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(Pic. above shows, Davie McGrath (L) and Gerry King (standing), Bobby Totten (crouching) and Brian McAteer (dossing)


TYNDRUM - BRIDGE OF ORCHY and BRIDGE OF ORCHY - INVERORAN

For a wee change this morning we had some rain! No - we had a lot of rain! The resident food destroyer makes, (hmmmmm), breakfast, (it looks as if it's been fired onto the plate from a cannon), and we're off again.

Again the conditions underfoot make this enjoyable walking. We again stroll out, taking time to enjoy the incredible scenery around us, Ben Dorain is spectacular. It looks as though someone has just picked this spot and dropped this cone shaped mountain on it. It is quite understandable why so many people walk the 'Way'.

As we make our way downhill towards the Bridge of Orchy Hotel for lunch, we notice someone 'RUNNING' up the hill towards us. It was one of the 'Rockets' - who else? She was running back to take a photograph overlooking the 'bridge'.

Lunch in the Hotel was great! Home made Steak Pie and Totties, yae cannae whack it wae a big stick! Well I suppose you could, but you would make a helluva mess of your gear, the table, other people in the general ......... you get the idea.

Heading out we make for Inveroran. This is a short but strenuous stretch with a steady climb across the hillside. The scenery around you now gives you the sense of being in the Highlands, and some idea of what lies ahead.

It was on this stretch we met a mother and daughter team, again from England. No doubt up here to nick eyeful's of our scenery to take home with them.

This section of the 'Way', when levelling out at the top of the climb is a Triple Jumpers paradise.
Every five or six feet the ground disappears below you where the water runs off the hill. We are about to find out that the daughter of this team is no threat to the triple jumpers of today. Following her mother, she attemts to clear one of the smallish ravines, succeeding only in falling back towards our advancing band, and knocking herself senseless.

This immediately makes her an honorary member of the 'Ramblers', and clear favourite to be our leader.

All downhill now we get our first sighting of Inveroran. We start to wonder where they have hidden the rest of it. It could have been much worse though, there could have been lots of houses and NO Hotel. The Hotel owner meets us at the door and advises us the best place to camp for shelter is the side of the bridge nearest to the Hotel. Moving off to set up camp, the Hotel owner shouts after us that the bar is open.

As we stand on the podium getting our gold medals for the fastest tent pitching .......

Sitting in the bar, (all four by three of it), we are more than a little surprised by a racket coming from the hallway. Moments later the families pet GOAT came charging into the bar and wedged itself into a corner. Following some tactical manouvering the unhappy goat is led out.

By the time we get back to our tents the wind has picked up to almost gale force. The weathers not too good either! A mixture of high winds and the constant rattle of hailstones on the canvas keeps us awake for most of the night.

Morning breaking brought relative calm, only the odd burst of hail. The scene that greets us is so different from the previous day. The mountains around us are now white.

Some porridge for breakfast, (cleverly disguised glue), and it's time to tackle Rannoch Moor.

INVERORAN - KINGSHOUSE

No more than a couple of miles into Rannoch Moor we meet Mr. and Mrs. Yorkshire, (McManus & Co.). They have stopped for a rest and snack and the hail is battering them. Coming to think of it, the hail was battering us as well.

Rannoch Moor is certainly a bleak but beautiful place. The colours, views and stillness make it a place worth visiting.

Winding round the old drovers road and down below the 'White Corries' we catch our first but distant view of the Kingshouse Hotel. We also come across the Rockets sitting having lunch. After the usual banter between us like, "what kept you lot" and "nice day for a stroll", we move on.

Arriving at the Kingshouse Hotel we make for the Bar for some well earned food, to be informed the food was finished until 5.00pm. A pint and a packet of crisps later, we head for the Bunkhouse to put our gear away and await the arrival of Brian McAteer who is joining us here.

Good use is made of the showers for both cleaning up and doing some washing of gear. We were also kindly offered the use of the Hotels tumble drier, so we had really cracked it.

