Captain's Log

West Highland Way

The West Highland Way was opened for business in October 1980. That surprised me a little since I thought it was earlier than that. I completed the trail in June of 1987 and so I guess I was one of the earlier pioneers of the trail. As you might imagine, my memories of the expedition are a little rusty now, but my overall impression was of a very enjoyable and scenic walk. A particularly vivid memory was a wildcamp on Rannoch Moor and sticking my head out of the tent in the morning to a glorious view over that remote landscape. I’ve still got my old guide book and maps. I guess nothing will have changed a great deal over that period, but I brought the Trailblazer guide as well, just in case. I tramped it in 6 days last time and I figured I’d do the same this time too. A 95 mile walk in 6 days is not to be sniffed at, especially as I remember that a few sections of the trail weren’t that easy (most memorably along Loch Lomond). The West Highland Way was actually going to be my preamble to the Great Glen Way that I’d planned to start on the 30th of April. I’d factored in 2 ‘rest’ days between the trails, although if the weather was kind, I was thinking of maybe using those to summit Ben Lomond and/or Ben Nevis. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself though. Take each day as it comes. As it turned out, I never did get a rest day.

Milngavie

The West Highland Way starts (or finishes) in Milngavie (or mulg-eye, as the locals pronounce it). Mulg-eye is supposed to have an upper crust image.  Admittedly, we are talking about Glasgow here and so the baseline is pretty low. The odd pronunciation of the town was ridiculed in a Glaswegian 1920's rhyme:

Yet I've herd in Milngavie,

The folk are quite reserved and shy,

And every house has got a slavey,

Who's taught to call the place Milngavie.

I stayed at the town's Premier Inn so that I could get an early start on the trail. All of the people filling their guts on the Premier Inn's unlimited breakfast deal were West Highland Wayers (WHWers).  Nearly all of these were foreign and were using baggage delivery services to take their luggage between stages. The majority of the walkers evidently tackle the trail this way. 

I called in at the M&S Food Hall on the way to the start and stocked up on sandwiches, biscuits and cakes. There was no expense spared. Well, it was M&S after all, and I wondered whether I'd overdone it a bit when I heaved my huge rucksack on to my shoulders.

It wasn’t the most subtle of trailheads; there was  a large sign above the footpath and it felt a bit like the entrance to a theme park ride. Just the West Highland Way obelisk on the High Street would have been sufficient for me. Personally, I prefer trailheads to be a little bit more subtle. At least there’s no danger of going wrong at the start. There was a Greggs next door to the starting block, but for once I relinquished the temptation to enter its domain due to me pushing the envelope with the Premier Inn's unlimited breakfast. It was with legs bowed due to the mass of my rucksack that I waddled my way under the West Highland Way starting banner.

After the razzmatazz of the first 10 metres it came as a bit of a shock that I found myself on the actual trail with only direction posts to keep me company. Well, the posts and the dozens of other walkers that were setting off on the trail today. My target for the day was Drymen (pronounced as in women). I'm not sure why Scotland keep pronouncing things differently to the way they are spelt.

Dumgoyne

It was a pleasant start along woodland trails. There was a mood of bonhomie amongst the walkers. I kept passing and being overtaken by a couple with a labrador dog. The fellow looked a bit like Biff, the vocalist in the heavy metal group, Saxon. Our paths crossed a lot over the next few days and I later found out that he was Mickey, with his partner Karen and their dog Molly. It wasn’t long before we saw our first real hill, Drumgoyne. It is an impressive lump, surprisingly only 427m high, but has some impressive crags guarding its summit. Before reaching that though, the trail went past the curious Craigallian Fire Memorial. It marks the spot where people would meet in the 1920s and ‘30s and sit around a fire to tell stories, drink tea and discuss whatever they liked. Some of these people campaigned for greater access to the countryside and so I think this small memorial was well justified.   

The early morning greyness had gone, to be replaced by sunshine. Dumgoyne looked even more majestic the closer I got. Some highland cows tramped across the field to inspect the walkers plodding alongside it. The day felt very Scottish. The trail bypassed Dumgoyne on its west side. There was an option to visit the Dumgoyne distillery, but I still had a way to go until Drymen and thought that some whisky sampling wouldn’t be conducive to a timely finish.

Turnip The Beet

There had been a few notices along the trail for a café known as Turnip The Beet. I thought it was a good name and so decided that I’d stop there to get a coffee. After a stretch along a disused railway line, I reached the establishment. There was an honesty box with a selection of goodies at the entrance for those that were too shy to go inside. I ordered coffee and cake and sat outside at a table. An American woman sat on the other side of the table, but made it obvious she wasn’t up for conversation. I saw her a few times over the next few days, with three other lady friends. They kept themselves to themselves and I didn’t see them talking to anybody else. It seemed a little odd to me. Part of the travel experience is talking to people on the trail, or maybe that’s just me. Turnip The Beet was very good. If I’d not bought half the contents of the M&S Food Hall this morning, I would have definitely had a meal there. Instead I only had room for coffee and cake. 

Drymen

Dumgoyne that had been ahead of me for so long, seemed far behind now.  I dropped down into the twee village of Gartness that had a pretty little river flowing next to it. Mickey and Karen took Molly down to the river side so that the dog could cool off in the water. The weather was so good, it was hard to believe I was in Scotland. After a short stretch of road walking, I reached the Drymen campsite. I said goodbye to my new walking friends as they would be staying in the village of Drymen itself, another 30 minutes further on.  

Drymen campsite turned out to be excellent. There were decent pitches and a barn structure with patio tables. The showers and toilets were located around the internal perimeter of the barn which felt a little odd, but the facilities were good and clean. The campsite also had a small shop.  

As I’d started to pitch my tent, an elderly walker strode along the track, trekking poles manoeuvred like Shackleton hauling a sledge, with a grim look of determination on his face. A young fellow trotted alongside him and filmed the entrance to the campsite on his phone. It all seemed a bit odd. Later in the evening, I chatted to the old walker as he went by my tent after having a shower. It turned out that he was doing the John O’Groats to Lands End walk as a charity walk. His wife had recently died of Alzheimers and he was raising money for the Alzheimer’s charity. He looked at least 70 and so was doing incredibly well. His son-in-law was providing support by driving the camper van between stages. 

‘Why are you doing it from John O’Groats to Lands End?’ I asked.,

‘I’ve already walked from Lands End to John O’Groats on a previous occasion and I wanted to do something different’ he replied. My jaw dropped.

What a wonderful start to the West Highland Way. Perfect weather, perfect company and a perfect walk. You couldn’t really ask for more. Forthcoming days wouldn't always be as perfect as this one, but it was a great start.