A long hike is never really over.
We finished walking Scotland’s West Highland Way on September 18. It is still very much on my mind and I suspect it will be hanging around.
There were lessons learned. Both about myself and the trail.
That’s really what it is mostly about in the end, isn’t it? Nobody walks – let’s call it 100 miles – and walks away not knowing something new about themselves.
Even if it is only whether or not you love toe socks.
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There are many ways to hike Scotland’s often challenging 96-mile West Highland Way, between Milngavie and Fort William.
You can walk until you tire and pitch a tent. You can stay in posh hotels. You can stay in bunkrooms. You can stay in budget B&Bs. You can carry all your possessions in a backpack. You can have your luggage shipped to the next night’s lodging. You can dine in decent restaurants. You can eat in pubs. You can stock up on Ramen, fruit, and power bars at convenience stores.
One thing everyone has to do is walk the walk.
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Long hikes through Scotland’s Highlands are hardly a new concept.
Why, as far back as 1654, the 1st Marquess of Montrose (James Graham) marched his 1,500 Royalist troops and Irish mercenaries 36 miles south to Inverlochy in 36 hours in knee-deep snow to surprise the larger and better-stationed troops of the 1st Marquess of Argyll (Archibald Campbell).
Montrose quickly routed Argyll’s men in the battle just north of Fort William — the end point of our West Highland Way trek — and chased them down this path to the spot where I am standing, about 7.5 miles south of Fort William. Argyll’s men were slaughtered, not so much in battle, but in retreat. Barely 400 of his 1,900 troops survived. Montrose lost less than a dozen.
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In Scotland, there are beinns and munros (hills and mountains). Hills are most anything below 3,000 feet and that is what we’ve been mostly skirting on the West Highland Way. They are impressive as you walk trails carved into their lower regions. They form majestic, sloping walls on either side of gentle glens.
Today we are heading into munro country but to reach it, we must cross 50 square miles of the Rannoch Moor, a boggy region of grasses and heather and scores of small ponds and lochanes. I don’t think anyone who wanders off across the moor would ever be heard from again. It is a beautiful and unforgiving place.
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Yesterday, we all marveled at our good fortune. Five days of walking the West Highland Way with absolutely sublime weather – crisp Autumn mornings, cool afternoons, scattered clouds – perfect for hiking.
So, of course, Day 6 would start in a misty drizzle. It stayed like that off and on all day.
“A perfect Scottish morning!” I replied to one hiker’s greeting.
“It wouldn’t be Scotland without rain,” she replied with a laugh.
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If Van Morrison had taken the walk with me today from Inverernan to Crainlarich, he’d surely want to write a song about it. He’s not a Scot, sure, but I think he’d get it in his Celtic heart. Titles like “A Sense of Wonder,” “Into the Mystic,” “In the Garden,” and even “Cyprus Avenue” were in rotation in my head as I walked beside the River Falloch.
This was a gentle one — thank God, after yesterday — no rock piles to climb, few inclines to surmount, no risk to life and limb.
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The WHW trail from Rowardennan to Inverarnan has a bad reputation. No doubt about it. Books call it the hardest stretch in the whole trail. An experienced hiker yesterday called it “Green Hell.”
Let me add to all that: This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. Physically, I mean.
The books say this segment is broken into two parts for a total of 14 miles. The reality is you can add a few more miles to that, and a lot of them require climbing up and down, up and down, up and down — over rocks and tree roots, through boggy bits, up steep steps, some ladders, and along nervously narrow cliff-side paths. There are a lot of undulations in that trail.
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I would like to report that the chubby red squirrel navigated its way up the pine tree to the fifth level of branches with no assistance from me whatsoever.
You may be amazed to learn — as I was to see — that Red carried a small pinecone in its jaws while performing this feat.
Look, I know squirrels do this sort of thing very well without me. But it just seemed so important to me at the moment.
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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.
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How long did it take? Maybe less than a mile. No, easily less than a mile.
But, technically, I wasn’t lost.
I just didn’t know where I was headed.
And I did feel … what’s the word I’m reaching for? Ah, yes: Foolish.
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Musings, Magic, San Miguel and More 