Glen Roy and the Corrieyairaik Pass

Thursday 28th and Friday 29th May 2026

On the day before this walk my self-made trail across the West Highlands of Scotland had taken me to Roy Bridge where I now headed into a valley that I had heard a lot about but never walked through myself. Glen Roy has a fascinating natural phenomenon in it known as parallel roads where terraces on the side of the valley have been caused by a succession of lakes after the last ice age. It is a national nature reserve so I was hopeful for an impressive sight and therefore I decided I would take my trail through the valley. On the previous two days I had taken advantage of good weather to climb over two mountain ranges, over the Mamores and the twin mountains of Aonach Beag and Aonach Mòr, but, compared with those days this was going to be a much easier day with less climbing as I kept to the bottom of the valley, which I appreciated as those days had been very tiring. Although there was still not a cloud in the sky, the winds had picked up, which indicated that the weather was about to change, and rain was forecast for the next day, so I was keen to walk as far as possible on this day to take advantage of the lingering sunshine and leave as little of the trail as possible in the rain on the last day of my trail. Initially I was just walking along a quiet road with the views blocked by trees and even when I had a view all I could see was more trees covering the valley. 

When I eventually emerged from the trees my view down the valley was initially dominated by the eastern crags of Aonach Mòr, with Aonach Beag behind, but later it was their neighbours, the Grey Corries that dominated the views behind me. Later, the parallel roads of Glen Roy began to appear, like green lines through the heather around the side of the valley, but they were so faint from where I was standing it was difficult for me to see anything interesting, though it is still amazing that something like that could be a natural phenomenon. Slowly, I made my way along the single track, unenclosed road through the valley gradually getting fed up with walking along a road, and although the scenery was fantastic I felt disconnected from it at the bottom of the valley. There is something very monotonous about walking along a road, every step the same, whereas on a trail there is constant variety, moving up and down, left and right, but on a road it is extremely tedious. I took loads of pictures of the valley but none of the pictures look particularly special. They seem to be just of a valley. Eventually the landscape at the bottom of Glen Roy became wilder, with less farmland and therefore more appealing, distracting me from the tedious road walking. 

Finally, I passed the end of the road, slowly leaving civilisation behind, although the track I was still walking on was a clear indication of its lingering remains. It was now getting rather hot, which on my previous couple of days I had countered by being at the top of a mountain where it is a lot cooler, but by staying at the bottom of a valley, sheltered from the wind, the heat was immense. Even though I appreciate the views, part of me preferred the cooler temperatures I had in the first week of my holiday. As I approached the top of the pass, I came near a bothy while my track left me by fording the river, so I had to find my way pathless until I reached a faint path that starts from the bothy, and took me over the pass to the source of the River Spey in Loch Spey. Although this is a very bleak, isolated area, there are mountains to the south that are well known, rising to Creag Meagaidh, which I climbed in 2008. I would have loved to have climbed it again as the weather had been poor on that occasion and I had considered including it on this trail, but it is not easy to get to from Glen Roy. The path widened after passing Loch Spey and became easier to walk upon, but then after crossing Shesgnan Burn I lost all trace of the path with a faint etching in the grass being all I could find, so I turned north and made my own way to a building marked on maps as Shesgnan over tussocky grass and across narrow water channels until I reached a clear track which led me between a conifer plantation and the River Spey to Melgarve.

After passing these buildings I turned left along a track that led me towards the infamous Corrieyairack Pass, which ranks alongside other legendary passes in Scotland such as the Lairig Ghru and the Devil’s Staircase. It has its origins in the military roads constructed in the eighteenth century to keep the lawless Highlanders under control and I had never walked across it before so I was keen to include it in my trail across the West Highlands and to finish in Fort Augustus on the other side. When I reached Corrie Yairack itself I put up my tent beside the stream in a delightful spot and enjoyed a lovely, sunny evening there, but the following morning the promised bad weather brought low clouds and drizzly rain. I hastily set off along the track that soon zigzags up the steep side of the corrie and over the pass alongside electricity pylons that also make use of this pass while I fought against the wind and rain. Occasional gaps in the rain were brief and welcome, especially when accompanied by the marvellous appearance of a rainbow, but eventually the weather did begin to improve. The descent took several hours and then just when the gradient steepened I realised that I had missed a turning so I had to climb back up to find the faint, missing path. With hindsight, I could have stayed on the track I was on because that was formally the military road from the Corrieyairack Pass. However, I was following a route determined for me by the O.S. Maps app, which had dictated that the military road doesn’t take the most direct route so I had to branch off towards Glen Tarff on a rough path that brought me to banks of bluebells that were poignant for me to see, because I knew I would not see any more this year.

Soon after passing the bluebells I was confronted by a locked gate and a private property notice, so I had to take a narrow path beside the fence that led me around Culachy House, and eventually brought me to a road not far from Fort Augustus. When I started planning this holiday I had tried to devise a walk across the West Highlands that compares with the Cambrian Way, which crosses Wales. It was an impossible task, if only because the Highlands of Scotland is completely different to Wales, with fewer settlements, less footpaths and more mountains. I came up with a trail that starts on Loch Fyne and ends at the southern tip of Loch Ness incorporating the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way and parts of the West Highland Way before crossing some of the mountains around Glen Nevis, and then along Glen Roy and over the Corrieyairack Pass. Despite the poor weather in the first week, it was quite successful, but does it compare with the Cambrian Way? No, partly because it is shorter, but ultimately I think it had failed before I even started because there was no anticipation. Unlike on the Cambrian Way, I wasn’t excited about the challenge ahead of me or the prospect of spending two weeks walking in the Highlands of Scotland, and that is a shame.

Aonach Beag and Mòr

Wednesday 27th May 2026

For this holiday I had devised a trail across the West Highlands of Scotland, which in the second week I had started from Glen Coe and I could have followed the valleys all the way, but after suffering with low cloud and rain in the first week of my holiday I was fortunate to now have good weather so I wanted to take advantage of it. Therefore, after camping beside the ruins of Steall in Glen Nevis, I looked up at the mountain that towered over me to the north and declared that I was going to climb it. I had previously headed up these slopes in 2016, but since I had not started until the afternoon, once the weather had cleared, I had only got as far as the Munro Top, Sgùrr a’ Bhuic, so now I wanted to go all the way. I followed the narrow path heading upstream beside the Allt Coire nan Laogh intending on following the burn all the way up, however, I veered off at a junction and ended up crossing the southern slopes on a sheep trod without making any progress uphill. Eventually I turned up the mountain and toiled up the steep slopes that were covered in heather and bilberry, sprinkled with pale violet flowers. This was very tiring, though a cold wind prevented me from getting too hot and eventually, after a lot of effort, I reached the top of the ridge that stretches west from the top of Sgùrr a’ Bhuic. Rather than turning right onto the ridge, I crossed over and followed the contour around to pick up the young burn that heads into the corrie. I had decided that some of my problems the day before had been because I was dehydrated, so at this point I made a point of replenishing my water bottles to ensure I didn’t run out of water and that my rucksack was particularly heavy.

