John Hesp's Hike Across Scotland 5

TGO Challenge - A Walk from Glenuig to Montrose

Day 4 Monday - End of part one

The plan for today was to walk along the crest of the hill which runs along the north shore of Loch Leven, and then drop down at the other end to camp in Kinlochleven. The west end of the hill rose directly above my campsite and I’d had a look around the previous evening to find the best way up through the wood.

I was away at eight, just as some workmen appeared and started digging up the track. A rusty old gate just above the camp spot led into a birch wood which was very pleasant. This then gave way to heather and birch scrub, and once on top, heather and bog. This wasn’t so pleasant, and made for very slow going, but the unfolding views were worth it.

Trig point on Beinn an Aonaoch Mhoir with Ben Nevis in the distance

The hard going made for plenty of rest stops.

I try to look thoughtfully at the Ballachulish hills on the other side of Loch Leven

It was a breathless sunny day, but on top of Tom Meadhoin I was suddenly struck by a violent squall. A little later whilst I stood in still air I could see the grass a few metres away flattened in the wind, accompanied by a rushing noise.

I wouldn’t let myself have lunch until I reached the pass before Mam Gualainn, where I was also able to refill my water bottle. Lunch at 2 o’clock.

I’m glad I came over the western end of the hill, but another time I would either follow my Foul Weather Alternative route (FWA) – continuing up Gleann Righ, joining the West Highland Way, and then either ascending the pass I was having lunch at, or merely continuing along the WHW to Kinlochleven. Even walking the road along the north shore of Loch Leven and ascending the pass from Callert might be okay. The north shore looked quite interesting from above, and I’m sure the road is very quiet. From the pass I left the heather and I found myself walking up a steep grassy slope. Despite being steep, the grassy slope seemed easier than deep heather which I’d waded through miles of, and in no time I was on top of the Corbett, Mam na Gualainn – 2590’ 796m.

In the far distance I could see Kinlochleven, my home the the night, and on the horizon the pointy silhouette of Schiehallion which I wouldn’t pass for three days. It gave a real sense of being on a journey rather than out for a walk.

From Mam na Gualainn there was a good walk along the ridge to Beinn na Caillich (Peak of the Witch), and then a good stalker’s path zig-zagged down the east end of the hill to join the West Highland Way, an old Wade road. (There weren't really any road in the Highlands until the late 1700's, when the British army felt the need to beat the Highlanders in to submission. General Wade famously built hundreds of miles of road in order to move troops around more quickly).

I saw a couple of people on the WHW as I reached Kinlochleven, but otherwise I’d seen nobody since the workmen at eight in the morning. A path dropped down steeply to Kinlochleven and after four days of walking I found myself back on the west coast at sea level.

I’d booked a camping spot at the Macdonald Hotel. I’d done this in order to send a parcel of provisions for the next stage of the journey, but I’d overestimated the amount of food I’d need on the trip, so I now had a rucksack full of uneaten food and a parcel with far too much food in it. Some would have to be sent home. I had been looking forward to dinner and breakfast in the hotel, but faced with all this food in the tent I decided I’d better eat some of that instead.

There was one other person camped at this site. I got talking to him and he told me he’d been wandering in the highlands for five weeks. He’d set off from Kent with an 85lb (40kg) pack, but he’d now reduced that to 60 lbs (27kg). I couldn’t persuade him that an axe and a saw weren’t really necessary. Surprisingly he had a lightweight Terra Nova Laser tent. He also had a fishing rod and he said the only fish he’d caught was a mackerel in Loch Lochy. This was rather surprising as it’s a freshwater loch, and we speculated on whether a fish could have entered the loch from the sea via the Caledonian Canal.

I spent about an hour chatting to James in the quiet evening twilight, the tide working it’s way up towards the campsite. He was a nice chap, but like so many, seemed to have lost his way since leaving the army. I hope his stravaig through the Highlands was enabling him to enjoy life better. I know mine was.