26th - 30th September

On a rainy Monday, I met Garry, a Scottish Couchsurfer. Garry has experience as a mountain guide, and also with Mountain Rescue. He often meets up with visitors, taking them around Scotland, and imparting lots of interesting knowledge. My intention was to walk the top half of the West Highland Way, and follow up with some mountain walks further North, then on to Orkney.
After a short stop in Sterling for food supplies, we took a night time drive to Glenorchy, camping at Catnish, next to a river. I’m told that the river is rich in gold, and good for panning. We slept in a small tent, with an odd mixture of sounds: the occasional car driving past, rutting deer, and the rushing of water along the river. I focused on

sound of the river.
I woke up to wind and rain, and a cold reminder that packing warm socks is a useless idea unless you actually remember to put the socks on. I took photos while Garry expertly packed up the tent, and off we drove to the Bridge of Orchy. Along the way, I learned the difference between Sitka and Norway spruce trees, and need to edit earlier entries, as I’d mistaken them for pine. I can now identify Scotch pine, larch and rowan trees, the last with a beautiful red berry, which I’m told makes a lovely jam.
From Bridge of Orchy, we walked eighteen kilometres with our packs towards King’s House. It was windy, rainy, and rich with rivers, small waterfalls, and mountains. My nose ran like a tap, but the walking was easy. We crossed Rannoch Moor, a mostly flat plane, and stopped for lunch by a river and another arched bridge. Lunch consisted of oat cakes and a muesli bar, which Garry calls a “horsebar”. Here, we met Kumi, a lovely American woman, walking

the full length of the West Highland Way alone. I asked her to join us, and so we had company for the second half of our day.
We reached King’s House early, where the wind was howling 41kmph, and the rain came sideways. In the small pub behind the hotel, I packed away two bowls of hot chips and some juice, while Garry rewarded himself with two pints of Guinness. Kumi joined us from her hotel, where she’d been surprised with a triple bed room. She very kindly offered us her two spare beds, and so we ended our first night of walking in the comfort of clean sheets, a shower, and to Garry’s delight, coffee. I slept well, listening to the wind roar outside, thinking how lucky I was to have met such a generous, trusting woman that day.

Wednesday had a comfortable start. We were warm and dry, and headed out towards Kinlochleven, a small town just over thirteen kilometres away. The beginning of our walk was steep, with the path aptly named the “Devil’s Staircase”. I took it quite slowly. As easy as I’d felt the previous day was, my legs begged to disagree.
There was no shelter, and an abundance of rain. The mountain tops were covered in mist. The heather had turned an apricot colour, and there was much more brown than I’d seen in Skye. We took several food and photo stops, and I willed the burning in my legs to go away. Despite the rain, there were still beautiful things to see. Rowan trees overhanging rivers and waterfalls, and the view of the mountains from the mountain plateau. Garry taught us about edible purple clover flowers (slightly bitter), and bog myrtle, a natural midge repellant (slightly citrus smelling). Towards the top, my waterproof jacket ceased to be waterproof, and my arms got quite wet. I’d had the camera hiding underneath my jacket in the front, and whilst it stopped me from getting soaked through, it did get some moisture inside. Thankfully, it still works well after drying out.
After the plateau, the path became much more level. The path itself is

fascinating, a combination of various stones and quartz. There were all sorts of shapes and colours, from speckled stones to large quartz rocks. Any lapidary enthusiast would have loved it.
Around the descent, the scenery suddenly changed. There were more waterfalls and rivers. Silverbirch and rowan trees lined the path, and the mountains ahead were surrounded by a swirling mist. Tree trunks were covered in lichen, and there was green everywhere.
Kinlochleven is also home to a hydroelectric scheme, and an aluminium smelter. In Kumi’s guide book, it was described as one of the ugliest towns in Scotland. Whilst I wouldn’t go that far, the smelter and large water pipes were perhaps not the highlight of visiting.
We arrived in Kinlochleven with a sense of achievement. I was wet, cold, and ready to defrost in the nearest pub. Garry set up the tent at the Blackwater campsite, right opposite the smelter. We walked to Tailrace Inn, where Kumi was staying, and after demolishing a bowl

of pasta, I then polished off Kumi’s chips and peas. Good food was once again inaccessible, but after another day of walking, the substitutes were well worth it. I'd developed a reputation for eating. As much as possible, whenever possible. Walking is hungry work.

Thursday we set off on the final leg of the West Highland Way. Over nineteen kilometres to Fort William, we walked through continuous rain, and winds of over 40kmph, with gusts of over 80kmph. The rain drove hard into our faces, and my jacket and gloves were soaked.
The views however, were amazing. The odd moment of sunshine meant golden streaks coming down through the clouds, over the mountains. It took my breath away, the mist added to the atmosphere, and despite being cold and wet, it was impressive to see.
By lunch I was not just cold and wet, but also hungry and sore. My legs were complaining, and I realised that my fitness levels were not quite what I thought they were. We chose to cut our walk short by four kilometres, taking a country road directly to Fort William, instead of circling Ben Nevis. I felt disappointed in myself, but as Garry pointed out, we wouldn’t have seen much anyway, due to the low clouds. The shorter road was still quite hilly, but I got my second wind when we saw Fort William from a lookout, just three kilometres away. There were several sheep en route, who stared happily at us, and ran away whenever Kumi tried to take a photo. We also came across several people walking in shorts. Their level of tolerance or stupidity I can’t understand, but I am most grateful for my waterproof trousers. I suppose skin is waterproof, they must be more immune to the weather than I felt.
We found Garry’s favourite pub in Fort William, “Grog and Gruel”. I was delighted to find vegan haggis nachos, and drank three cups of sweet tea while I defrosted. Garry and Kumi were great company, and we covered all sorts of interesting conversation.
Having warmed up, Garry and I left for the campsite, and said our goodbyes to Kumi. The site was water bogged. Our feet sunk into the ground with every step, and the rain was relentless.

In the morning everything was quite damp, and I kept thinking of my new friends Katie and Sam, who camped like this nightly, often with no facilities. I am in awe of them and their journey.
The forecast for Friday night included more rain and lightning. Although I knew the weekend would be warmer and drier, I bailed that day and we headed back to Edinburgh. A combination of being wet, cold and tired, along with the constant smell of tobacco, meant that I disappointed myself again, and returned to a warm bed at Helen’s home.

We drove via King's House, where wild deer grazed next to the hotel. The deer are well fed, and quite used to human visitors. I found a packet of oat cakes, and with Garry's encouragement, hand fed one of

the deer an entire packet. She was a gentle creature, and followed me when she heard the rustle of the packet in my pocket.

Helen cooked a delicious nut loaf that night, with roast broccoli, sweet potato, cabbage and onion gravy. I was torn between feeling so well cared for, and knowing I’d miss out on the mountains we’d planned to climb. Helen is a truly lovely woman, she and her daughters are incredibly welcoming. I feel very lucky to be staying with them.