The road to hell.

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Gadzooks!

I am sat in the Oak Tree Inn typing this up and every part of us aches. Today was the toughest day of walking I have ever done including the 42 days of the Camino.

It started out easy enough. We made a pit stop in the Drymen Chemists to get some better insoles for my boots, paracetamol and some blister plasters. Drymen is really the last place to stock up for a while.

We left the town on another misty morning and began a gentle climb up into the foothills to the north of Drymen.

By 10am the mist was beginning to burn off and by noon the sun was beating down again.

So much of the track was without shade and the heat from the sun and coming up from the track was already making life uncomfortable. It was calm to there was no cooling breeze.

The big difference between this and the Camino Frances is that on the Camino there are always places to stop a few kilometres apart to slake your thirst and take 5. On this walk once you leave Drymen there is nothing until Balmaha.

The first sight of Conic Hill came into view. We needed to cross it. Whilst it is not big the ascent was on very loose rocks and stones. In the heat it was tough going. It took us just over an hour to get to the top with multiple rest stops on the way. It was tough. Really tough. There was no breeze. even at the top. The temperature got to 26C and climbing in that with a 10 kg backpack  was a real test of physical and mental stamina. Tough enough to make you question why.

Then, once at the top, the descent was equally tough on our hips and knees scrambling down loose scree to start with and then a rock staircase. Mind you the views of Loch Lomond were simply magnificent.

I can tell you that the sight of the Oak Tree Inn in Balmaha came just in time as I was at my energies end.

We had run out of water some time ago as there are no filling points anywhere so the first thing we did was rehydrate. Debbie had the foresight to go to the corner shop and get us some Powerade to replace the salts and fluids we lot. 

It is taking me some time to recover, replace lost fluids and ease tense muscles and joints. 

Tomorrow should be an easier walk north along Loch Lomond. Blisters allowing.

My Garmin has just beeped and told be to move. It can go F**k itself.

Milngavie to Drymen

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It was a misty start to the day. The forecast was for another warm energy sapping day.

We gathered after breakfast with quite a few other walkers to get the obligatory photos with the obelisk and sign that mark the start of The West Highland Way. 

IT’S THAT WAY!

The path strikes north from the town centre and quickly winds its way into tress and moorland. It climbs steadily away from Milngavie which gives the cardio vascular system an early workout.

We chatted to other walkers along the path. Everybody walks at their own pace. Some faster . Some slower. Its not a race.

As the sun climbed in the sky the sun burned away the mist. At times there was no cooling breeze and it become quite stifling under the sun. Moving into shade was most welcome.

The body has yet to acclimatise itself fully to the work being asked of it. Muscles are complaining and the heat coming up from the ground really makes your feet work. Both of us have picked up blisters from having damp feet. But Nil Desperandum. They have been treated and we move on. You would be forgiven for thinking that we were in the Lord of The Rings land with sign posts to beware of Hobbits and to the shire along the way.

The section of the way measures 12 miles. It was a tough 12 miles. The last 3 are on tarmac along country lanes and that’s tough going on the feet.

We were both very glad to arrive out of accommodation for tonight. The Buchanan Arms in Drymen. We were a little surmised to see walkers arriving in the dark.

According to my Garmin I walked 33900 steps. My feet are saying its lying. It must be more!

Tomorrow we climb over Conic Hill. Distance wise it is a modest 7 miles but with the ascent and descent it will be a test. I will leave you with a few photos of the day.

“It will be a short and easy walk” the book says.

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The sun shone in the hotel room window at 7am. Time to get up and get ready for our first day of walking. 

The road took us west along the busy well known Glasgow road called Sauchiehall Street (pronounced sucky hall) to the Kelvingrove park. The park was full of flowers. Joggers were out and mums with young kids on bikes and scooters were enjoying the morning sun. The entrance into the lovely park is a little non descript but once inside it is lovely.

Kelvingrove Park

Dominating the skyline in the centre of the park is the Stewart Memorial fountain. It is a beautifully ornate fountain dating back to late 1800’s. 

All around the fountain young kids played, dogs goofed about and people just walked and talked. It was a lovely and peaceful start to the day.

