The final day dawned overcast, gloomy and threatening to rain. After all, our accommodation last night, Tigh-na-Cheo means house in the fog.

But knowing this was the final day we had a spring in our steps and packed for the last push mentally and physically.

The guide book says the 15 mile walk from Kinlochleven to Fort William is challenging and starts with a long sustained climb. From past experience I know that means argggh! It goes on to say the walk crosses a beautiful high mountain pass and then undulates between open moorland and forests before a long descent down into journeys end at Fort William. Considering that Kinlochleven is at sea level the clue as to how far the long sustained climb would be is that we had to reach the high mountain pass.

We left our accommodation to see two wild red deer munching the grass on the lawn outside. A good omen I thought.

This very day there was also a UK championship trail running competition about to start from Kinlochleven and so it was that just after we started the climb we had to move to one side of the path to let the super fit trail runners pass us. Around 30 of them. That smashed me mentally as I was already in 1st gear for the climb. I had to regather my thoughts.

It took around 2 hours of heart thumping, leg aching, hard breathing climbing up a rough and stony path to reach the first summit. I was goosed already and we had only gone 1 ½ miles! I stopped for a brief rest and looked behind me to see how far we had climbed. The view to the small town of Kinlochleven below was superb.

Then the rain started and the wind picked up. It gusted to around 30 knots. The wind chill was significant. Our saving grace was that the wind was on our backs. Even though I had my rainproof poncho on, plus my coat, thermal hoodie, shirt and vest I still got a bit chilled. The backs of my legs were wet in no time. It was quite uncomfortable. I felt a bit miserable at this stage.

We could have turned back but what was the point of that? We had come so far. The effect of the rain in the mountains was to recharge all of the waterfalls and within 30 minutes the green grey mountains now were streaked with white as foaming water ran down their flanks. It was staggeringly beautiful. There was a silver lining to the miserable weather.

It is difficult to imagine what life must have been like living up here. We passed the ruins of crofts. One even had the remnants of an old plough and farming implements scatterd about in rusted broken pieces. The stone walls of the animal pens were long disused.

Once somebodys home. Now long forgotten. A derelict farmouse at Tigh-na-Sleubhaich. ( translates to the house of the gully place.)

We now joined another of the old military roads that climbed up to the mountain pass called the Lairig Mor. It was exposed. It was barren but the scale of the highland scenery made me feel so very small. There was no shelter. We just had to keep going.

An information board in the middle of nowhere next to a stone cairn. It recalled the Battle of Inverlochy. We were standing at the very point where history was made 1645. The board tells the story of Dairmid Campbell. The board and cairn beside it mark the spot where Clan Donald abandoned the chase of the Campbells after the battle as they headed back the way we had just come through the Lairig Mor.

We skirted the flanks of the UKs highest mountain, Ben Nevis.

We then started the long and knee torturing descent into Glen Nevis and the walk to the end of the West Highland Way in the town of Fort William. Emotions were running high as we crossed the silver line on the pavement. We had the obligatory photos by the sign and bronze walker statue on the bench. In time we would reflect. My feet and ankles were complaining. I was wet and cold but I was warm inside.

That is it. Done and dusted. Toworrow I will give a brief note to sum up the experience. What did we learn, did we enjoy it, would we do it again?

After a days rest in the Kingshouse Hotel it was time to get back on the trail again.

This was the day of all days that filled me with some trepidation. The climb up the Aonach Eagach ridge between Glencoe and Loch Leven was renowned.

We set off on the Way following the main road through Glencoe. It initially climbed up and down gently along the hillside to one side of the road. The massive peaks of the Glen seemed to look at you as we passed by.

We arrived at the bottom of the climb to the Devils Staircase and looked up. There was no going back. One foot in front of the other. The initial kilometre or so was not so bad. The path was rough loose stone which was wet and at times slippery. The heather was blooming around us and now and then a skylark would take to the sky disturbed by our passage.

An excellent piece on the climb can be found here.

But then the real climb started and progress slowed right down. The path took a series of switchbacks up the hill side. Each was around 50 metres long before turning back and climbing. This was a hard slog. It was just a case of keep moving. One foot in front of the other. Every 50 metres I had to stop for a small rest. Then do the next 50 metres. And so on. The stops gave me the chance to look back at how far we had come. The sun peeped between the clouds. The view back down the valley was staggeringly beautiful in the early morning sun.

Slow progress. We made it to the top 550 metres up and sat down by the two cairns of stone that mark the highest point of the entire way between Glasgow and Fort William.  My Scottish mother would often tell me the story of the massacre of Glencoe and how the McDonalds of Glencoe were betrayed. “Never trust a Campbell” she would often say. Here we were sat at the top of the ridge on the very path over which the English soldiers marched down into Glencoe to carry out the bloodshed. For this was another of the old military paths constructed to move the army around quickly to control the Clans.

It was cold so I put my wind cheater shell coat on. The wind was chilly and blowing over the peaks. A snack bar and some water provided the fuel. The views across the mountain tops were breathtaking. What lay ahead was now a long descent. All the way down to Kinlochleven. I just knew my knees were not going to like this one bit.

The rough stone path meandered down the ridge. Sometimes climbing, sometimes dropping down.

We crossed numerous streams draining the upper slopes of rainwater down into the River Leven far below.

The rough stone track then became a stone and gravel service track for the hydro system for the old aluminium smelter far below. The gradient increased dramatically on this track and my knees really started complaining. I was reduced to small baby steps to maintain safe progress and keep the discomfort to a reasonable level. This went on for around 2 ½ hours until we finally reached the little town of Kinlochleven where we will stay for the night.

Our accommodation is the Tigh Na Cheo guesthouse in Kinlockleven.

Tomorrow will be the final 15 mile leg to Fort William.

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. 😁