a joy. The morning stayed dry and the clouds were high enough to allow views of most of the surrounding, lower hills and mountains, even if they never quite burned off enough to glimpse the higher peaks. The sun even shone on me for a brief while allowing me to discover the glorious beauty of Rannoch Moor with its huge open expanses of boggy wilderness. A real sense of timelessness descended on me as I trekked stoically over the 12.5km of old drover’s road which is cobbled for much of the way making it tortuous to already-sore feet.
The track across Rannoch Moor is well-paved for much of its length and allows for quick progress.
Sadly, my luck was not to last. As I reached the valley bottom at the entrance of Glencoe, the famous Glencoe “lid” (of cloud) descended. Within two minutes the weather changed from intermittent sunshine and white clouds to thick grey cloud and mist accompanied by heavy rain.
After a brief rest at the Kingshouse Hotel to sort out my wet-weather gear I set out for the next adventure of the day – the climb up the Devil’s Staircase. The Devil’s Staircase is not as ambitious or tough as the name suggests. With only 260m of ascent at a steady, if steep, gradient, the climb can be achieved without too much trouble. If you are lucky, the clouds will clear enough for you to enjoy the views of Glencoe as you gain height, providing long vistas, both down Glencoe and down the valley beside the famous Buachaille Etive Mor and Buachaille Etive Beag. My luck was not holding and I was glad to have got a look at Buachaille Etive Mor during my descent from Rannoch Moor since the cloud lid stayed firmly in place on the summits for the rest of the day.
It was with a sense of relief that I finally dropped off the moorland, wet and tired, into Kinlochleven, nestled among mountains at the end of a long loch. Cloud-shrouded hulks of mountains surrounded me out of every window as I settled down for a cosy night in the warm and dry.
Day five: Kinlochleven to Fort William
If you walk the West Highland Way in five days, using this classic split to the route, the final day is significantly shorter than the others, coming in at a meagre 24.5km. I was particularly thankful for this fact as I set out in the morning in heavy showers.
Fortunately the route manages to combine protection with big mountains by taking a steep-sided pass between two lines of mountain peaks almost all the way from Kinlochleven to Fort William. The route only leaves the protection of these walls of mountain for the final couple of hours when it misses the obvious direct route down an old military road into Fort William, instead choosing a more scenic forest approach to curl around under the shadow of Ben Nevis and enter Fort William from its eastern approach along Glen Nevis.
Between Kinlochleven and Fort William, the West Highland Way runs through massifs on either side; here the Mamore range is on the right, as the clear track undulates ahead.
Even shrouded in cloud with rain coming down, at times lightly but just as frequently pouring down in sustained heavier bursts, the verdant slopes of the mountains to my right and left managed to look beautiful. It was a fabulous end to the trip, despite the final days of wet weather. I was certainly glad to reach the statue of the footsore walker at the end and fall into a café to dry off with a well-earned mug of tea, though!
The statue at the newly-official end of the WHW, of a weary walker sitting on a bench. Anywhere in the town counts as the end of the Way, really.
Wildlife along the West Highland Way
The wildlife along the route varied and changed with the scenery. On my two days, following rivers and crossing large, open expanses of pasture, I frequently spotted herons and several pairs of nesting buzzards wheeled above my head, shrieking and calling to each other. Some of the buzzards flew so close to me that I could make out the markings on their wings in fine detail.
As I moved onto the shoreside path of Loch Lomond and from there into the moors the change in weather created a change in the wildlife around me. The birds seemed to go to ground, avoiding the rain, with only brief sightings of ground-nesting birds on the moors. However, in the dampness a new creature was in its element as paths became littered with frogs and toads, of all colours and sizes. Even some as small as my fingernail.
A grass frog on the West Highland Way.
Other highlights included a herd of deer, which bounded across my path quite close by after I startled them during my final ascent over moorland to reach Inveroran at the end of day three. However, I did miss the feral goats that roam the north-eastern shores of Loch Lomond. Having seen several herds last time I walked the route I had hoped to get some good photos this time. Sadly I never spotted them. For a brief stretch I could smell their distinct musky aroma, but despite carefully scanning the woods around me I couldn’t see any goats, which I suspect were hidden from view among the trees and tall bracken surrounding the woodland path.
Deer gaze at the camera from afar, on a typically wild hillside South of Inveroran.
Advice for West Highland Way walkers
The West Highland Way is not an easy route. Having walked it twice I know that it is a challenge in every sense of the word. Firm paths, gnarly shoreside routes, stony tracks – these are the essence of the route. They add up to tired and tortured feet, making this one of the hardest 95 miles of relatively flat walking that I know. Along the way I met many walkers all expressing surprise that they were not able to easily complete 20 miles each day, despite having done other long-distance routes and big walks before. This is a long-distance walk you will never forget.
The best approach is to pack as lightly as possible. Take minimal luggage or, as many of my companions this week had done, use the baggage transfer services. Along the way you may meet numerous walkers carrying heavy packs of camping gear, but the happiest walkers are those with small and light rucksacks. They stay light on their feet, easing the brutality of the firm surfaces underfoot.
Am I glad I did it a second time? Absolutely!
Warm weather (even in the rain), coupled with some days of blazing blue skies, gave me a chance to appreciate the Scottish scenery in some of its finest colours – decked out in every possible shade of green and purple. It made me think that perhaps the West Highland Way wasn’t so bad after all. Apart from the sore feet of course!
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