The temperature was around 17C. Pleasant. I wish it had stayed that way. The Kelvin Walkway leads north along the Kelvin river and it was hard to imagine that we were still in Glasgow City for it was green and lush and fairly quiet. The hustle and bustle was above us.

The guidebook talks about a well sign posted easy walk to gently get you ready for the walks to come. Utter horses**t. Whilst it may be true that the first few miles is well signed and easy, once you get north of Maryhill Park it turns into an unmarked tangled mess of weeds nettles and long grass with “not” a signpost in sight. 

This slowed us down considerably for fear of losing our footing as we could not actually see the footpath in places. The river lies close by and the last thing we wanted to do was end up in it. That was not part of the plan.

We arrived at the road that crosses Balmuildy Bridge. What a complete surprise to see an information board giving details of an old Roman Fort that lay here. It talks about the Antonine Wall. I knew nothing of this. My history of Romans in the UK ended with Hadrians Wall. Not a peep about what I think would be considered a mention in the guide book.

The book goes on to say and I quote “depending on the time of year, the Riverside Trail can be fairly overgrown. (Understatement number 1.) If this was the case between Maryhill and Balmuidy Bridge  you can be sure the next section will be more overgrown. (Understatement number 2.) It was impassable even hacking at it with walking poles.) If it’s also raining you may want to keep your boots and legs dry and take the shortcut along the A879 to join Allander Water which you follow almost all the way into Milngavie.”

The A879 is a main road with a footpath alongside it about a metre wide. It was scary, hot tarmac underfoot, very noisy with close traffic and energy sapping. It was at this juncture Debbie called into question my navigation skills. The look on her face gave me reason to suggest that I needed to get off this path Toute Suite. Finding the footpath that lead away from the road was no mean task in itself as it was overgrown with long grass and difficult to spot until we were upon it. 

The guidebook suggests that one can partake of a cold beer at the Tickled Trout Pub just off the path. The guidebook can go and take a flying leap. If I sat down to a cold pint of beer that would be the day over. We plodded on. I got stung on both hands by nettles towering over the path. I looked back to tell Debbie. She was flailing away at them with her walking sticks. I thought better of a witty repost and continued on.

We crossed the Prescott Bridge. I loved the calm tranquility around the little spot. We stopped for a while and I thought of my friends killed in the Falklands Campaign as was SSGT Jim Prescott in whose name the bridge was erected. 

We are now settled into the West Highland Way rooms. Our accommodation for the night. Our host Gerry came to introduce himself and show us around the apartment. Lovely chap. Debbie has been and stocked up with something for dinner and breakfast. She washed all our unmentionables that are draped around to dry. We dosed up with ibuprofen to stop the complaining legs and hips.

Would I do this day again instead of just hopping on the train from Glasgow Queen Street station to Milngavie station? A journey of 20 minutes. Instead of trudging 6 hours with a 10 KG back pack strapped to me. Nope. Once was enough. We did it in good weather. If it is wet underfoot forget it. I reckon it will be a bog after rain.

According to my Garmin we did 26000 steps today.

We walked around 10 miles, much of it tough going in warm weather.

Tomorrow we head out to Drymen some 12 miles to our north.

The road leads North.

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If the weather is the harbinger of what is to come it is looking pretty good so far. Today dawned bright and warm. The two grinning loons took the train from Worcester to Birmingham and on to Glasgow Central. I was going to drive and leave the car for two weeks in a Glasgow city car park. It would have cost me around £90 to do so. There would always be that niggling doubt whether I would return in two weeks time to find it in the same state I left it. So we will risk the fact that trains in the UK are prone to strikes at the moment and take the iron horse. When the trains are running there is no better mode of transport in my humble opinion. The weather was fabulous from South to North, the scenery of rural England through the Borders and into Scotland is simply stunning and we arrived in Glasgow moderately relaxed.

