LEJOG Day 76: Inverarnan to Tyndrum

Weather: Unrelenting and incessant rain

Distance covered today: 19.7km (12.2mi)

Last night's B&B: Rose Cottage (£40)

Cumulative distance: 1538.6km (956.0mi)/ % Complete: 80.4%

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 76 (click!)

The only sound I can hear is the whine and stutter of my hard drive and the drip of a leaking gutter. The house, I think, is empty; certainly, I heard a car depart a while ago before absolute stillness descended. Outside my window, directly in front of me, there is a magnificent panorama of an unremarkable Highland peak, rendered exquisite in a light-show fashioned by scudding clouds and the odd, unexpected shaft of sunlight in the relentless rain. The weather yesterday was appalling and the forecast isn’t much good either, but then this is Scotland.  Provided there is a way to dry sodden articles of clothing, it doesn’t much matter that one arrives at one’s destination drenched comprehensively to the skin.  The only issue is to avoid getting seriously cold and in fact the temperature isn’t all that low. At least my boots are still seriously doing their work. I had yesterday to ford multiple streams that would normally be mere trickles, but which were rain-swollen into minor torrents, necessitating walking-pole assisted leaps from submerged rock to rock. My socks by day’s end were still almost completely dry. It makes the Battle of the Little Toes worth the pain!

I probably didn’t need to take today off as a rest day, especially as I have another one scheduled for Fort William in just three days’ time. These things were hard to predict when I was planning my journey, even when I was well into it. At the time I had no idea of how the terrain would compare with what I was already experiencing and how well maintained would be the Way itself. As it happens, so far the West Highland Way is unquestionably the best maintained and way-marked national trail that I have encountered on this journey, and, although the daily distances are long (tomorrow’s leg is again about 30km (20mi)), I can by now achieve those distances over reasonable terrain and on good paths without exhausting myself. Heavy rain does though somehow seem to hamper progress, probably needing extra effort over slippery surfaces with rain-heavy extremities. It is also not easy to take snapshots in the rain for fear of damaging the camera, and of course the views are severely limited by the low cloud-base and the rain itself.

By now, I have learned just to take each day as it comes.  A year ago I could scarcely have imagined that I would be happy to spend almost four months outside all day in the UK weather, with only the odd rest day for respite. Inevitably, I have speculated on whether this experience will change me in some way, or whether it will, after just a couple of months, appear in retrospect to be just a protracted holiday in trying circumstances. I don’t doubt that the young Kevin would have been changed, but I suspect that I am too old a dog now. I was actually relieved to hear Veronica report after her last sighting of me somewhere in the Pennine Fells, that I was still her “same old” Kevin.

Which leads me to think about the closing stages of the journey. Right from the start, I was at pains not to see the journey as some sort of endurance test and a race for the finish, which would combine relief with achievement. I was obsessed with the idea of somehow seeing the whole thing in a more existentialist perspective.  I have been warned en route and in the accounts of others not to take the ending too lightly, for fear of depression. All too soon though, it will be over, and, as is the way of things, I suspect that the memory will rapidly dull, especially as I start to address the worryingly long list of things that Veronica and the taxman are preparing for me for my employment on my return home. So perhaps it is appropriate that I try to draw the threads together on the last legs of my journey, from Inverness up the dreaded A9 all the way to John O’Groats.  Do not expect any striking philosophical insights; what will emerge will probably be no more enlightening than some of the pretentious verbiage that you have already endured, but somehow, I do feel the exercise needs to be rounded off, packaged if you like, before being ditched for good or ill.

However, I have a few more days to go and then the Great Glen Way to look forward to before the beginning of the end, so there is no need to rush the thinking!  Getting back to the nitty-gritty, I must apologise for the rather uninspiring snaps below. As I explained earlier, the weather conditions made photography really difficult, as did continuing conversation with a rather drenched and, it has to be said, rather morose “gang of five”, with whom I had again joined up this morning. My interest in each of their contributions continued and I found them to be a remarkable group and indeed fortunate to have each other collectively as friends. It turns out that they have been away more or less together as a group to destinations as far afield as Mexico and Patagonia. I have no doubt that the West Highland Way will not be their last adventure together. By now, much of the conversation I was having with individuals was too personal for this public space, but I really did value their candour and inclusiveness.

As expected, we parted company in Tyndrum as I bade fond farewell to the rather bedraggled group who were not very much looking forward to their final stretch for the day. Later last evening, my host ferried me into the neighbouring village so that I could buy myself a meal at the local hostelry. To my immense surprise, and indeed to theirs, there they were, the “gang of five” having just been ferried all the way back from their journey’s end to the same hotel to spend the night! They were all looking much better for having successfully completed their day’s task, especially as the rain had backed off and the going was easier.  Anna-Marie, very much in character, accused me of stalking them, but I had the feeling the opposite was true!  We have somehow managed to coincide on five separate occasions on the Way, most of which were entirely coincidental.

Strange things indeed are happening to me on this amazing journey….

A typically swollen burn cascading down the side of a Highland hill. Fortunately, there was a bridge across this one

This typical of the streams we were forced to ford on foot

Then suddenly a mechanical digger incongruously in the middle of nowhere! Evidence of how the West Highland Way is so well maintained and of the expenditure on public services in Scotland!

A river winds its way through the Highlands in unremitting rain

More rampant streams to be forded

The "gang of five", now bedraggled enough to be proceeding in morose, single file, thinking about their sodden state

The cloud base lifted for a moment, but soon it was raining again!

Andreas and Anna-Marie as we neared Tyndrum and lunch!