Thursday Oct. 5, 2023
- Start: Kingshouse (mile 72.4)
- End: Kinlochleven (mile 81.4)
- Distance Hiked: 9 miles
After last night’s dinner, it time for me to head to the bunkroom, where I was sharing a room with three other hikers. The Kingshouse Hotel is the only game in town for lodging, but at least they had two options for West Highland Way walkers: (1) the hotel itself – where rooms start at £200/night; or (2) the bunkhouse, where hikers can get a bunk in a 4- or 6- person room for £50/night.
Given the costs of some of my other amenities along this hike, I felt like Kingshouse was somewhere I could economize. I’d be just fine sharing a small bunk room with three other hikers. It would almost be like staying in an albergue on the Camino de Santiago again.
And so, I ended up sleeping in a room with a duo of young women hiking together, plus a male hiker in his 40s, named Michael. After some polite conversation with all three, it was clear to me that Michael was the most interesting one. He’d made a late-in-life career change, and was now working as a police officer in Copenhagen, Denmark. We spent nearly an hour talking, and our conversation was so delightful that we even became companions in the restaurant for breakfast this morning.
WILDLIFE
The hotel restaurant was hopping this morning – and filled with all the familiar faces I’ve seen on this trek. Jay from Hawaii. The four ladies from Idaho. Catherine and her two friends who joined her at Bridge of Orchy. The highpointers from Oklahoma. And a handful of others. It was pretty much everyone on the same hiking timeline as me on the West Highland Way.
But in twist I didn’t see coming, the hotel’s breakfast buffet had an urn of actual *brewed* coffee instead of the typical single-serve packets of Nescafe instant coffee!!! What the … ?!? Was I dreaming? They even had a little coffee machine serving espresso pod drinks too. Talk about swanky! Now I see why they charge £200/night.
After a hearty breakfast, I bid goodbye to Michael knowing I probably wouldn’t see him again. I only planned to hike a short day of 9 miles to Kinlochleven, but he needed to rest in Kinghouse another day to tend to the horribly large blisters on his feet. Like many novice hikers, he’d tried to push too many miles in too few days, and now he was paying the price.
The Glencoe Mountains were still mostly shrouded in low clouds when I left Kingshouse. But, I’d hoped there would be some wildlife to brighten up the day. I’d already seen a red deer with a large rack of antlers grazing just 25 yards from the window of my bunk room this morning. But, I’d failed to get a photo of the stag because it disappeared from sight in the brief time it took me to scramble up to the ladder to my top bunk to grab my iPhone.
Sadly, I wouldn’t see any more of these magnificent beasts during my hike today. But, I knew they were out there because I could hear them in the distance. Their rutting season must have begun and they sounded like they were roaring at each other.
DEVILS STAIRCASE
Despite the ominous weather forecast of torrential rain headed toward Scotland, it was actually dry for the first hour of the morning. There were still low clouds concealing the mammoth Highland peaks on either side of me, but I was still able to get the occasional glimpse here and there.
This was the coldest morning yet, and puffs of visible air blew from my mouth each time I exhaled. My focus wasn’t on the cold though as I trucked through the relatively flat countryside, it was on today’s big event – the Devils Staircase.
The Devils Staircase would be the highest elevation on my West Highland Way adventure. Although it’s only 1,800 feet above sea level, the trail climbs sharply from one low river valley (290 feet), up and over a pass, and then heads sharply back down toward the edge of Loch Leven (22 feet). So it’s known as a real killer on the muscles and joints.
I made excellent time all the way to the gate where this obstacle began, passing nearly a dozen hikers who’d departed the hotel ahead of me. And once I pushed my way through the gate, it was time to get climbing. I didn’t want to be that smug hiker who had no problem passing others on flat ground, only to have them return the favor once the trail got hard.
Everyone seemed to be obsessed with the Devils Staircase at breakfast this morning. And based on all the hype and fear mongering, I was mentally prepared for it to be like climbing the Manitou Incline in Colorado Springs. But the ascent up to the West Highland Way’s high point wasn’t nearly that bad, and it was hardly more than a mile of climbing.
The first one-third was uphill, but manageable. The middle one-third was harder and steeper, for sure. But then the climb seemed to level off again during the final one-third. So all told it was only truly hard for about less than 10 minutes. The really challenge (at least for me) was trying not to turn an ankle on the rocky path.
As expected, once I got about halfway up the climb, I was enveloped by a fog of thick clouds and couldn’t see more than about 50 yards in front of me. There would be no epic summit views for me today. In fact, the only way I knew I’d reach the apex of the climb was the large rock pile resting beside the trail.