When I reached the top of the corrie the view east across the awesome ridge of the Grey Corries was revealed to me, which repeatedly drew my eye as I slowly headed north up the ridge, following the edge of a precipitous cliff that had me feeling a little nervous as I continued to climb. When I reached the top of Stob Coire Bhealaich the steep, eastern crags of Aonach Beag and Aonach Mòr, still decorated with snow, could now be seen as I made my way along the narrow summit ridge. After chatting with a guy at the top for a while, I continued along the ridge and then turned up the slopes to reach the top of Aonach Beag, which was covered with snow and with no obvious summit marked with a cairn I was wary about getting too close to the cornices on the sheer cliff face. I could see some partially melted footsteps in the snow so I followed these to somewhere near where the summit might be and then hastily retreated towards safety, following the indentations out again. I had previously visited the top of Aonach Beag twenty years ago, out and back from Aonach Mòr, so I had been keen to climb it this time from the valley so I could more properly say I have climbed the mountain. Once off the snow I followed the clear path that zigzags down the steep, rock-filled slope to the col with Aonach Mòr, relishing every step that reminded of many mountain walks from my past and sadly not recently. These days I am reluctant to go up a mountain unless the weather is perfect, like on this day, because I know how much better it is when the weather is good. The comparison is enormous. Why would you want to go to the top of a mountain when you can’t get views like this?

After pausing for my lunch I headed up the broad slopes that led me all the way up to the summit of Aonach Mòr where I had stunning views all around, including west towards Càrn Mòr Dearg and Ben Nevis. Continuing along the broad ridge I veered towards the eastern edge following the route determined for me by the O.S. Maps app, but in 2006 I had kept to the western edge overlooking the deep valley of Allt Daim, which avoided the detritus of the ski slopes, but, of course, since there was no snow, no skiers. A very steep and long descent eventually brought me to the station at the top of the ski centre’s gondola ride, which I could have taken down, but instead I walked on a mountain bike track. When I realised this was a cycle track I came off it, until I realised that the track was in a poor state and no one was cycling down it, so I resumed my descent on the badly eroded track which eventually brought me into a wood where the hazards were even more evident. When I reached a forestry track I turned north east to get away from the ski centre and the mountain biking, and after that long, steep descent it was a relief to finally have easier walking. As I had descended I was struck by how hot it was becoming, since it is always much cooler at the top of a mountain, but it was also now much hotter than I had experienced at any point in my holiday as the heatwave that had afflicted England over the Bank Holiday weekend eventually reached the Highlands of Scotland. 

The forestry tracks took me past a quarry, whose access roads were tricky to cross, and still I kept heading north until finally my path veered right and I came alongside a railway. I had now joined the route of the East Highland Way, a little known trail that goes from Fort William to Speyside, largely following forestry tracks, such as this, but eventually the track veered south and a path continued my eastward progress until I reached a road where I turned left onto the busy A82. With no pavements I walked along the grass verge for a mile into Spean Bridge where I hoped to find something for dinner, but everywhere was closed, so I set off again along the main road taking the A86 which heads towards the Cairngorms. I didn’t go quite that far, and after at least an hour’s walking beside the road I reached Roy Bridge where I found something to eat and the campsite where I spent the night. This was a tiring day with sweltering heat once I came off the mountains, so despite trying to drink as much as possible I still felt dehydrated at the end of it. It was great to be walking at the top of mountains, especially as I don’t get to do that very often these days, and to be on mountains that I had previously visited twenty years ago, but the long walk out didn’t help.

The Mamores

Tuesday 26th May 2026

At the end of the previous day, before this walk, I had climbed up from Kinlochleven along a great path that passes through stunning wooded scenery to reach the Blackwater Reservoir where I put up my tent, even though I had actually intended on staying at the Loch Chiarain bothy, but I was too tired to keep going that far. It was still an enchanting spot with views across the reservoir, over the pass of the Devil’s Staircase and towards the mountain of Buachaille Etive Mòr. The following morning the views were even better because now there wasn’t a cloud in the sky for the first time on my holiday. When I set off I continued to head towards the bothy, before turning left at the burn, Allt Coire na Cruaidhe to follow a slender path that climbs beside the stream. This was very tiring on a path that, shall we say, was in its natural state, that is, rough and boggy. Eventually I came to a junction with the path that comes up from Loch Chiarain where I turned left to continue climbing over Meall na Cruaidhe to views over the epic range of mountains known as the Mamores while the mountains of Glen Coe continued to dominate the view whenever I looked back. My patience on this holiday after a week and a half of poor weather was finally being repaid and now I had excellent weather while heading towards one of the best mountain ranges in Scotland. The tiring path eventually led me to the mouth of Loch Eilde Mòr where a gravel track provided me much easier walking while heading back towards Kinlochleven.

Once over the pass I had mesmerising views along the length of Loch Leven and if I stayed on this track it would have taken me into Lairig Mòr to join the West Highland Way, or alternatively, I could have gone past Loch Chiarain to head into Lairig Leacach to continue north, and these were my foul weather alternatives. However, I wanted to take full advantage of this good weather and I had left myself plenty of time to do so. Even though it would take a lot of effort, I wanted to climb onto the glorious Mamores ridge, and the sight of these high mountains towering over me made me question my intentions. When I turned into Coire na Bà I quaked at the enormity of the mountain Am Bodach and the scale of the effort before me as I slowly made my way up the path, eventually turning east to head across the long slopes of Na Gruagaichean before turning north again to pass below the crags of the north western top and eventually reach a broad, grassy saddle. I have descended by this path through Coire na Bà twice before, most recently in 2017, and I think I appreciated it better on those occasions because it is just too long and tiring for an ascent, so I was relieved when I finally reached the great Mamores ridge. Now, I slowly climbed the ridge towards Stob Coire a’ Chàirn with stunning views all around me, including north towards Glen Nevis and the fabulous mountains beyond, while Am Bodach continued to dominate the view. I fell in love with the Mamores range on my first visit in 2005, so I was overjoyed to be back and to be enjoying fabulous weather amongst the amazing scenery.

The broad ridge eventually led me up to the small, airy summit of Stob Coire a’ Chàirn, which lies on the route of the classic Ring of Steall mountain walk and in 2005 I did part of that walk, coming up over An Gearanach to reach this Munro. But now I turned my back on the view north to look upon Am Bodach, which I decided I didn’t fancy attempting to climb, especially with a heavy rucksack on my back. After making my way along the ridge to the col I then started to head across the screes bypassing the summit. The Ordnance Survey shows two paths crossing the slopes below the steep crags of Am Bodach, which I intended on taking, but I couldn’t find any trace and eventually I turned uphill, climbing a sheer grass rake that led me back onto the clear path which weaved around the crags leading me very steeply up the mountain. With my head down, taking one step at a time, repeatedly crossing the rocks, back and forth, eventually I reached the popular summit of Am Bodach where the views were sensational and worth the exceptional effort required to get there. I could see Loch Leven and the Blackwater Reservoir to the south, but I was more interested in the views across the Mamores from this central location. From the westernmost Munro of the range, Mullach nan Coirean, all the way to Binnein Mòr at the eastern end, every mountain, with the Grey Corries beyond, looked fabulous in the sunshine. 

