PREFACE

Fine views over Loch Lomond (photo: Jonathan Williams)

When Walt Unsworth (the then owner of Cicerone Press) rang me to ask whether I could shelve the eternally ongoing encyclopaedia of the countryside I was working on for him and go off to do a guidebook to the West Highland Way, I confess I delayed my response by a good two nanoseconds, not wanting to appear too eager. But, I thought, if I don’t do it, Walt will only get someone else to sort it out, so why not? It isn’t every day you get a publisher throwing work your way – usually you have to grovel a bit first!

The truth is, I had driven up and down the Loch Lomond, Rannoch and Glen Coe roads to Fort William for what seemed like an eternity, listening to the strains of Mike Oldfield and Rick Wakeman, and frequently glancing enviously across at serious-faced West Highland Wayfarers trudging through the rain in Glen Coe, or cowering beneath heavy packs north of Tyndrum, and I felt that I wanted to share the same evidently transcendental experience. So when the chance came to do it and earn money at the same time, I leapt at it – after that two nanoseconds’ delay, of course.

With untypical aplomb I rummaged about in search of my backpacking sack, the Trangias and numerous non-essential accessories I always take when backpacking, and then set about the tea bag and biscuit logistics, planning to complete the trek at the end of October 1995, scoot back to base and type it up speedily for publication in the spring of 1996. Sadly, I overlooked the fact that during the time I was there the whole country reverts from daft time to GMT, which left me with an inordinately long walk from Bridge of Orchy to Kinlochleven to do in one day, with the last hours in darkness. Not a problem in normal circumstances, but I was supposed to be working, and I couldn’t write about what I couldn’t see. So, at the Little Chef in Tyndrum, while consulting a Cajun chicken and chips, Plan B was devised – namely, go home and finish the walk in the spring. As a result, the poor souls at Crianlarich youth hostel who thought they had seen the last of me had to put up with me again, but they were quite brave about it.

More to the point, I got to see the Way in two seasons, and felt I had gained something in doing so. In October, the temperatures had been ideal for backpacking, and the light even better for photography. By May, most of the snow had cleared from the mountains, the rivers and burns were manageable, and the light just as splendid.

Inevitably the time came when it was prudent to look at revising this guide, so the route was walked in its entirety in May 2002: it rained every day!

Remarkably, very little had changed – certainly nothing of the route was different. A larger number of B&Bs along the way were supporting Wayfarers, and the pack-carrying service, which only the stoical will ignore, had come into its own. Not all long-distance walks lend themselves to a pack-carrying service, but this is one that does: it’s now called ‘Baggage transfer’.

What really stood out was the tremendous sense of camaraderie that developed among walkers travelling on the same day. Over a period of a week, while you’re not travelling in one another’s pockets you do keep meeting the same people and share experiences. That’s good; that’s as it should be. Get out of sync, and suddenly you don’t know anyone.

Around 17,000 people complete the West Highland Way each year. That’s not bad by any standards. But many set off and don’t finish; some don’t even complete the first day. The impression I gained is that too many of those who think they can do the Way are ill-prepared, have little experience of day-long walking, day after day, and have equipment that is anything but tried and tested.

Each day’s walking should be within your own capability. Use taxis to shunt you about if necessary, but do not attempt to do more than you can comfortably manage. And be prepared to modify your plans.

The revisions for the 2011 edition took place in two parts, not least because on the first visit, in July, the rain was a horizontal waterfall, and not much fun. When I returned in October, things were a little easier weather-wise.

A short description of the route from north to south has been added. The walk is divided into stages (1–7), but these are purely for ease of reference, and are not intended as daily itineraries – however they do correspond with a sensible if slightly demanding 7-day itinerary.

As I prepare a new edition (the 4th, 2016), very little has changed along the route: a few stiles have become gates, a new road bypass around Crianlarich has marginally affected the spur from the Way down into the town, and minor tweaks have appeared to improve the walking. But the beauty of the West Highland Way has diminished not one jot.

Burn of Mar rushes down to Loch Lomond (Stage 2) (photo: Jonathan Williams)