The strong breeze outside gives us an idea for drying our tents. Danny and Raymund hold the four corners letting the wind fill the tent like a balloon. At this point we see Brian clambering over a wall to meet us, informing us he knew it could only be our lot standing in the middle of the Highlands flying a tent!

The Kingshouse Hotel again turned out to be a great place to meet most of the folk we met on route, plus some new faces too. Among the new faces are two middle aged gents, one Irish and one English. Both slightly unfit looking and fond of a drink or five. Listening to the stories they told, it was clear to all that they had spent their entire travelling time over the 'Way' in TAXIS.

Following a good night of stories and some games of 'bad' pool we all head off to our beds.

KINGSHOUSE - KINLOCHLEVEN and KINLOCHLEVEN - GLEN NEVIS

Danny, the resident food murderer really excelled himself with breakfast this morning. A couple of young women were sitting tucking into their 'fry up' when our breakfast was served up. Theres nothing wrong with CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP that a decent breakfast couldn't fix! I'll bet they can't say they got that for breakfast in the Hotel.

This turns out to be our earliest start of the week, and as we head off our thoughts are on the Devils Staircase. Standing looking up at the 'Staircase' it doesn't look quite as bad as the name suggests.

Sitting at the top some forty minutes later, and slightly out of breath, we agree that looks can be deceiving.

To say its all downhill to Kinlochleven is a massive understatement. It's more difficult going down than up!

Not quite knowing what to expect, it's fair to say we may have been a little dissapointed in Kinlochleven. One bonus was that the first thing we clapped eyes on when arriving was a Chip Shop.
Black Pudding suppers and bottles of Irn Bru and we are off again.

The first CLIMB out of Kinlochleven really took us by surprise. The steep climb on the loose rocky surface was an absolute killer. It's difficult enough carrying a rucksack up this slope, but a Black Pudding Supper! Anyway, we lived to tell the tale and made our way out towards Lundavra.

Our only complaints at this stage are that ..... it's RAINING and a little rough underfoot to say the least. I don't know what they were thinking of when they built the old military roads. You would have thought the 'wurkies' union would have done something about this job.

Reaching Lundavra we eat and then it's onto the home straight. The information board gives you an option at this point. You can go to Fort William by road (3+ miles), or over the hills to Glen Nevis (6+ miles). We decide on the latter!

Following discussion, we agree to camp for the night at Lundavra. The best site was down a fairly steep hill to our left as we came out of the forrest trail. Unfortunately the two stragglers in our group at this point did not hear us shouting on them, see us waving to them or hear our whistles and headed on across the hill.

Catching up with them a couple of miles on we decide it would now make more sense to continue to Glen Nevis. This turned out to be a tough stretch. We were ankle deep in mud for most part and there were lots of hilly bits thrown in for good measure.

Finally we were heading down the forrest track towards Glen Nevis. We get our tents up, our gear changed, and get ourselves along to the pub.

An early alarm call from the chap collecting the pitch fees gets us up and organised for an early start. Our last day of walking starts very similar to our first ... IN THE RAIN.

Not too bad though, we are in Fort William in not much over one hour. We head for the railway station for a shower, or would have if the showers had been working.

Ah well, there is nothing else for it!

It's amazing the funny looks people were giving us.
Does no one up here bathe in a sink?

Having come through some of the most spectacular scenery in the country, Fort William was not exactly scenic on this wet day.

Spending some time going around the shops, we head back to the station, get booked onto an earlier bus, (thanks missus), and we are heading home, (on the same bus as the Emperor and Blondie - good going eh!).

Pointing out some of the places we had passed on our walk of the West Highland way gave us a feeling of satisfaction on completing our venture.

Even with the constant rain and mud, we were totally agreed on two things .... it had been very worthwhile .... and we'll be back.

AND WE HAVE BEEN!... ANOTHER FOUR TIMES ... WATCH THIS SPACE..............