We chose to stay in the Premier Inn in the city centre. From here it is a 20 minute walk to Kelvingrove Park where we can pick up the Kelvin Walkway that runs north for the 10 miles, 16 kms to Milngavie. The park is a classic example of a Victorian city centre park designed by Sir Joseph Paxton and comes complete with a museum and old fashioned bandstand. Now Milngavie is technically where the West Highland Way begins. But the walk from Glasgow will be a good leg stretch on what is forecast to be a beautiful day.

We checked in and dumped the backpacks and whilst I put the kettle on Debbie settled into her role as navigator to check on the route for tomorrow. It is fairly straightforward.

Chief tea maker in full swing.

The hotel is OK I suppose as city centre hotels go. It was a 15 minute walk from Central station and I reckon the Premier Inn group of hotels is always reasonable for what you pay.

I am responsible for the accommodation choice along the Way and if ever you come this way yourself I hope to give you some idea of quality. We carried a tent and all the stuff that goes with camping the first couple of times that we attempted this. I am a lot older and a heck of a lot wiser. Can’t be faffing around with all that now so accommodation complete with hot showers, comfy beds and a kettle for tea it shall be.

Todays walk was Glasgow Central Station to the city centre Premier Inn.

Tomorrow we head for Milngavie.

West Highland Way Prelude

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September 5th 2023 rapidly approaches. So what you may ask. Well do read on…..

The West Highland Way is a footpath running from Milngavie (pronounced Mullguy) near Glasgow to Fort William in the Western Highlands of Scotland. At 96 miles or 154Kms from end to end it leaves the suburbs of Glasgow, runs up the eastern side of Loch Lomond taking in the magnificent views of the loch and surrounding hills, crosses the heather covered and bleak Rannoch moor, skirts around the towering peak of Ben Nevis the highest mountain in the UK before ending in Fort William.

If you have made it this far you will have gathered that Debbie and I will walk the walk. This bit is the talk the talk. This will not be the first time Debbie and I will have attempted the walk. In fact not even the second or indeed third for me. There is history here. The type that gnaws and chews at your very soul.

We first attempted it right after we got married in July of 1987. It was our honeymoon. I know. Should have gone to Majorca. We still have the original guidebook. That attempt was thwarted when we had a wholly inadequate tent which let in the dreaded Scottish Midge. This is no ordinary beast. Oh no. This minute flying insect is prone to suck the juices out of any bare flesh it can land on especially that attached to tourists and has a bite that itches like hell. For days. And nights. They decided to feast on my face as I slept in the aforementioned tent with the bright sign saying “midges welcome to Marks diner” on it. The next morning, I could hardly see such was the swelling from the bites of the little Bas****s. We abandoned the attempt at Balmaha on the southern shore of Loch Lomond. My father and my uncle came and picked us up in the car. They tittered and sniggered at the look of me. My visage resembled a chewed toffee. My pride was severely dented. I needed a week of antihistamine cream smeared on my face to get back some functionality in the sensory organs contained on it. I never forgot that.

The second attempt saw Debbie and I make it to Crianlarich at the Northern tip of Loch Lomond. That was after about 5 days walking. Debbie had suffered a back injury some time before we made attempt 2 but it returned to cause her too much pain and after some tears it was decided that it was best we abandon the attempt to recover and fight another day.

Attempt 3 was just myself and a friend of mine. We got as far as Tyndrum which is about 6 days in. This time I had to call off whilst my friend continued on and completed the walk himself. My boots caused me so much pain that I had to stop and return home. Then our family started and the West Highland Way was put on the back burner. To simmer and taunt from North of the border.

In 2014 Debbie and I walked the Camino from France to Santiago de Compostela in NW Spain. That was 42 days walking and around 850 kms. We learned so much about our fitness, clothing, feet and mental fortitude.

The West Highland Way is next. The old walking kit has been dug out of the loft, boxes, garage and every other nook and cranny it was found in. Dust was blown off. Cobwebs were removed along with their long deceased spinners. We will not be camping as we did some 35 years ago. Age, grown up family and a bit of cash in the pocket means we can take our time and afford a modicum of comfort. Nonetheless the walk still taunts us. Can we defeat it? What will happen this time? The body is not as young as it was…..

