It was a rude awakening as the hordes of schoolkids rose from their rooms and started thundering down the hallway. I lay in bed for as long as I could before finally getting up myself for a shower. I’d booked breakfast with my room, and had to queue for the buffet with all the hungry teenage boys that had stayed there that night. I often use hiking as a good excuse to eat lots of food, and now on day 4 of the West Highland Way (WHW), my stomach was starting to protest a little. I forced the cooked breakfast down, but slightly regretted it, opting to hang around the hostel till checkout time, feeling a little nauseous. With all the school kids off an a local hike, it was eerily quiet with everyone gone. Whilst day 3 had been the longest day of the whole hike, I still had a solid 16 miles (25.5km) to hike that day, so eventually I had to kick myself into gear and get going.
Rather than retrace my steps back to where I’d left the WHW, I opted to use the other part of the Drovers Loop from Crianlarich which meant following the A85 under the railway line and out of the village slightly onto the A82 before entering the same woodland I’d passed through the evening before. This route turned out to be quite muddy and not as distinct a path. It was also steeper, but before long I found myself at the marker back at the WHW junction. Turning right, I was destined for Tyndrum where I planned on having lunch. A large sign indicated that the path was entering Forestry Commission land and immediately the rocky path began to climb. It was another overcast day but despite this, the visibility was still very good with the cloud level high, so on reaching a slight lookout, it was still possible to see the hills rolling away for quite some distance.
Somewhere within this undulating forested section was the halfway point of the hike. With no marker, there was no way of knowing it at the time, and apart from pausing wherever there was a break in the trees to admire the view, I kept up a reasonable pace. There were a scattering of other walkers who I passed as I went, and eventually, after what felt like quite a protracted amount of time, the path turned to head down the side of a burn and pass under the arch of the Caledonian Railway line. Sandwiched between the railway line and the A82, it isn’t far before the route actually crosses this main trunk road, and soon after this a bridge spans the expansive River Fillan. Now I was back in farming country, with sheep filling the paddocks by the path.
Next door to Kirkton farm was the remains of St Fillan’s church and cemetery. There is little left of the church itself, with the crumbling wall shaded in green, but the cemetery still carries many tombstones as well as some uniquely marked stones. There were a few walkers milling about here, some of which I’d see repeatedly across the morning, catching up with them or being caught up by them, depending on where we chose to take a break. Moving on from here the farm track led through a series of gates and fields till it came out at Auchertyre farm where there was a toilet block, shop and wigwam-style accommodation. The farm track led onto an access road where a steady stream of traffic regularly pushed me into the vegetation, before I found myself back at the A82, crossing it once more.
Following the river again, the vegetation was quite open, and I found myself at a sign denoting a battle site from the 14th century. The Battle of Dalrigh involved Robert the Bruce and his men who suffered a heavy defeat, sending the man himself into hiding. A little further down the track, a lochan is reached which is purported to hide Robert the Bruce’s sword, having been thrown in here following the battle. The water was still, reflecting the trees that swarmed the far bank, and giving away no hint of what treasure might lie below.
It was an easy meander through the young trees until it was time to hit the forest again just south of Tyndrum. Historically, this area was mined for lead, and I remember visiting here on a school excursion when I was in high school, but nothing within the trees looked familiar. Passing through the gate in the deer fence, it was then a well graded path again, following the river once more passing the local caravan park, then skirting round the back of Tyndrum, passing the train station for the Caledonian line, and curling behind some houses before crossing the stream bed and up past a row of cottages. Once more back at the A82, the WHW crosses this heading north, but I, like several other of the hikers, walked into Tyndrum.
This is a popular service village to stop at on the road from either Oban or Fort William, with a handful of eateries, tourist shops, accommodation and a petrol station. It is popular with truck drivers as well as bikers, and I remember many a childhood holiday stopping here to stretch the legs. The Green Welly Stop is particularly well known here. I’d driven through here on my way back from Ben Nevis a few weeks prior and had noticed a new and intriguing cafe of the edge of town. I’d decided then and there that that would be my lunch stop for this day of the WHW, but I was immensely disappointed to find that not only was it crammed, but when I actually was able to see a menu, it was simply glorified fast food. So I back tracked to the cafe next to the petrol station and sat outside eating lunch at a picnic table surrounded by bikers. By now into the school summer holidays, as well as being the height of the tourist season, it was a busy little place to be.