I spent ages wandering around the summit, taking pictures and gazing at the awesome view, until eventually I headed west down the rocky path that led me down to the saddle and up to the summit of Sgùrr an Iubhair where I took many pictures, mesmerised by the view east, back towards Stob Coire a’ Chàirn with Binnein Mòr behind, displaying the Mamores in its glory. Sadly my photographs lack depth due to the bright sunshine, which is a shame as the view from my perspective was sensational. Eventually I began to descend veering south to avoid the cliffs of Coire nam Miseach until I reached the col where a path led me north descending into Coire a’ Mhusgain. This was an excellent path which I enjoyed coming down until eventually I began to think about dinner since it was now six o’clock. I didn’t want to camp at this point, but I did make my dinner and after eating I continued along the path through the increasingly wooded valley until eventually I reached the road in Glen Nevis. There I turned up the valley along a fabulous path through gloriously wild scenery with bluebells providing a lovely foreground display to the Nevis gorge in the distance. 

This was an exhausting climb because of the warm, sunny evening and it continued as I made my way along the road and through the fabulous Nevis gorge footpath, which has not lost any of its charm despite being very popular. The Steall waterfall at the top was lit by the setting sun, but with a large party preparing to camp there I kept going until I reached the ruins of Steall and camped there. This was a long, tiring day passing through amazing scenery with fabulous weather that you can often only dream about in the Highlands of Scotland, so I felt fortunate. I keep telling myself that I now prefer long distance trails instead of mountains, but when you are at the top of a mountain in good weather the old feelings about mountains come back. But going up a mountain is a lot easier when you are not carrying the heavy camping equipment required for a long distance trail and I could tell my body was more than twenty years older than when I was first in the Mamores with my knees especially causing me problems on this walk.

The Devil’s Staircase and the Ciaran Path

Monday 25th May 2026

While planning for this holiday I tried to create a long distance trail across the West Highlands of Scotland, which begs the question: what not just do the West Highland Way? This is a good point, but I have done that before, so I didn’t want to do it again and I wanted something more mountainous, that climbs onto the tops of the hills rather than staying in the valleys. I had started my trail on the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way, but after reaching Loch Lomond I had difficulty deciding how to continue heading north without resorting to the West Highland Way, which is what I eventually did because bad weather left me with no other choice. Therefore, my west highland trail had so far brought me to Bridge of Orchy and technically I should have returned there to continue heading north, either towards Ben Alder or along the West Highland Way. Instead I decided to spend a couple of nights in Glencoe and now I was going to resume my trek from there and for the next five days I had a route of my own devising that would take me through the west highlands until I reached Loch Ness, which I had decided would be my end point. Loch Leven and Aonach Eagach were a clear barrier in my efforts to head north, so I wasn’t done with the West Highland Way yet and so I needed to head east through Glen Coe until I was back on the West Highland Way following the trail over the Devil’s Staircase. 

After two interesting nights in Glencoe I set off along the minor road that the youth hostel is on and after crossing the main road I headed along the footpath that runs alongside through the upper part of Glen Coe below the awesome Three Sisters of Glen Coe. Dramatic mountains towered either side of me with their heads still clinging to clouds though there were signs that this thick cloud that had stayed with me for almost a week was soon to end. I headed slowly up the valley continuing beyond the turning for the hidden valley which I had taken the day before and past the cars on the road, which were tailed back a long way, now climbing above the road on an excellent track that must be the old road from several hundred years ago, passing the entrance to Lairig Eilde and the northern buttress of Buachaille Etive Beag. I had now emerged from Glen Coe into the sunshine which was breaking through the clouds and I felt ecstatic at being in this fabulous mountain scenery with the sun shining. Unfortunately the excellent path eventually came to an end at a car park and beyond that the path was sketchy at best and often very wet until I finally reached the course of the West Highland Way at the start of the Devil’s Staircase.

This is easily the steepest part of the whole trail, but from my perspective the path is relatively easy as it zigzags clearly up the hillside until finally depositing me at the top of the pass between Stob Mhic Mhartuin and Beinn Bheag. I decided this would be a good place for me to stop and have my lunch, despite the large of numbers of people also there and passing through, before setting off myself down the clear path that was now bathed in sunshine, though thick cloud still clung to all the mountains. I really enjoyed walking along this path with good views into valley of the River Leven, even if not of the mountains, while bathed in sunlight. This was a prolonged descent, first crossing the small stream Allt a’ Choire Odhair-bhig and then over the tip of the ridge Sròn a’ Choire Odhair-bhig before a steeper descent brought me to the crossing of another stream, Allt a’ Choire Odhair-mhòir. Eventually my enjoyment was ruined by reaching a wide track that was really just the road to the vast Blackwater Reservoir. This eventually led me into Kinlochleven, strictly following the West Highland Way all the way, where I bought some food, topped up my water bottles and then set off to find somewhere to wild camp. Soon after crossing the River Leven, on my way into Kinlochleven, I had seen a sign for the Ciaran Path, which intrigued me so I decided to see where it took me and I was blown away by what I found.

It took me through gorgeous woodland with steep slopes above the River Leven through scenery that was so wild and unspoilt I could hardly believe I was in crowded Britain. It breaks my heart that we don’t get such unspoilt terrain more often in Britain, but I was frustrated at not getting good views through the trees, though a couple of times I had breaks in the vegetation where I could get a more open view of the amazing landscape. It was very hot in the sheltered valley, while dragging my heavy rucksack slowly uphill, so the water that had only just obtained in Kinlochleven didn’t last very long. Eventually I emerged from the trees to reach the enormous Blackwater Reservoir, and while I knew that there is a bothy at Loch Chiarain, it was still a long way away, and the walk along the Ciaran Path had completely worn me out, so I had no energy left to keep going. As soon as I found a source of water I stopped and put up my tent. The heatwave that England had been enduring for many days was now finally coming to Scotland, so even though the clouds had still not lifted from the mountains I was hopeful that in the following days I would finally be able to enjoy some fabulous mountain walking. Meanwhile, that evening I lay in my tent gazing across Blackwater Reservoir at the mountains that I had crossed on the Devil’s Staircase earlier in the day and looked forward to the mountains that I would be climbing in the next couple of days.

Glen Coe

Sunday 24th May 2026

During a day spent resting from walking, I had moved from the Crianlarich Youth Hostel to the Glen Coe Youth Hostel where I had previously been twenty years ago but I had not been back since, so while planning this holiday I decided that I would spend a few days there to reacquaint myself with this fabulous place. In 2006 I had climbed Bidean Nam Bian, the highest point in the area, in quite poor weather with zero visibility, so I wanted to go back and, this time, be able to appreciate the view, however, if the weather was just as bad then I wasn’t sure it would be worth it. While England endured its first heatwave of the year, Scotland was wet, humid and drizzly, with thick clouds covering the sky, so I was not optimistic of following my footsteps of twenty years ago. Nevertheless, I set off along the quiet country lane from the youth hostel, past the Red Squirrel Campsite and the Clachaig Inn to reach the River Coe. After crossing the main road I walked along the path than runs alongside, passing Loch Achtriochtan, into the treeless upper part of Glen Coe below the impressive buttresses of the Three Sisters of Glencoe, which looked no less imposing with their heads in the clouds. Between the second and third sister the path branched down to cross the River Coe in an impressive gorge and then climbed steeply up into Coire Gabhail.