If you fancy, then come along for the ride…..well walk. You will get the day by day low down warts and all. As always I love to read your comments. That way I know that somebody reads this stuff other than me. 😁

Scotland motorcycle trip day 11. Dunoon to Clarencefield.

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Our last day on tour. It was 140 miles to go to Clarencefield. The day dawned gloomy, misty and a fine drizzle fell. It was a day for the wet weather gear again. Our night in the Kilbride farmhouse annex was very comfortable. We rated it 8/10. It was a lovely building but a little dated. The shower needed a little bit of updating but the lounge was amazing and the warm fire lit for our arrival was a wonderful touch. Lala, our host came to say goodbye.

We set off for the ferry to Gourock from Dunoon into the murky gloom. The ferry crossing is around 40 minutes. Once in Gourock we set off south passing Skelmorlie where my mum and dad used to live, through Largs where we stopped for a coffee, climbed up the Hayley Brae and struck south for Dalry.

We passed east of Kilmarnock on B roads that were good quality surfaces in the main and carried us over rolling farmlands. We descended down into the village of Sorn. As we did so out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of red and a yellow roundel on a bike in the window of a small garage set back from the road.

JD Morton and Son. Garage in Sorn with some rather special motorcycles in it.

We pulled off to investigate. Well what a find. In this garage we could see some old racing motorcycles. We went in and spoke to the owner James. He is the son of the JD Morton and son, garage owners. I simply asked him what the story of the bikes was. He pointed to an old black and white poster on the garage wall and said that’s my dad racing in the Isle of Man TT in 1963. There were some beautiful old motorcycles there. James asked whether we would like to see some bikes in another garage round the back. Of course we would. In there was his fathers old bikes and on the wall were his medals and cups he had won on his motorcycles. All this from a chance meeting to go look at motorcycles. Fantastic.

We then headed for Wanlockhead.

It is said to be the highest village in Scotland and is an old lead mining town. We had a brief look around as the weather was still wet before descending down to pick up the main road to Dumfries and onto our accommodation at the Farmers Inn in Clarencefield.

We had travelled over 2000 miles on our motorcycles and it was now at an end except the run south to home. I sat in a chair in our room and relaxed. All the planning had worked. Not planned to death but enough to make a very good tour.

What an absolute blast this has been. I got to know my friend Andy much more. Motorcycle touring with a buddy is the perfect way to get to know someone. It allows you to fully enjoy everything a motorcycle has to offer.

I hope this story encourages you to get out and explore. Life is too short to sit on a sofa.

Scotland Motorcycle trip day 10. Campbeltown to Dunoon.

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We stayed at the Gowanlea guest house in Campbeltown and it was superb. We gave it 10/10 for comfort, cleanliness, amenities and just the ambience. The hosts John and David were just lovely. It is the second 10/10 we have given this tour.

Gowanlea guest house in Campbeltown.

It was raining when we woke. It was clearly a day for the wet weather gear. Once dressed in all the rubberised clothing we set off back up the Mull of Kintyre to Tarbet and Lochgilphead. Here the road splits to Oban or Glasgow. We took the Glasgow route turning off to take another coastal scenic coastline.

It was raining when we left but we were in good spirits.

The clouds hung low on the surrounding hills. The rain found a weak spot in my clothing. I could tell it had. There was a cold spot on my neck that then trickled down to my shoulder.

At moments like this there is only one solution. Stop. Put another layer on to ward off the cold. Regroup. Adjust the clothing and try again. It worked. I was warm. Mind you the assistance of heated grips and a heated seat helped.

We stopped at Inverary for a coffee at the Cafe Bella where the barista, AJ, served us hot coffee. He is from Jersey. How does a man from Jersey end up in Inverary? He explained. We enjoyed the warmth and the coffee. We returned to our bikes and I caught a glimpse of an old Clyde puffer sat on the mud in the harbour. It was the Vital Spark. Well I never. The little steamer was the star of the TV show the Tales of Para Handy based on some very funny stories originally published in Glasgow Evening News newspaper. It was a very welcome and unexpected sight. 

We pushed on up the west side of Loch Fyne and at Cairndow turned of onto the A815 down the east side of the loch. The rain eased off a little but never really stopped.

