It’s been a lovely sunny day up here, perfect walking conditions for today’s stretch of the West Highland Way, from Bridge of Orchy to Kinlochleven. The first three miles took me over a ridge to the Inveroran Hotel, an idyllic looking place right by Loch Tulla but basically in the middle of nowhere. I know everywhere looks better in the sunshine but I will be putting it on my places to stay list.
The rest of the morning was spent on an old military road which crosses Rannoch Moor as I headed for Kingshouse. In the early 18th century, there was a lot of Scottish resistance to English rule (I'm sure that isn't the case now) and the King sent a General Wade to the Highlands to assess the situation. His main proposal was to build more forts and improve the roads between them so that troops could move around more easily. These byways were very well constructed and form the base of many of the current roads in the area. Others are used as good walking paths – this one sat proud of the moor by a foot or so and was really solid, making walking fast and easy, despite the undulations. To keep the 1970’s athletic commentary theme going from the other day, I was like Wottle the Throttle.
The military road and an old drove road merge at some point and I met a group from the Crieff and Strathearn Drovers’ Tryst, whose Walking Festival was taking place this weekend. They confirmed the view that the droving roads were one of the few good things England have introduced up here. They seemed a great group and it was a pleasure to meet them.
Round every corner there is another snow covered peak to admire and it was easy to become blasé about the magnificent scenery. I took a lot of photographs but they all really look the same: whereas the moors on the Pennines stretch for featureless miles, in the Highlands you are never too far from a huge mountain stretching in to the clouds.
The afternoon saw me continuing in General Wade’s footsteps. Unfortunately, he must have been running out of stone for his roads as he didn’t bother with diversions round big hills, just built the road straight over them. The result was the Devil’s Staircase, a climb up to the highest point on the West Highland Way at 548m. Surprisingly, given the size of many of the peaks around me, this is over 300m lower than the highest point of my walk, Cross Fell at 893m.
I recovered my breath with a coffee at the top, chatting to a group I first met yesterday and who were having a long weekend away; they started on the WHW yesterday from Beinglas, finish the path in Fort William tomorrow, go up Ben Nevis on Sunday and then catch the sleeper train back home. Lads’ weekends I’ve been on tend to involve horse racing and a few pints. I gained the impression they would still be having a few pints though!
It was a gradual climb down to Kinlochleven, and I was reunited with the van (and Suzanne) around 4.00pm after a 21 mile walk I had really enjoyed. The reunion was in the municipal car park, our base for the night that is more attractive than it sounds. Being new to motorhoming, we hadn’t realised that standard practice in Scotland seems to allow you to park up and sleep in the van overnight just about anywhere. Actual campsites are few and far between and don’t necessarily tie in with stages of my route, so Suzanne left one car park last night and found another one in Kinlochleven for tonight.
Coincidentally, one of the singers I have been listening to whilst walking is Jackie Leven, who has a great song called Poortoun about the decline of a town 'where the River Leven runs.' Kinlochleven itself was built around an aluminium plant that closed some time ago. I'm sure difficult times ensued but it seems to have reinvented itself as an activity centre and looks to be doing okay, although I'm guessing Jackie's song relates to the Leven further south near Glasgow.
Phil and Jackie have headed off for their own holiday but daughter Rachel is currently making the long trip up to walk with me over the next couple of days. If she knew we were staying in a car park, I don’t think she would have bothered. I’ll let Suzanne tell her.
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