This is a difficult, rough path with some scrambling required in places, but despite this it is very popular. Metal steps provide access into the gorge, but the climb back up is a steep, but easy scramble that takes you to a junction. The route marked on Ordnance Survey maps turns right to climb above the valley while the left turning, clearer path keeps nearer to the burn. I thought I’d try the right turn, which took me onto a manufactured path, climbing towards the middle ridge of the three sisters and provided me with a great route and views, even though most people were taking the lower path. Eventually it began to descend steeply back down to the burn where stepping stones took the reunited paths onto a clear, manufactured route up the slopes of the other side of the valley until a stupendous view was revealed of a hidden valley. After the steep ascent through the tree-filled valley up to this point it is surprising to see a flat bottomed valley ahead hidden away amongst the hills. The last time I was in this so-called lost valley was 2016 when the weather was worse than on this day, it was raining, and even that was better than in 2006 when the cloud was so low I hadn’t seen anything. But, even though the weather was better than on those occasions, I was still not going to have a view from Bidean Nam Bian, so I was reluctant to climb out of the hidden valley.

After crossing the plain I started to ascend, but only so far until I had a good view back across Coire Gabhail to the mountains on the opposite side of Glen Coe. There were other people climbing up to the col and I could have followed them, but I didn’t want to. I have lost interest in bagging mountains and unless the weather is good I can’t see the point of being at the top of a mountain. I’ve seen too many trig points and cairns in misty conditions to want to see another one. Eventually I made my way back down the valley and I thought I’d explore the start of the gorge rather than taking to the path, but I soon realised that there no way down that way, so I returned to the plain and followed the clear path up, across the southern slopes and then down, over the stepping stones and, this time, I took the more popular, lower path, which was clearly much older and tricky in places where the rocks were wet. Eventually I crossed the River Coe again and into Glen Coe following the path beside the main road while wondering what to do next since it was early afternoon. On the other side of Loch Achtriochtan I followed the river on a new all-abilities footpath past some waterfalls to reach the car park for Signal Rock, which I had previously visited on that wet day in 2016. I am not sure whether I had actually reached the rock on that occasion, but I did now, but there is no view due to the tall, encircling conifers, so I retreated back to the River Coe.

The Glencoe Greenway continued on a wide path that was too easy for me, but enabled me to disengage my brain as I followed the trail, which eventually led me to the visitor centre where a path continues as part of the Glencoe Orbital path, beside the main road and into the village of Glencoe. Beyond the village, the trail continued across the River Coe and took me onto a narrow, off-road path through dark conifers until I returned to the youth hostel. This was a good, relaxing walk to end the day while the weather, which had worsened at lunchtime, now finally improved with the sun beginning to break through the clouds. Despite my walking this day repeating much of what I had done in 2016 it was more enjoyable because ten years ago I had been really frustrated with the weather, but I have come to realise now that I don’t need to go up a mountain to have a good walk. 

West Highland Way: Inversnaid to Crianlarich

Friday 22nd May 2026

During the first week of my holiday in Scotland I walked along the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way, finishing at the railway station of Arrochar and Tarbet, not far from the shore of Loch Lomond. However, rather than continuing my trek north from there the following day I had caught a train to Bridge of Orchy and headed south along the West Highland Way to Crianlarich, effectively skipping a stage on my stitched sequence of trails and reversed the direction. In fact, I had intended to ignore any idea of a coherent trek north for a couple of days and instead visit some of the mountains around Crianlarich, but the weather was so poor I had reverted to the trail and it was especially poor the previous day so skipping the stage made sense. With better weather this day I had the opportunity to do the missing stage, so to start I caught a train from Crianlarich back to Arrochar and Tarbet and then a ferry across Loch Lomond to Inversnaid joining the West Highland Way heading north along the eastern bank of Loch Lomond. I originally did the West Highland Way in 2004 and I have not done this section to Beinglas since, although, I was at Inversnaid in 2022 to the start of the Great Trossachs Path, but now I was heading onto the roughest section of the West Highland Way.

After crossing Loch Lomond I initially turned south to look at the impressive waterfall on the Arklet Water, beside the Inversnaid Hotel and stopped at the point where the Great Trossachs Path begins, at the junction with the West Highland Way, where I turned around and crossed the bridge over the falls again passing in front of the hotel. I wasn’t in a hurry as I set off along the path beside Loch Lomond, intent to enjoy every step through the trees and along the rocky, muddy path. There were some slow, tricky places where hand was on rock, particularly around Sroin Uaidh where the map indicates that Rob Roy’s Cave is located, but despite a brief look for it I couldn’t find it, so, perhaps I was looking in the wrong place. Apart from the fabulously craggy, rock-filled path, the highlight of this walk was the bluebells, which at this time of the year were gloriously in flower, decorating the hillside and producing a constant display. Later the trees thinned to reveal a meadow covered in bluebells, which I thought was an amazing sight, despite having seen many bluebells in my time, even just this year, but these bluebells just blew my mind and they weren’t even being shown off in the best conditions as it was grey and misty. But these bluebells were special.

I really enjoyed walking along the rocky path beside Loch Lomond and my body seemed to respond to the challenge, feeling fit and strong enough to tackle any terrain as I sailed along the path, enjoying every moment. The difficult terrain finally ended when the path moved away from the loch and began to climb past Creag Mhadaidh, but after passing Doune Byre another vast bank of bluebells appeared, this time with views across Loch Lomond to the distinctive peak of Stob nan Coinnich Bhacain. I then briefly came back down to the shore of Loch Lomond for a final time where I lingered, taking a few pictures and taking in my surroundings before setting off along the increasingly muddy path. Despite the huge amounts of rain recently, I was astonished by how bad the path was considering how popular the trail is, or perhaps it was this muddy because of how popular it is. You would have thought a trail as popular as this would have a good all-weather surface throughout its length, but clearly not at this point. Earlier, on the craggiest section, the ground had still been very wet, which had forced me to take extra care, but the abundant rock ensured that it wasn’t too muddy, unlike at the northern end of Loch Lomond. 

Finally I left the loch behind, climbing over Cnap Mòr with stunning views behind me on an excellent path that reminded me of how great the West Highland Way is and deserving of its popularity. Some sections have dull, wide tracks, but this bit was fabulous, especially as the weather was slowly improving. The great walking eventually brought me to the Beinglas Campsite where it now became much easier, initially on a wide track before branching onto a stony path that led me into the narrowing Glen Falloch where waterfalls created a lot of noise, but it was difficult for me to get a good view because of the trees. Eventually I crossed the River Falloch and followed a well-made path beside the river, through woodland, under a very low railway bridge, under the main road and up a recently improved path to the old military road that took me across the northern slopes of Glen Falloch all the way back to Crianlarich with stupendous views across the valley to Cruach Ardrain, which I had managed to climb again in 2022 when I was last in Crianlarich. 