At Strachur the road leads into the A886  and then at Leanach we turned onto the B8000. To call this a road is an exaggeration for it is a single lane twisting, dipping and heaving strip of what can loosely be called tarmac, complete with gravel, potholes and grass. Throw in the odd local who knows the road and thinks that coming the other way at 40 MPH is usual making us brake heavily and wince then you get the idea. But the scenery along the road makes it all worth while. The peace. The quiet. The sheer majesty of the views. 

Andy trying to get a photo of a seal that had surfaced just in front of us.

We stopped at Tighnabruaich for a rest before riding on to our final destination of Dunoon. A quick shop at the local supermarket for something for dinner, purchased our ferry tickets for tomorrow, a pressure wash of the motorbikes to remove the salty crud and grit accumulated since Skye and we arrived at our accommodation for the night and met our host Lala. The annex at the Kilbride farmhouse was a very unexpected surprise complete with woodburner glowing nicely and set by the owner for our arrival.

We set off in the rain this morning with a smile on our faces and even though it rained all day and we were both cold and damp, we arrived with a smile. Motorcycle touring does that to you.

Tomorrow is our last day on this tour. All good things must come to an end. That is the way it must be. If they don’t the next good thing cannot start. How profound is that to end with!

Scotland motorcycle trip day 9 Strontian to Campbeltown.

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After a scrumptious breakfast looking out over the loch we packed the frost covered bikes and made ready to leave for the 220 mile run to Campbeltown at the bottom of the Mull of Kintyre.

The view from the breakfast room

The morning dawned crisp and clear. It was chilly but stunning.

We rated the Strontian Hotel 10/10. We could not find one fault at all. It ticked all our boxes and more. I came with no expectation. I left loving the place and will return with Debbie in October.

The road up the east side of the peninsular is another single track road but not quite as winding as that on the west.

We stopped to take a rest in the warm sun for a while in a sheltered spot before pressing on to the Commando Memorial at Spean Bridge. What a place. The impressive sculpture of three men stares out across their training grounds to Ben Nevis and its accompanying mountains. Close by is a memorial ground for old warriors to lie in peace. It is a moving place in a very well chosen location. More on the memorial can be found here.

Still with thoughts in my head about what I had just seen we struck south through Fort William, Oban and down the Argyll coastal scenic route. We passed through the fishing town of Tarbet and entered the Mull of Kintyre. (I bet you are humming the tune!!) The weather clouded over and the temperature dropped once more. A few spots of rain fell.

After a long day in the saddle we have arrived at the Gowenlea guest house in Campbeltown.

Now this is a well appointed place. There is a guest lounge that has been very well stocked with fruits and snacks, tea and coffee. The host comes from Whitley Bay. So close to where I used to live in Seaton Delaval. His mum used to work in the same factory mu dad did. You can’t make this stuff up.

I will do a better review in the morning as I am knackered and a bit stiff after todays ride but this country continues to astound me with its scenery, its people and its roads. What a place!

Scotland motorcycle trip Day 8. Portree to Strontian.

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The little white house we rented was a two bedroom fairly old house that had been nicely decorated. I wanted to rent a house so I could do our laundry. That was accomplished successfully so we had clean clothes to see us until home. We gave the place 7/10. It was not cheap for what it was for one night. There were little in the way of amenities for us. OK there was tea and coffee and biscuits but no milk. A small carton in the fridge for our arrival would have been nice. 

We woke to a chilly frosty morning. The bikes had a dusting of frost about them. We set off on the 162 mile run gingerly as the roads could not be trusted until the sun had warmed them up a bit.

We headed for Armadale to take the ferry to Mallaig. Whilst waiting for it we bumped into a small tour group of Ozzies and Kiwis. Had a lovely chat with them.

Back to sea for me. Well for 40 minutes as we crossed over to Mallaig. We took the coastal scenic route through the pretty village of Arisaig to Glenfinnan. The beaches are of the whitest sand and buest seas. They would be comparable to any beach I have see in the Seychelles. Just the sea is a bit cooler.

