Captain's Log

Changing Of The Guard

I slept well last night; it must have been because of the hard walk from the previous day. I had expected Han’s snoring to keep me awake since he was only pitched about 20m away from me. I could hear snoring but most of it was drowned out by the night time road works that were being carried out on the nearby A82. It was a greyish day as I joined the long line of walkers leaving the Bengleis campsite and heading along Glen Falloch and  the West Highland Way. Today’s target would be Tyndrum and, from my 38 year old memory, the trail would be a lot easier than yesterday’s awkward trail beside the northern end of Loch Lomond.

It was an easy start with the path offering some good views of the River Falloch. I soon caught up with Hans and Dave. Hans was still complaining about the weight of his rucksack. Given that they’d both ducked out of doing the Loch Lomond awkward section, I got the impression that they both weren’t fully committed to the trail now. My expectation was that they’d call it a day at some point and finish the walk. This was the last time I saw them on the trail and so maybe I was right. 

Mickey, Karen and Molly caught me up. I asked how Molly had coped with the trail along Loch Lomond’s awkward section, in particular the steep wooden staircase.
‘She loved it’ said Mickey. ‘She went straight up that wooden ladder on her own.’
They were heading for Tyndrum too but were unable to book accommodation in advance. They said that once at Tyndrum, they’d have to catch the train back to Crianlarich where a B&B was available, and then commute back to Tyndrum in the morning. This was the last time I saw the three of them and so I don’t know if their plans worked out. They were slightly faster walkers than me and so maybe I was never able to catch them up. Today, it did feel a bit like the ‘changing of the guard' in terms of my fellow walkers. 

Bypassing Crianlarich

The trail crossed the River Falloch and then used a tunnel to traverse the railway line. The entrance was quite low and I had to bend over to enter it. The tunnel actually got even lower as I progressed down it, until I was actually squatting at its exit point. The West Highland Way now followed an Old Military Road. These were built to suppress the 18th century Jacobite uprisings.  We’ll find military roads on the Great Glen Way Venture too. It was General George Wade who is attributed to much of the road building. His successor Major William Caufield directed the construction of 800 miles of these roads, including those along the West Highland Way. Unfortunately for Caufield, Wade seems to have got the credit for everything, as reflected in the following couplet:
If you had seen these roads before they were made,
You would hold up your hands and bless General Wade. 

The roads were built by troops, rather than civilians. The soldier civil engineers even got double pay for their efforts. This particular stretch was built by the Royal Welch Fusiliers and Wolfe’s Regiment (the chap of Quebec fame). 

Just above the farm at Keilator, a sheep had died next to a stone wall. Somebody had put its skull on the top of the wall which made a suitably eerie foreground to a photo that reflected the mood of the place. There was a good viewpoint just above Crianlarich. It offered a fine view of the village to the mighty Ben More. Somebody had placed a homemade log chair at the viewpoint. I’d have sat in it, but it was designed for somebody who was only 3 feet tall.

Tree Troublers And Saints

The next section of the trail was through a forestry plantation area. Some of the areas had been nuked by the Tree Troublers and this gave a feeling of desolation to the area. The path then dived into the trees and meandered its way slowly downwards. Eventually daylight appeared again and it was a relief to exit this claustrophobic area. The Tree Troublers had replanted a nuked area near to the A82 and consequently there were hundreds of green, plastic protection tubes sprouting up from the ground. Care was required to cross the A82. This was a long section of straight road and vehicles didn’t hold back on their speed. I was thankful after I’d sprinted across to the other side and the trail moved away from the road.  

I crossed the River Eillan and followed the road to the farm at Kirkton. Nearby was the ruins of the St Fillan Priory. St Fillan was an Irish evangelist who came to the area to convert the heathens to Christianity in the 7th century. The monastery was converted to a priory in 1318 by Robert The Bruce who was a big believer in St Fillan. It is said that he took a holy relic of St Fillan into his battle at Bannockburn in 1314. A mile or two further down the trail, I came across a fingerpost pointing to a Holy Pool. Bathing in the pool is said to cure insanity. Given that I’m not inflicted by the condition I didn’t make the diversion to try out its purported healing powers. 