Arguably, I should have been walking up a mountain this day as the weather was no worse than it had been four years ago, but, since I have already been to the top of all the mountains around Crianlarich, I had wanted good weather to make it worthwhile. Earlier in the day there had been a lot of cloud covering the mountains and it was only by late afternoon that the cloud eventually began to clear those peaks. So, would I have had more fun walking up a mountain in this weather than I had this day walking along the West Highland Way? I doubt it. I enjoy a good, clear footpath and the paths up mountains are often quite sketchy, but with the exception of the quagmire at the northern end of Loch Lomond, the paths on the West Highland Way were excellent. I love having a good view from the top of a mountain, so if there is no view then what is the point? I just enjoy a good walk and I am increasingly finding that a long distance trail provides me with everything I enjoy doing.

West Highland Way: Bridge of Orchy to Crianlarich

Thursday 21st May 2026

Having walked along the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way over the previous three days, it would make sense for me to continue heading north by crossing Loch Lomond and heading up the West Highland Way, but the weather was so poor this day I didn’t feel like doing that, and so I felt the following section heading north from Crianlarich was the only possible alternative. During my planning for this holiday any part of the West Highland Way had lacked appeal for me and I had eventually decided to spend a couple of days in Crianlarich climbing the mountains in the area, ignoring my original intention for this holiday, but the bad weather forced me back into walking along the West Highland Way, despite its familiarity, as it was my only option. I was most recently in Crianlarich in 2022 when I had also planned to climb some of the mountains in the area, but bad weather on that occasion forced me again into walking along the West Highland Way going all the way to Fort William, so for a bit of a change on this occasion I decided I would catch a train to Bridge of Orchy and walk back to Crianlarich. It was also better for me to do it this way so I was not rushing to catch a schedule, though the timetable was not helpful as the train from Bridge of Orchy leaves at one pm or seven pm with nothing in between. There are only a few trains on the West Highland Line and the train in the morning was not until 10.21, so it was already mid-morning when I eventually arrived in Bridge of Orchy and headed south along the West Highland Way.

The vast majority of people walking the West Highland Way head north to keep the prevailing wind to their backs and, since Bridge of Orchy is on the fifth stage of the trail, those who had started the trail the previous weekend were now coming towards me. The West Highland Way is a very popular trail and it seemed like I passed hundreds of people just on this initial section below the steep slopes of Beinn Dòrain that leads all the way to Gleann Achadh-innis Chalein. The weather was not too bad at this point with hardly any rain, it was just misty and soon I began to get hot in my waterproofs, which showed a change in the weather. It had been quite cold at the start of my holiday, but now a heatwave was developing over England, which was bringing warm, moist air over Scotland, hence the bad weather. I attempted a few things to cool down, such as unzipping and then eventually removing my cagoule, while leaving on my poncho to keep me dry. It also helps enormously to take your hood down as a hood will prevent a lot of heat from escaping, and so I adopted a wide-brimmed hat to keep me dry. These measures succeeded in keeping me cool as I continued along the trail, over the Allt Kinglass river and beside the railway line, enjoyably disengaging my brain while quietly making my way along the wide path until I eventually entered Tyndrum. The path narrowed beyond, becoming difficult to find in places and then entered the Tyndrum Community Woodland as it began to rain more heavily. The path was now so narrow that whenever people were coming towards me I had to get completely off the path to let them pass, which happened often, so was not easy.

Eventually the heather moorland passed and the path widened, through woodland beside the River Cononish, passing underneath the railway line and main road. As I crossed Strath Fillian the rain now fell even more heavily, while passing the ruins of St Fillian’s Priory and back across the valley, over the river and across the main road and railway line again. As the terrain steepened, the path became rough passing a felled conifer plantation that afforded me with misty views across the valley, which in better weather would have included Ben More, a mountain that I had planned to walk up if the weather had been better, but now I couldn’t even see it. While the trail took me into more mature conifer woodland, I just wanted the rain to stop or for me to get back to Crianlarich, which never seemed to happen until eventually the rain eased and I reached the junction where the West Highland Way makes a sharp turn to the right while Crianlarich was straight ahead descending under the bypass to finally bring me back to the youth hostel. This was a disappointing day when I had hoped to be able to go up some of the mountains that I had last visited twenty years ago, but instead I walked along the West Highland Way, which I had last done just four years ago and while the walking in the morning was quite pleasant, the afternoon’s walking in the heavy rain was not at all enjoyable.

Loch Lomond & Cowal Way, day three

Wednesday 20th May 2026

It was still raining. The previous day I had spent the whole day walking in the rain along the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way from Glendaruel to a wild camp on the pass Bealach an Lochain and the following morning it was still raining, so after breaking camp I set off along the trail past the lake Curra Lochain between the fabulous crags that are either side of the pass on the side of the mountains Beinn Lochain and Beinn Bhuela. Despite the poor, misty weather conditions there were geese on the lake, honking at me as I passed while my path under foot was excellent and dry, but this wasn’t the case beyond the lake, where the path was very boggy, which continued on the descent into a conifer plantation. It is very difficult to keep a grip on a wet, muddy path that is descending steeply, though not so in ascent. I very carefully made my way down, almost slipping over at one point, so I was relieved when I finally reached the wide forestry track at the bottom that took me over the Lettermay Burn. While looking back now, I was able to see the waterfalls on the burn Sruth Bàn, which I must have walked past on my descent but been too preoccupied with staying upright to notice, while the two mountains either side of the pass looked even more impressive from further away, even in the misty conditions due to their abundance of visible rock. My descent continued down forestry tracks until I eventually reached the road around the head of Loch Goil where holiday homes dominated the coastline while the rain finally eased with the weather slowly improving.

Lochgoilhead seemed like a magical place to spend your holiday because it is quiet, out of the way, a difficult place to get to, so would hopefully not be too overrun with tourists, but maybe if I had been there in better weather I would have seen what it is really like. A narrow lane hugged the coast between the loch and a caravan park before reaching the River Goil where I had to follow this upstream for a distance before finding a bridge. At high tide, I would need to have kept to the road, but that was not necessary so after crossing the bridge I followed the coast into the centre of the village where unfortunately I didn’t stop, but turned left up a lane that steepened to reach an area of rhododendrons. After turning left, a wide, gently rising path took me pleasantly into a conifer plantation, leading me to a dramatic landscape at a crossing of the Allt Airigh na Creige with many waterfalls at its meeting with the Donich Water. I lingered there, taking a few pictures, before continuing to climb through the trees, which became increasingly steep as I toiled up an ascent reminiscent of many I have done in the past. The path zigzagged ingeniously beside a stream until eventually, after leaving the plantation behind, the path became less distinct and boggier with my route guided by white painted posts. During my frequent stops for a breath I now had views over the trees towards the hills the other side of Loch Goil and in the improving weather they looked spectacular, basking in the sunshine that had now come out.