LONG DESCENT
Once I crossed over the high point, it was essentially a 5-mile long descent to my destination of Kinlochleven. The misty clouds gave way to rain, but it was more of a nuisance than anything serious. Heck, I didn’t even bother putting my rain pants or poncho on. Today’s rainfall wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near as heavy as yesterday, and I figured that I’d move faster without the extra layers.
Without any views of the valleys or nearby mountains to admire, I directed my attention to what I could see within my small sphere of visibility. And even that was a delight today. The landscape beside the trail was carpeted with brilliant red, orange, green, and yellow-colored plants. I couldn’t actually identify any of them, but they were striking nonetheless.
Heavy streams of water poured down the slopes from above, criss-crosseing the trail en route to lower ground. But unlike yesterday, my feet (mostly) stayed dry. This was largely due to the impressive trail work diverting the water. The maintenance crews here in Scotland certainly are awesome, and I had to stop to take photos of their work.
The further I dropped down in elevation, the more the clouds seemed to retreat as the landscape unfolded below me. It might only be early October, but the it felt like autumn everywhere I looked.
HYDRO
About halfway down to Kinlochleven, I caught views of one of the holding areas for the hydroelectric plant. It essentially looked like a giant dark pool with an infinity edge adjacent to a stone house, and I wished I could have seen the water cascading over the lip of the pool.
But taking a peek at it wasn’t an option. The entire structure was surrounded by fencing and signs warning unauthorized people to stay out. Clearly I wasn’t the first curious person to have this notion.
From here, the West Highland Way essentially merged with a curvy forest road that made steep switchbacks down the side of the mountain as we dropped another 1,000 vertical feet down toward the loch below.
At one of these switchbacks, I could hear water rushing downhill and I took a quick detour off-trail to what was causing the thunderous noise. I was rewarded with awesome views of a dramatic spillway, which satisfied some of my curiosity about the holding ponds and the water heading down toward the hydro plant.
Then it was back to road, and the task of trying to save my knees on the sharp slope that continued downhill. I now found myself leapfrogging with two men I hadn’t seen thus far on the West Highland Way, and wondered who they were. By now, I felt I knew nearly all the people in my little bubble – if not by name, at least by appearance. But, these two guys remained a mystery.
Once I reached the final mile before town, the trail began to paralleling five large, black pipes heading down to their inevitable end at the hydroelectric plant. And just beyond, I could make out the edges of Kinlochleven where I’d spend the night in another B&B this evening.
KINOLCHLEVEN
The combination of my early start this morning and the shorter-than-normal distance meant I found myself walking into Kinlochleven at barely noon today. I’d hiked fast enough that my room at my B&B wouldn’t be ready for three more hours!!
Normally, such an early arrival wouldn’t be a huge deal. I’d explore the town and my environs. But just as I passed the hydroelectric plant, the rain began to pick up. It seemed to be coming down harder and harder by the minute, and I needed to find somewhere warm and dry to wait it out. And that’s how I ended up popping into the Highland Getaway Inn and lingering in their pub for the next hour over a cheese toastie and coffee.
Just as I was thinking about vacating my seat and heading elsewhere, four familiar faces walked in. It was the gals from Idaho! Now I had a reason to stay and cool my heels for a bit longer. I ordered myself a cider while we shared the highlight reel from our respective trips up and over the Devils Staircase. Meanwhile, the downpour outside reached the same ferocity that we’d experienced yesterday, and hiker after soaking wet hiker joined us inside to warm up.
Around 2:40 pm, I figured I’d taken up as much time as I should at the pub. I said my goodbyes to the Idaho ladies and then wandered over to the local co-op grocery store to pick up some lunch for tomorrow’s walk.
Our final leg into Fort William tomorrow was going to be 15.5 miles long and there wouldn’t be anywhere to stop for lunch en route. What’s more, a major storm was heading Scotland’s way and we we’re supposed to get 1.75 inches of rainfall tomorrow, with 2.5 inches more anticipated on Saturday (when I’m scheduled to travel back to Glasgow by train)! That’s a lot of rain – even by Scottish standards.
In fact, the UK government already issued a ‘Yellow Warning’ for the massive storm, cautioning citizens and visitors alike that the heavy persistent rains might cause flooding of homes and businesses, and the floodwaters could be deep and fast enough to cause a danger to life. Public bus and train travel in/out of Scotland could even be cancelled!
All told, it sounds as if the final day of my West Highland Way adventure will be a wet, wet adventure! And I’m holding my breath that all of us make it to the northern terminus in Fort William tomorrow without incident.