The walk through the agricultural area after the priory had more than its fair share of information boards about farming and the conservation work in the locality. I’d wondered what the tags were around the sheep’s neck and it turned out that they were monitored to see how much they were eating. The information could be uploaded onto a smart phone for analysis. The trail made its way back to the A82 and mercifully went under it this time. I continued on and came to a battlefield where Robert The Bruce was ambushed and had to retreat. He was able to escape. The trail seemed to meander between here and Tyndrum. A sign said that I could visit the Artisan Cafe ‘...only 400m off trail.’ I wondered how many walkers would add that extra kilometre to their day when they were so close to Tyndrum. A little later the path went near to a small lochan where Robert The Bruce’s army were supposed to have dumped their weapons. The information board then went on to say that this was almost certainly not the lochan from the legend and it had been surveyed with metal detectors and nothing had been found.  Even so, there was a nice stone bench next to the lochan with the seat inscribed with a picture of a sword. Just before entering Tyndrum the path went across a very desolate area where lead mining had once been carried out. I wasn’t sure if there were still any toxic chemicals in the ground, but the area seemed pretty much dead to life. I continued into Tyndrum and camped at the By The Way campsite which conveniently was next to the West Highland Way path.

Tyndrum

As I was putting up my tent a fellow approached and introduced himself as Carmine De Grendis. He told me that the Devil O’The Highlands Footrace was starting from Tyndrum tomorrow. This is an annual 42 mile ultramarathon that follows the route of the West Highland Way to its finish in Fort William. He said that he’d helped with the support work in previous years, but he was running in this year’s race.
‘What time do you expect for you and the winner?’ I asked.
‘About 5 hours for the winner and 7 hours for me’ he responded. My jaw dropped. It would take me another 3 days of walking to reach Fort William. I looked the results up later (1st Male: 05:20:05, 1st Female: 06:18:49 and Carmine (MV50 category): 08:17:04). The influx of around 500 runners and support staff would explain why Mickey, Karen and Molly couldn’t find any room at the inn for that night. He told me that they would set off at 06:00 in the morning. I apologised saying that I would still be in bed at that time, but wished him luck and a safe race. Later on he came to have another chat. He was fascinated with my Flextail pump/light that I was using to inflate my mattress, to the extent that he took a video of the operation. 

Later on I went into the centre of the town for some grub. Tyndrum does have the feeling of the wild frontier to it. Apart from the occasional logging lorries, the traffic mainly consists of holidaymakers who either motor right through, or stop to grab something to eat or a bed for the night. The main street is wide and is lined by hotels, inns and cafes. I was glad I’d walked into Tyndrum along the West Highland Way around the back of the town. I reckon that if I’d walked along the A82, most likely the Local Sheriff would have pulled up alongside me in his police pickup and told me to hop in. He’d have then driven me to the other side of town and told me to hop out and continue my journey, with a smile on his face of course (1) . Tyndrum seems like that sort of place. 

I had an unmemorable meal at the Real Food Cafe. So unmemorable that I had to look at my notes to find out that I  actually ate a veggie burger and chips. In the Green Welly store I toured the aisles looking for anything that wasn’t laughingly inflated in price. I bought a few flapjacks and paid handsomely for them. Along one of the aisles, I met a Dutch fellow who I’d last talked to at the unlimited breakfast bonanza in the Premier Inn at Milngavie. He told me that he had taken the Inversnaid ferry to the eastern side of Loch Lomond and used transport to bypass the awkward section along the loch.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell anybody’ I said.

‘I don’t care if you do!’ he replied with a sniff.

It turned out to be a fairly easy day on the West Highland Way, in terms of the length of the walk and the terrain covered. It was a lot greyer, a little humid, and it felt like the weather was turning. The feeling of a gathering storm suited this frontier town. Do you still don’t believe me that it is a wild frontier town? Well, it even has a local active gold mine. Need I say more?