The relentless climb eventually eased and I came to the top of the pass, which is the highest on the whole trail. North of the pass was the Brack, which I had previously climbed in 2022 from this point, so when I began to descend into Coilessan Glen I was retracing my steps of four years ago. Many of the trees I had passed on that occasion had now been felled leaving a desolate wasteland that caused me a few difficulties. Once the steep descent had ended I found my way blocked by young trees, which either crowded out my path or had fallen across it, so when I was once more back on forestry tracks my route down became a lot easier, eventually leading me to a road. I was now near Loch Long, heading north with the sun finally making an appearance, which prompted me to take off all my waterproofs. The contrast in this day was quite remarkable with rain at the start of the day, but now, with all my waterproofs folded up in my rucksack, I was enjoying the sunshine. After a while I came to a path that branched off the road and led me down to the shore of Loch Long heading towards the impressive Ardgarton Hotel, turning left before then to pass a fabulous bank of bluebells.

As great as the sight of the bluebells was, I couldn’t help feeling a bit blasé about them since I had been seeing many of them for over a month and at home they had gone to seed a long time ago. Even just on this holiday I had been seeing bluebells every day, so it was becoming nothing special, which is a shame because bluebells are always a wonderful sight. Eventually I reached the car park in Glen Croe where the trail took me across the busy A83 trunk road and along an excellent path that weaved across the hillside slowly gaining height past fabulous vegetation until I eventually reached a conifer plantation and joined a forestry track. This track led me to a radio mast where a wide, gravel path zigzagged back down to the A83 and the shore of Loch Long, where I rounded the head to reach the village of Arrochar. From this point the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way heads north through Glen Loin to reach Loch Lomond at Inveruglas where there used to be a ferry to take you across Loch Lomond, but since this no longer runs there is no point. Instead, I considered the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way complete at this point so, after having some fish & chips, I headed through the woods above the village, surrounded by bluebells, to get to the railway station of Arrochar & Tarbet. There was a lot of road walking on this trail, though it passes through some beautiful countryside or it would have been if I’d been able to see more of it, without the weather interfering. My main problem with the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way is that it is too short, but for me it was only a good start to much more walking to come.

Loch Lomond & Cowal Way, day two

Tuesday 19th May 2026

I had a lovely evening before this walk at the Glendaruel Caravan & Camping Park where it was dry and sunny, the birds were singing loudly and there were excellent facilities. However, it started to rain over night and the following morning it was just grey and miserable with persistent rain forecast, though when I set off it was hardly raining, not heavy enough to hear the drops on an umbrella or a waterproof coat, so I had a relatively enjoyable start to my second day on the Loch Lomond & Cowal Way, but it wasn’t long before it started to rain again. My walk started on the narrow roads through the valley of Glendaruel which was enlivened by many bluebells growing beside the road, as well as the white flowers of wild garlic and three-cornered garlic. 

Eventually I reached the main road where I turned south, heading back down the valley, but soon I branched off the road, passing an unwelcoming farm and onto a track that provided me with the first prolonged climb of the trail. This took me up the valley of Garvie Burn and into Strath nan Lùb, past some cattle and into the driving rain. Occasionally the rain eased to a light drizzle, which afforded me with the opportunity to put my hood down and reflect that the best part about walking in the rain is when it stops. The rain eased as the morning progressed and I slowly dragged myself and my heavy rucksack up the seemingly unending track, climbing into the mist until eventually I summited the pass, the second highest on the trail, and began to descend steeply. 

I had now entered the Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park, though this was completely missed by me as I descended into a conifer plantation. My guidebook indicated that I needed to turn sharp left after a series of bends whereas the green diamond markings on my Ordnance Survey map would have had me taking the second turning on the left. I thought I’d seek a third opinion so I consulted the walkhighlands website which agreed with my guidebook so when I reached the sharp left I took the signposted green lane which was carpeted with wood sorrel. This brought me to a fabulous gorge where the Allt Robuic burn cascades down a series of waterfalls whose stunning sight drew my eye away from the bluebells that decorated the sides of the valley. 

As the rain fell again an excellent footpath took me past the falls and along the northern bank, weaving around the contours, over wooden bridges and with protective fences above the steep gorge. Eventually a flight of steps brought me to a washed away bridge, which my Ordnance Survey map would have taken me over. Since I couldn’t turn right, I turned left and followed a wide track that led me into Glenbranter where I eventually found a wooden shelter to escape the rain and have my lunch. When I emerged the rain had stopped, or at least eased, but it was never far away and was soon back. A tedious walk followed along a quiet lane, and once the bluebells of Glenbranter had been left behind there was nothing for me to see. Eventually I reached the outskirts of Strachur, where I crossed the main road and headed up an access road. 

With no accommodation available for me in Strachur, despite wanting to stop due to the bad weather, I had to keep going and find somewhere to wild camp, so I slowly headed up the road alongside the River Cùr past more bluebells as the rain fell heavily again. After crossing the river a good path took me up to a forestry track which led me into the side valley of the Leavanin burn with conifers covering the slopes on my side, though many areas had been felled providing me with views up the valley through the rain. I kept thinking about where I could possibly camp, but with nowhere to camp on the tussocky ground of the conifer plantation, I had to just keep going. After a left turn my path narrowed, crossing many streams with water rushing down the hillside until eventually I reached a crossing of the main burn and a short climb that brought me to the edge of the forestry land where I finally stopped to pitch up my tent.

This is one of those days that make me wonder why I spend my holidays walking in wet Scotland, but if the weather had been better perhaps I would have had my answer. However, much of this day was spent walking on roads or wide forestry tracks that are never appealing, though at least I would have had views of the surrounding mountains which I was deprived of on this walk due to the weather.

Loch Lomond & Cowal Way, day one

Monday 18th May 2026

Last year I walked the Cambrian Way across Wales from Cardiff to Conwy and I found it to be thoroughly enjoyable, so soon after I finished the trail I was thinking, firstly about whether I could do the Cambrian Way again, and secondly, before doing that, whether I could find something similar in the Highlands of Scotland. Throughout the rest of last year I tried to devise a trail in Scotland that would have the same appeal as the Cambrian Way. This was not easy because the Highlands of Scotland is a very different landscape to Wales since it is much bigger and there are very few footpaths in comparison. However, very early in the planning process I came across the Loch Lomond & Cowal Way and I decided that this should form the foundation or backbone of my trail across the West Highlands. I had considered starting on either the Isle of Bute or on Arran, but eventually I decided that I would start my trail across the West Highlands at the start of the Cowal Way, so I had spent the weekend in the pretty village of Tarbert and then, at the start of this day, a ferry brought me across Loch Fyne to Portavadie and the start of the trail. The sun was shining when I set off from the port, even though the forecast for the rest of the week was not so fortunate, so I was happy to have sunshine at this time. 

The trail soon branched off the access road to climb a track through woodland sprinkled with bluebells and gorse before turning onto a narrow footpath that continued to climb until I reached a clearing where I had views back across Loch Fyne. The descent brought me to the ruins of a castle, around Asgog Loch and past the sheep at the head of the loch to reach a road, which took me past the remains of a gunpowder works. Soon I was climbing again on a green lane lined with gorse with striking views back to the low-lying hills behind me and once I was at the top of the low pass there were views ahead of me towards the channel which separates the Isle of Bute from the mainland, known as the Kyles of Bute. First I had to negotiate a golf course, which was quickly done and soon I was walking along a green lane, lined with gorgeous displays of bluebells looking fabulous in the sunshine. Before too long, I reached the shore of the Kyles of Bute where the views across to Bute compensated for now having to simply walk beside the road for a long time through the villages of Kames and Tighnabruaich. Even though the mountains of Arran later appeared to the south, I was more interested in the view north where the channel narrowed and the clouds seemed darker and more ominous.

