The Plan, as in recent years, was to backpack from either Crianlarich or Tyndrum, to Fort William on the West Highland Way.
And so it came to pass.
Mick Hopkins, aka Croydon (don’t ask him what his dad does for a living), was joining me on this little trip – we both felt we needed a shake-down / warm-up before the rather longer trip, the TGO Challenge. I’m not sure about Croydon, but I was horribly unfit and therefore really needed to spend a few days in the hills, carrying a pack, before the Challenge.
I was very pleasantly surprised to find backpacking & morris-dancing friend Mike Salter on the same train to Glasgow – he was headed out on a bothy-checking trip.
At Glasgow Central we went our separate ways, Mike to find his train to Brigadoon or wherever, me to Glasgow Queen Street to meet up with Croydon.
Our train left Queen Street about 12.20pm, the two hour journey to Tyndrum gave us plenty of time to catch up – and catch up we did.
We camped at the By The Way campsite in Tyndrum - nice and friendly site. Other WHW backpackers were overnighting there too.
This was to be the first night using my new-to-me tent, a TarpTent Notch. I’d played around with it in my garden, but I’d never actually camped in it.
We eventually decided on a pub nosh in the Tyndrum Inn, we’d both learned to take full advantage of being able to eat decent food whilst sat at a table, and using knives and forks. Sporks just don’t cut it.
Next morning we were fed, packed, and were away, plodding northwards, in the direction of the Green Welly Stop and beyond….well beyond actually.
The weather didn’t look promising, it wasn’t bad, but we put on full waterproofs.
At the Bridge of Orchy Hotel we stopped for a much needed and most welcome pot of tea.
Mick soon found a new friend
It was a bit of a tug uphill from Bridge of Orchy, but the view from Mam Carraigh over Loch Tulla made it all worthwhile.
Brigadoon?
The threat of rain had receded, in fact the sun came out of hiding and it got rather warm – warm enough to shed a couple of layers.
We pitched by Inveroran / Victoria Bridge – judging by the number of tents the WHW was busy….a rather large group of Taiwanese were walking the route, although they weren’t camping.
Next day we headed to Glencoe. A stop at Ba Bridge gave us the chance to fill up with water….and grab a snack, ie a Snickers bar.
The WHY followed a really good track, it was impossible to get lost….even for an incompetent like me.
Glencoe Mountain Resort was chosen as our ‘sit at a table’ meal stop. To say it was a disappointment was an understatement: the welcome wasn’t at all welcoming, the tables were dirty, portion sizes were small – we genuinely thought we’d been served children’s portions. A note of positivity: I managed a top-to-toe wash down in the resort’s wash rooms….hot water too!
Glencoe Mountain Resort
Less than a couple of miles further, we arrived at Kingshouse: chalk and cheese!, their lovely staff made all the difference!
The usual camping area was full, the only spots we could find weren’t at all suitable: firepits, lumpy….or smelly – a horrible pong of cannabis being smoked by those camping amongst the trees.
We ended up camping around the back of the hotel – away from the horrible smell. We didn’t want to take water from the river – the bar staff very obligingly filled my 2 litre platy with a cheerful smile…..well they filled it with water, but you what I mean!
I was carrying enough home-dehydrated meals with me so my hunger was satisfied with a lovely korma curry….preceded by a cupasoup. Obv.
A beer (maybe two) in the bar hit the spot – a restful night’s sleep followed. Maybe aided by the beer?
We were up and away by 9.30am, the weather was lovely – sunshine, and just the right temperature for walking. We joined the throng of walkers heading for The Devil’s Staircase.
I was last here almost exactly a year ago, again I was using the route as a warm-up for the TGO Challenge. It was a difficult decision: whether to go on not. John, my best buddy of 50 years, was terminally ill, although the docs suggested he had months to go
Anyway, I decided to go. This road bridge on the A82 always brings John to mind, it was in the early 1970s that I first met John as we rode from Sale, Cheshire, to Kilchoan on the Ardnamurchan peninsula, to attend the Antler Rally, a camping weekend for motorcyclists. Although we lived just a mile from each other, we’d never met until that weekend.
The McNeill Bridge.
Anyway,we rode through Glencoe around 2am on the Saturday morning, John on his Honda 500-4, me on my MZ250. The sight of that bridge was one I’ll never forget, in my mind that bridge has been renamed in his memory: The McNeill Bridge.
We passed, and were passed by, the same familar faces as we ascended The Devil’s Staircase. We took plenty of stops to, er, ‘enjoy the views’….to be fair, the views were rather lovely.
Rather than wild camp on the other side of Kinlochleven which would involve a climb out of town, we opted to camp at the Blackwater site, this proved to be a good choice. Nice showers, a kettle, real toilets: almost everything a chap needs.
A good dinner was provided by the very friendly Tail Race Inn – this eating at a table malarkey could catch on!
We met Linda and Molly, Mum & daughter – Mum had driven up to meet Linda, who was backpacking the route. Quite an inspirational pair, they’d not long since backpacked the South West Coast Path together.
Poor Molly had been on the receiving end of an assault by a squadron of ticks. She’d managed to shift most of them, but a couple had got a grip – my tick removal tool was put to good use.
Our final stage to Fort William involves a sharp tug out of town – it involved lots of, er, ‘photo-opportunity’ stops.
The track was good, the weather not quite so good, although it remained fairly dry…..apart from when it didn’t.
This last day into Fort Bill always seems an inordinately long one. Although it’s only around 15 miles, the last 4-5 miles just seem to go on forever – just when you think the end is nigh, another hillock presents itself….then there’s the long descent that can best be described as a motorway.
Anyroadup, we girded our loins and braced ourselves as we faced the challenge head on ….after all, we’re rufty-tufty challengers, a mere 15 miles is no problem for the likes of us <koff>.
The motorway into Fort Bill.
Glen Nevis SYHA
We booked ourselves into Glen Nevis SYHA, we were both more than a bit ready for a shower, a comfortable bed…..and a nice pub meal.
The hostel was good and very welcoming, I’d stayed there in the past. We made full use of the pub just up the road – a beer or two and a nice nosh both hit the spot.
Next morning we hopped on the bus into Fort Bill for a big breakfast in Wetherspoon’s, then I headed of to catch the bus to Oban, my (Thursday) start point for the TGO Challenge. Mick stayed another night, he was starting on Friday from Mallaig – along with Tracy –aka Baby Croydon. Her Dad’s a football referee.
The End!
A cracking few days away, thanks to Mick for his good company, laughing at my jokes, and not complaining when I couldn’t keep up with him.
We’ll have to do it again next year!
PS: This is Tickless Molly at her finish:
You did well John, quite impressed.
ReplyDeleteThanks Dawn. I was horribly out of condition so it wasn't as easy as it should have been!
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