After waking up around 8 a.m., leisurely packing, and enjoying a nice breakfast, it occurs to me that our strategy for hiking the West Highland Way here in Scotland is a good one.

Instead of chewing up the entire 96 miles in 6 or 7 days, we are taking ten. This means later starts most days, a leisurely pace, side trips to curiosities, and an early arrival at our destination. Best of all, time to recover from the previous day’s exertions. Oh, yes, and a wee bit more pub time after we cross the finish line.

Take today for example. We set out to cover the nearly eight miles between Drymen and Balmaha. It is mostly a leisurely uphill stroll through farmland, fallow fields, forests, and fern breaks — until you reach Conic Hill.

Dare I say it? The hill is iconic. While less than 400 feet to the top, it is the first climb of any substance in the West Highland Way, and the views of Loch Lomond and its many islands is breathtaking.

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Hiking from Drymen to the foot of Conic Hill: The ‘Honesty Box” said it had the last water before Bamaha. Believe it. Along the way were bucolic fields and forests, and a surprising amount of logging. With rainfall around 200 percent above normal, everything is lush and more than a few shallow-rooted pines have toppled. (Click on individual photos for a better view.)

Speaking of breathtaking, today’s winds gusting up to 50 mph and the icy cold air that made your eyes weep and your nose run while trying not to slip and plunge from the narrow muddy trail, kept the trek interesting.

Conic Hill overlooks Loch Lomond and the West Highland Way approach is from the East, pretty much sheltered from the winds. It angles up the steep side of the 400-ft. hill, hardly the monster challenge that some people claim. But then, I live year-round at 6,400 feet.

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Up to the top of Conic Hill:

To make it interesting, Scotland has been experiencing the wettest summer in ages — more than 200 percent over normal in some areas. The rain-sodden hill is still emptying its bladder, so to speak, and the water has turned much of the trail into a shallow stream.

None of that matters when you turn West and get hit by a freight train of a wind. The first blast nearly knocks you off your kippers. The second tries to take your sunglasses and hat. The third makes you think, “This will make a nice selfie, if I can hold on to my iPhone.

And that’s it to the upper staging area, a struggle to keep your feet and not slip in the mud.

From here, the switchback to the top is steep, narrow, and muddy. You can also just keep walking down the hill on the other side toward Balmaha. Plenty of people skip the very top because they still have another half a day of hiking to Rowardennen.

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Descending Conic Hill:

Since we were staying at the bottom of the hill, I decided to give it a go. I said goodbye to my wife, told her I love her, begged her not to marry too quickly should I not come down, and off I went.

A few times I was grateful that my last words were, “I love you.” But all went well-ish.

The sky was mostly blue, the air was crystal clear, the wind was just the wind, and it was exhilarating. Until it occurred to me that I’d have to take the same mucky sheep’s path back down.

My companions were in a state of mild agitation as I waved my red-and-white handkerchief at them. I thought they’d be cheering me on and asking how it felt.

“Did you get a bloody nose up there?” was the first question.

Some guy came off the top before me and asked if anyone knew an old guy with gray hair who was wearing shorts and tending to a bloody nose. He thought the old chap might need help getting down.

Here’s the thing: I am an old guy, I have gray hair, and I was wearing shorts. But nobody asked me if I was ok and I had a runny nose, not a bloody one.

I’m chalking it up to mistaken identity.

Heading down the Loch Lomond side was a different experience entirely. Workers have been rebuilding the trail with stones flown in by helicopter. Baskets of rock are beside the trail and much work is yet to be done.

The stone steps were pretty navigable — oh my aching quads — until a sprinkling of rain turned the rocks slippery. It stopped as quickly as it started and all was well.

Conic Hill is a popular day hike and there’s a large parking lot and nature interpretive center to prove it. Before reaching that, we exited one last gate and stepped into the most magical pine forest I have ever seen. Towering giants, ram-rod straight, with a forest floor as neat as a Persian carpet.

We were across the street and in the Oak Tree Inn having lunch and waiting for the rooms to open by 2 p.m.

Tomorrow will be the easiest day of the hike, we are told, as we hug the shore of Loch Lomond to Rowardennan. The distance is similar to today’s and the terrain is as flat as me singing Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”

Postscript: We met two delightful couples from Canada the other day and they stayed at the same Kip In The Kirk B&B in Drymen, as we did. This morning, the two women (who are cousins) said they were carrying the ashes of their moms to spread them on her native soil.

They were walking the same path as us but I think the ashes of both mothers will go into their beloved Loch Lomond. “They loved swimming in there,” said one.

“I don’t have all of my mother’s ashes,” one woman said. “Just part of her body.”

“Yeah, you have her ass,” chipped in the cousin and they both laughed uproariously.

“She was an ass,” sighed the daughter.

“But it was a very nice ass,” replied her cousin. More laughs.

Somewhere along the West Highland Way will be spread the ashes of a very nice Scottish ass and if you listen carefully to the wind, you may hear the laughing of her daughter and niece.