Slowly, I made my way along the road, beside the loch until eventually the public road came to an end and I continued on a private estate road plunging into woodland littered with rhododendrons. A climb brought me to a waterfall and back done at the shore I passed Caladh Harbour and eventually reached the end of the road beside some cottages. At low tide I could have proceeded from there along the beach, but since the tide was high I had no choice but to make my way along a tortuous route through the overgrown rhododendrons between cliffs and the shores of Loch Riddon. This could have been an exciting traverse, but the ground was so wet and complex it could never be considered enjoyable, so I was relieved when after a very slow mile I eventually reached a house whose access road provided me with much easier walking. I had gotten very hot straining along that difficult path with hardly any respite, though one had afforded me with views through the rhododendrons back towards the Isle of Bute. When I was finally back on a road I was able to cool off while continuing to walk beside the loch and enjoy the views across the water.

An extended section of road walking now followed as I reached the A8003 road and walked beside that for a while until eventually, before the road crossed the River Ruel, I branched off to follow a track beside the river that brought me to a minor road. This took me over the historic two-arched Telford Bridge over the River Ruel and onto the A886 road, which I soon came off to take a lane that led me through the Clachan of Glendaruel. Here, there was a medieval church with some carved stones from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in a separate building, which I did have a look at, but I don’t think my life is any different for having seen them or for going inside the church. Back on the road I followed that through the valley of Glendaruel until eventually I reached a caravan park and campsite where I spent a lovely evening and the night. This was a long walk, possibly a bit too long for the first day on the trail, but it was rather easy with very little climbing, especially once I reached the shore of the Kyles of Bute. My rucksack felt very heavy and I was certainly carrying more food than I really needed. The highlight of the walk was not the rough section of footpath as this was too wet and slippery, and instead I think it was the sunny weather, which, though not spectacular, judging by the poor weather forecast was fabulous in comparison to what was to come.

Around Tarbert

Sunday 17th May 2026

Whenever I come to Scotland, it is common practice for me to spend the first day settling in, acclimatising and doing an easy walk before starting the main goal of my holiday a day or two later. For example, in 2022 I stayed in Stirling over the first weekend of my holiday before moving to the West Highlands and now, since I was going to be walking in an area I had not been in before, this would give me the opportunity to explore and get to know the area before setting off on my planned long distance trail. The place I found myself in was Tarbert on Loch Fyne, which I had arrived at on the previous evening after a three hour journey on the Citylink bus from Glasgow and the poor weather that had greeted me on arrival continued the following morning as I waited for the café to open for breakfast. I took the opportunity to walk around the harbour, but I didn’t go far since it was raining. However, by the time I came out of the café the clouds had begun to break revealing gorgeous blue skies over the pretty little village, so I grabbed my rucksack and set off up to the castle. At home, the bluebells were going to seed, but up here in Scotland they had decorated the side of the road throughout my journey on the bus and now bluebells could be seen on the hillside near Tarbert Castle. 

After wandering around the castle while admiring the view I set off along the course of the Kintyre Way, which usually starts in Tarbert, and I had considered taking. My planning for this holiday was extensive and long, taking many months looking into many options, including walking along the Kintyre Way, but this was eventually rejected, though, since I was in Tarbert I thought I’d have a taste of the trail and walk along the first few miles. A wonderful footpath took me through the community woodland and into moorland past a scattering of various trees before reaching a wide forestry track which soon led me into a conifer plantation, which, as far as I can determine, is largely how the Kintyre Way continues for most of the trail and why I didn’t want to do it. A way marked trail, called the Corranbuie Trail, marked with blue ringed posts, would have brought me back down to Tarbert if I had turned right, but I decided to stay on the Kintyre Way for a while longer so I turned left and followed the track into the conifer plantation steadily climbing the hill. The problem I have with walking on forestry tracks is that they are too wide and even to be enjoyable, and the tall conifers block the views, and it is the views from the top of a hill that really make a walk.  

 

On the occasions when I did have a view beyond the trees I could see across Loch Fyne and that it was clearly raining further north, which I was happily missing out on. Clouds would pass overhead but not drop their rain until further inland, so I was able to enjoy a pleasant stroll, though tedious, along the track. I just had to decide how far along the Kintyre Way I would be walking before turning back. It would have been great if I could have done the whole first stage of the trail before catching a bus back to Tarbert, but they don’t run on a Sunday, so I would need to retrace my steps. I had planned on going as far as a bridge over the Allt Càrn Chaluim burn taking a track that climbs back up to the highest point on the stage (and almost of the whole trail) before descending back into Tarbert. In the end, when I got to the highest point, out of the trees, amongst the moorland beside Cruach Doire Lèithe, I decided to turn back at this point and not waste the effort. One thing I liked about the Kintyre Way was that there were marker posts for every mile, showing how far you have travelled and the point where I turned back was just after the four mile post. It had been cold and overcast at the top but the sun soon came out again and this made for an enjoyable descent with more extensive views than earlier when rain had obscured the head of the loch.

At a picnic table I stopped for lunch, to enjoy the sunshine and the views across Loch Fyne, but while eating it started to rain heavily, prompting me to a hastily don my waterproofs, but by the time they were all on it had stopped raining. Slowly, I continued to descend along the Kintyre Way until I reached the point where the trail turns right off the track and there I followed the blue marked posts of the Corranbuie Trail, turning right at a second path, which descended interestingly through similar terrain to the earlier ascent and eventually brought me back to Tarbert. Since it was still early in the afternoon I took the opportunity to explore more of the area around the charming, little port using a walk listed on the walkhighlands website called White Shores, which took me to the northern side of the harbour. The weather was now fantastic and provided me with stunning views back towards the village before plunging into woodland along a footpath that led me to Port Bàn where it was the wild flowers inland that most caught my eye including bluebells and wild garlic. 

 

Exploring the many branching footpaths brought me past more of the lovely bluebells until eventually I returned to my outward path and back to Tarbert where I continued to explore, heading towards West Loch Tarbert and back to the castle, but the best of the day had passed. I enjoyed my aimless, relaxed wandering on this day with no demands on my attention while the sun shone all afternoon so that now I look back on the time I spent in Tarbert at the start of my holiday with much fondness.

Groudle Glen and Bradda Head

Friday 10th April 2026

On the last day of my holiday, with bad weather approaching, I thought I would adopt the plan that I had formulated for my first day on the Isle of Man, but not used, which explores the wooded glens to the north of the capital city, Douglas, so I set off along the Raad ny Foillan, the coastal footpath. After passing the southern terminus of the Electric Railway, I branched off the main road onto Seacliff Road around Onchan Head and before returning to the main road took to a path that branched down into a pretty, little harbour, thinking there would be a path out on the other side; there wasn’t. It was a great, lovely path, decorated with many wild flowers, but eventually I had to retrace my steps all the way back up and onto the main road. The coastal footpath continued beyond the harbour on a path that skirted the narrow gap between the sea cliffs and the back gardens of people’s houses, and was lined with flowers that had escaped those gardens including three-cornered garlic and Spanish bluebells. Back on the main road, I followed that past building work on my right and into Groudle Glen, which I had been in last year, but I had no hesitation in returning to a fabulous wooded valley that I once again found entrancing. Wood anemones decorated the banks of the stream of beautiful Groudle Glen, with bluebells just beginning to appear, as I slowly wandered along the path absorbing the tranquil surroundings while taking many pictures.