We spent some time checking out the Glenfinnan viaduct made rather famous in the Harry Potter movies. The structure itself is rather impressive but not so much as say the railway viaducts at Settle or Durham or Bath. The Glenfinnan one looked rather drab compared to the magnificent stonework of the others. 

We then looked at the impressive Glenfinnan monument. More about it can be found here.

We retraced our route along Loch Eilt and turned south on the A861 south to Strontian.

This is a sinuous road that twists and turns its way along the coast and is mainly single track with passing places to pass traffic coming the opposite way. It takes concentration for there are frequent blind bends and summits and dips but what awaits you at the end is worth every mile.

The Strontian Hotel is a revelation. The Owner Julie greeted us warmly. Our room was warm and comfy and well appointed.The hotel is spotlessly clean. Work by local artists adorn the walls. It is a fairly old building and the decor is typically Scottish and very much in keeping with the building. Julie has owned it one year only but she has big plans to run motorcycle tours from the hotel. The hotel and area lends itself to the idea.

We had a great dinner in the restaurant. The Cullen Skink I had was amazing. Rich with seafood and delicious.

I loved the place and its situation so much I have booked to stay with Debbie in October.

Go take a look at the hotel. Meet the staff. Great people. 

We both slept soundly in super comfy beds. A must for anybody touring on a motorcycle. The views from the front of the hotel are simply breathtaking.

Scotland motorcycle trip day 7. Applecross to Portree.

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The Hartfield Hotel hostel gets a 9/10 from us. The welcome we got at the reception was warm and we were given a guided tour of the place. There are good facilities here. Washing machines, a drying room for wet gear, a good kitchen and a lovely room to ourselves. It was warm and comfortable.

The day dawned bright enough. Blue skies with scattered clouds boded well. Until we stepped outside. Then the chill was very noticeable. Andy pointed to an ominous cloud behind us. It started to drop little ice crystals on us as we packed the bikes up.

We had around 170 miles to do today. We had to climb to 2000 feet above sea level to get over the Bealach Na Ba summit so we set off pronto to try and beat the weather.

As we commenced the climb it started to snow. As we gained altitude the temperature dropped markedly and the snowfall increased such that by the time we got to the summit the snow was falling steadily and was being blown horizontally by the strong wind. We did not stay long at the summit lookout point as we still had the hairpins to negotiate and we wanted to get those done before the road became too slippery.

Here comes the snow.

Once on the downward leg the conditions improved markedly. The snow disappeared. It was confined to the northern slope only. On the south side descent the road was dry, the sun shone but the wind persisted.

We stopped at the bottom to get the obligatory photo of the sign before continuing on, taking the turn off to Plockton harbour for a hot drink to try and warm up numb fingers. This is a lovely little place at the end of a winding often single track road.

Happy to have made it over the Bealach Na Ba.
Plockton

From Plockton we continued onto the main road to the Kyle of Lochalsh and crossed the bridge onto Skye. 

Next stop was Trumpan church. I had heard and read a lot about the massacre at the church and wanted to go there. Click here for the story. To reach it you need to negotiate a lot of single track roads. Some in a poor state of repair and the further north on Skye we ventured the stronger the wind got. By the time we reached the church the wind was howling and it was biting cold. We did not stay long and ventured on.

The ruins of Trumpan church.

Next stop was the Anchor cafe at the port of Uig on the NW tip of Skye. It was a busy ferry port and there was a Caledonian MacBrayne ferry in waiting to load for the Outer Hebrides. Revived by a toasted sandwich and a hot drink we ventured up the final peninsular to the northern tip of Skye rounded the top and met the full force of the wind as we ventured down the east side to Portree. We stopped to see the Old Man of Storr, a well known rock formation. My hands were so cold I could not take a photo. But here is one to give you an idea.

We finally arrived at our accommodation for the night in Portree, unpacked the bikes and went for a hot shower to warm up.

It has been another great day of outstanding scenery. Wind battered coasts, soaring peaks, twisty roads, all sorts of weather from driving snow to strong winds and sunshine. This tour continues to exhilarate and the bikes just keep soaking up the miles. Tomorrow we take a ferry and continue south.