Leaving Tyndrum behind, the WHW entered a very long exposed section for mile after mile. I was grateful that the rain had kept away as from now onwards, there was going to be little in the way of shelter. Passing some wood carvings on the edge of the village, civilisation was left behind once more, although the A82 was never far away. As the main trunk road to Fort William from Glasgow, there was always traffic in sight. Despite this, it felt wild and barren. Following an old military road, it was a reasonable quality track to hike, nestled within a valley, and before long a light drizzle had started. Initially between the West Highland railway line and the A82, the WHW crosses under the railway line after a while to keep them both to the left. Thankfully the drizzle was short-lived, and passing under the shadow of a cloud-draped Beinn Odhar, I caught up with a mother and daughter hiking the WHW at a waterfall gushing down the mountainside.
By now, the road and railway line had separated far apart, and the valley opened up once more. The peak of the dominating Beinn Dorain wore wisps of clouds, and the path underfoot was wet in places. Crossing the Allt Kinglass river on a little stony bridge, I found myself on the far bank of the river to a herd of Highland cattle. These are one of Scotland’s most distinctive and recognisable animals with their long coats, fringe and large horns. They are a hardy breed, capable of weathering the harsh and wild Scottish winters, and are bred for their meat, which is lower in cholesterol than standard beef breeds. With the first known mention of their existence being in the 6th century, they have been around for a very long time.
After a while, the path crossed over the West Highland railway line and this was the section of the day’s walk which was almost silent. The road was far enough away now to be ignored, and the railway line was quiet. Dark clouds gathered along the neighbouring mountain tops as I crept ever closer to Bridge of Orchy. Passing the train station and cutting down into the little village, it was rather deserted. Little more than a collection of homes and a hotel, there was nobody around until I reached the hotel itself which sat proudly on the A82. Crossing this main road once more, I popped into the hotel for a less than welcoming conversation with the receptionist that saw me walk straight back out again.
Behind the hotel, the road went downhill to the bridge over the River Orchy and then the WHW left the road behind to quickly pick its way up the hillside. It felt like a decent uphill slog through the trees after miles and miles of easy track on a relatively level gradient, and now, as I reached the crest of the hill, the rain that I had seen threatening in the distance, was finally overhead and it was time to don the waterproofs again. The expanse of Loch Tulla filled a lot of the view as I made my way from the crest down the hillside. There were several groups of hikers ahead of me – the most I’d seen on any section of the WHW until now. As the rain continued, my stop for the night was visible the whole way down the hillside and I focused on this as I zig-zagged down the path.
The Inveroran hotel can be reached by road from Bridge of Orchy, but there were plenty of hikers both staying there and visiting the bar that night. Although it was so busy that I had to wait a while to check in, I was grateful to get shown to a lovely cosy room on the top floor. With nowhere else around, I headed downstairs for dinner after resting my feet for a while, and was seated in the little dining room with a handful of other guests. Due to space, all the guests had to book a sitting for dinner at a set time, but after several days of overindulging in large meals, I found myself finally defeated here.
I’d pre-ordered a 3-course meal when I checked in, and was disappointed to find myself full after just the starter. The beautiful warm soup had filled me up, and I was sad to see my salmon main course go to waste as I forced as much of it down as I could before giving up halfway through. I hate seeing food get wasted, and felt embarrassed about leaving so much, but feeling bloated, I cancelled my dessert order and waddled up to my bed for a much needed lie down. By this stage in the hike, my feet were beginning to ache and blister having traversed over 62 miles (nearly 100km) on some rather rocky and stony terrain, and every time I lay down, my legs throbbed incessantly. But the room was so cosy, and the bed so inviting, that it wasn’t long before I had drifted off to sleep.