As the sun went in, I continued up the glen, which narrowed past a waterwheel and under a bridge with more wild flowers decorating the banks as I made my way along the excellent, well-made footpath eventually reaching a wider area where the river does a dramatic meander with woodland plants covering the floor, until finally I passed under White Bridge and into Molly Quirk’s Glen. Soon, I crossed the Groudle River and took to a path that climbed beside the road and is called the Bibaloe Walk. I had not taken this path before, but there was not much to see, just a few primroses, and soon I emerged onto the road. I had planned on retracing my steps into the valley, but now that I was there I decided to take a footpath that crosses several grassy fields and brought me to a minor road where I descended increasingly steeply into Molly Quirk’s Glen. When I had reached this end of the valley last year I had been confronted with a sign that the path through the glen was closed due to fallen trees, but now much work had been carried out and I was able to follow the path beside the small river through the glen, which was a lovely place, but possibly not up to the stupendously high standards of Groudle Glen, or some of the other valleys that I had seen on this holiday. Eventually I returned to White Bridge where I followed the road through Onchan and back onto the promenade in Douglas.

Despite the weather forecast, the sun was out again, which provided me with a pleasant walk around the bay until I reached the ferry terminal where I booked an earlier service for the next day, due to the coming bad weather over the weekend, and then made my way to the steam railway station. I was mindful of the fact that I was soon going to be leaving the Isle of Man and I hadn’t visited Port Erin, at the far end of the steam railway, so I caught the train and by the time I reached my destination the promised bad weather was finally becoming apparent, though it wasn’t raining yet. A tower sits on Bradda Head, to the north of Port Erin Bay, and when I was there last year I had been short of time so I hadn’t taken the opportunity to visit the tower. Now, I thought I would have time to do so, though I would have to rush so I could catch the train back to Douglas, so I hurried through the streets of Port Erin and through an archway marked Bradda Glen, across the hillside north of the bay past many wild flowers and onto the open hill to reach Milner’s Tower. Immediately, I set off up the spiral staircase to the top of the tower where I took some pictures under the overcast skies, before heading back down and along the road to reach the railway station in Port Erin.

This was a disjointed day, starting with a shortened version of the walk that I had initially planned for the previous Sunday followed by an excursion on the steam train interspersed by a hurried dash up Bradda Head. The weather for my holiday this year on the Isle of Man was not great, certainly not as good as it had been the previous year, and the wild flower mix seen this year was different, mainly because of being three weeks earlier. The Isle of Man is such a fabulous place for walking that arguably I need to go back again some time. I have loved walking through the wooded glens, which are filled with stunning displays of wild flowers and I’m sure there are more for me to see, and with more of the coastal path still to walk, I’m sure I will be drawn back to the Isle of Man eventually.

The Steam Heritage Trail

Thursday 9th April 2026

My knee started to hurt on the previous day’s walk. I don’t know what I had done to aggravate it because it started to hurt as soon as I started the walk and it just got worse as the day progressed. At the start of this walk my knee was feeling stiff and ideally I should have been resting it, but I find that difficult to do when I’m on holiday and the only thing I want to do is walk. Since the weather had deteriorated I felt that I could rest it by doing a relatively easy walk by walking along the Steam Heritage Trail, which runs along the course of an old railway that used to run between the city of Douglas, on the Isle of Man, and the town of Peel. I wanted to do this trail when I first came to the Isle of Man last year, but I felt it was too easy when there are many more exciting walks to do on this wondrous island. Now, with the poor weather and my dodgy knee, I thought this would be the best time to do it, so with drizzle in the air I made my way through Douglas from my accommodation to Quarter Bridge where I joined the start of the trial, which initially runs along a tarmac road alongside the busy main road. After I left the road, plunging into gorgeous woodland surroundings, wild garlic dominated the scene, though it wasn’t in flower yet, unlike at Easter last year. Wood anemones could also be seen and at Union Mills I could see some early flowering bluebells, as well as primroses and celandines.

The trail never strayed far from the River Dhoo and the best displays were often on its banks. Soon, the rain cleared and after passing Glen Vine blue sky appeared ahead of me, however, it wasn’t to last. Walking along an old railway line soon gets monotonous as there is little change in the view and the gradient is flat, which was helping my knee, but was tedious to walk upon. With nothing to interest me I just disengaged my brain and kept repeatedly putting one foot in front of the other, appreciating the wild scenery as it passed. Between Crosby and Greeba the ground by the side of the path was very water-logged, marshy, which helped the growth of marsh marigold whose bright, yellow flowers provided a welcome decoration. After passing St Johns, soon after passing over the River Neb, I branched right off the trail, despite having several more miles to go into Peel, to follow the course of the old railway line that used to run up the coast, around the hills and eventually reach the town of Ramsey. The Steam Heritage Trail had kept to the low ground between the hills in the north of the island and those to the south, largely running beside rivers and had a good hard surface underfoot, suitable for cycles. 

This path was very different, being grassy and passed through hillier terrain, dominated by farmland. It was lined by hawthorn and gorse and more railway engineering was required on this branch with cuttings and embankments often encountered as the old railway cut through the undulating farmland. Eventually I was joined by the coastal footpath, Raad ny Foillan, but despite the proximity of the sea the scenery wasn’t much better as the rain fell again, albeit briefly, until eventually I reached Glen Mooar where the railway used to cross the deep valley on an impressive viaduct, but this has sadly gone with just the tall, stone pillars remaining in remembrance. I wanted to explore the valley so instead of following the coastal path onto the beach I turned inland on a path that took me through gorgeous woodland, though my knees screamed at having to climb the side of the valley. Even though the woodland floor was filled with many green plants, none of the wild flowers were actually flowering, though I’m sure they were a few short weeks later. At the top of the path I could hear a noisy waterfall and a path led me steeply down to the foot of Spooyt Vane in its stunning woodland surround. After taking a few pictures I climbed back up the steep path, doing everything I could to ease the pressure on my knees, until I reached a lane that took me out of the valley and back onto the course of the railway. 

Soon, I reached another valley, Glen Wyllin, where a steep descent brought me down to the banks of the river and a caravan park where I found a path that led me back up the side of the valley, firing up my glutes on the steep ascent. The path continued into Cooildarry Nature Reserve, which was a great valley filled with many wondrous delights, enlivened by the sun coming out at just this moment. Unfortunately I felt I needed to rush to catch a bus so I didn't linger, walking briskly through the fabulous scenery until I finally climbed out of the valley and onto the road just outside Kirk Michael. These two valleys were a treat after my long walk along the old railway line and, apart from a few complaints in the glens at the end, my knees were quiet. Despite poor weather for most of the day I was able to do a great walk through some fabulous wild scenery.