Last month you left us half way along the trail at Crianlarich, contemplating a day off and a chance to do some laundry. It was also the only chance we had to self-cater during the whole trip and the heavy responsibility of neeps and haggis fell to Sarah and Robin, who responded with a fabulous feast of Scottishness. Just the thing to prepare us for the highland part of the West Highland Way.
Up until now the weather had been surprisingly co-operative, but we were bound to have a rainy day eventually and the walk from Crianlarich to Bridge of Orchy was that day. After Tyndrum it really was just a question of getting your head down and walking. I fell in step with a fellow hiker called Clark from Northern Ireland. I was encased head to toe in Goretex, but Clark was just in a shirt. And he was camping. True, he was only about 30, but even so, I was cold and I can’t see how he wasn’t freezing. Does youth really protect you like that? It’s not how I remember being 30.
Our accommodation at Bridge of Orchy was split between the group staying at the posh hotel and the rest of us slumming it in the station waiting room (converted to a hostel). The waiting room was a little cramped and, after a day tramping in the rain, very steamy. However, all things were equal come dinner time, as we all trekked down to the hotel for a slap-up meal at socially-distanced tables.
The morning dawned to a fantastic temperature inversion, trapping the cloud in the valleys around us. Despite the improvement in the weather, the temptation was too great for Ian and his blisters and he decided it was time to go home. For the rest of us it was time to experience the remote beauty of Rannoch Moor, from Forest Lodge it was 9 miles before we saw another building. In bad weather the moor can be bleak, but today the sun was shining and we were walking along to blue skies and fantastic scenery. Most people stay at the swanky Kingshouse Hotel on this leg of the route, but we were crammed into the micro lodges at the Glen Coe ski centre. They looked a bit like sheds, but they had electricity and comfy beds – what more do you need? After such a fantastic day it seemed to be a bit of a shame, but after the café shut at 7:30 there wasn’t anywhere warm to sit, so by 8:30 we were pretty much all tucked up in bed.
The next morning we woke to another temperature inversion, this time with the cloud nestled in Glen Coe. It was absolutely freezing but I couldn’t resist running out before breakfast to take a peak at the morning light on Rannoch Moor and Buchaille Etive Mor.
Fuelled by bacon baps, we set out knowing that today’s route included the highest point, the infamous Devils Staircase. Despite the daunting name, it really wasn’t that bad. The path snakes up, so keeps to a manageable gradient, plus you need no excuse to pause and admire the view. I stopped to chat to an American couple, the chap was doing the trail in a kilt, which was brave! They’d had such a marvellous week they were actually regretting that this was their last day.
Crossing the summit of the Devils Staircase you are suddenly presented with a whole new set of jaw-dropping views. These kept us company on the long walk along the side of the Leven valley and then down into Kinlochleven itself. As you walk along there is no missing the huge conduit taking water from the Blackwater dam nearly 20km down to the hydro-plant in Kinlochleven. This massive piece of engineering was completed in 1907 for the British Aluminium Company and powered aluminium smelting right up until 2000, at which point the smelters closed and the power station was connected to the National Grid instead.
The Blackwater Hostel is located next to the old power station. Luckily Dave leapt out of bed early to make massive pots of tea and porridge, as at shortly after 8am the whole village experienced a power cut. Pretty ironic given our location next to the power station! Woe betide you if you’d been relying on popping into the Coop first thing to get your sarnis: no power, no tills, no point in opening! Never mind, that night we were due in the relative luxury of the Glen Nevis YH, with a restaurant booking just down the road.
Although nothing like the longest leg of the trip, today’s walk to Glen Nevis did seem like a long way. About half of it was walking down the Lairig Mor (name = big hill pass, which is pretty accurate) and the path stretches off into distance in front of you, dotted with fellow pilgrims just to emphasise the scale. Once you complete the stiff climb out of Kinlochleven this is all you can see. For miles.
Some people finish here, at the foot of Ben Nevis, but we all covered the extra couple of miles into Fort William to the official endpoint. Congratulations to all!
Ali