After a breakfast largely served in plastic bags I re-joined the path along the old railway line that I started yesterday. The flat track with its gentle curves occupied me for most of the morning as it followed a broad valley with hills each side, including a stumpy, craggy one called Dunglass, the remains of an old volcano. As the hours drifted by I plodded on, sometimes in trees, sometimes through fields. Today, the cyclists were more courteous, out for a Sunday ride, I received a few "hellos" and "thank yous" as I moved to one side in response to their bell or the whirring of tyres fast approaching. Quite a few people were out walking, in couples or with their dog.
I left the old railway at Strathblane and seeking my lunch asked a man where there might be a café. He directed me to "Coffee at the Wilson's" in nearby Blanefield assuring me of its excellent coffee. Discovering I was aiming to join the West Highland Way he also suggested following the John Muir Way to reach it. I had been following the John Muir Way for much of the last few days (or the unrelated Thomas Muir Trail). As John Muir was a promoter of wilderness areas and National Parks in the USA I am not sure what he would have thought about a route following canal towpaths and old railway lines being named after him.
Joining the West Highland Way marked the end of my westward traverse across Scotland from the end of the Pennine Way, and a change to a more northerly direction. For the past few days as I crossed the "Midland Valley" of Scotland I could see a line of mountains to the north. As I started up the West Highland Way I would soon being among them. First, I spent much of the afternoon still on lower ground following yet again the route of a long gone railway line.
The guidebook promised that after weeks of walking I would be rapidly overtaking those starting out on the West Highland Way. Sadly it was mistaken. I just about kept up with the pace of the handful of people I saw with rucksacks large enough to suggest they were following this popular long distance path. Several places; campsites, B&B's and cafés tried to attract the hiker's attention. Although the day's heat made me fancy a cold drink and maybe an ice cream I did not linger at the first café as it had some complicated phoning system for ordering. However, at a deli a kilometre or so further on it was a simple matter of picking what you wanted and going to the counter to pay, albeit in a face mask and with a contactless card, separated from the guy serving by a perspex screen. Such are the requirements to prevent transmission of the Coronavirus. A little before the village of Drymen, a man sitting on a bench engaged me in conversation on multiple topics including his view that Covid-19 was a lab created virus and that there were secrets yet to be discovered. He knew because he had read all about it on the internet he explained. As an engineer he was interested in such things.
Stopping at the small convenience store in Drymen, I struggled to find the items I wanted. The corridors were narrow, making it difficult for me to turn around without my rucksack knocking things off shelves, and I was effectively trapped between the person behind me and the one in front. This did not allow for browsing and inevitably I did not find everything I was looking for. I had thought of dining early at one of the pubs in the village but the performance of gaining a table, photographing and logging into the "track and trace" system, and trying to hear the person serving through their face mask made me choose the simpler option of leaving Drymen and eating something from my rucksack supplies once I had found a spot to camp. Although there was accommodation in Drymen, after several days in hotels and similar I wanted the freedom of the open air. In addition, I would soon reach Loch Lomond, a long section of which was part of a "Camping Management Area" where you needed either a wild camping permit, all of which had been taken, or a pitch in an organized campsite, whose websites indicated were full. To minimize the distance I had to walk tomorrow to reach the other side of the Camping Management Area I wanted to cover a few more kilometres today. So leaving Drymen and climbing up into forestry I had a pleasant walk through the trees with distant views of Loch Lomond and blue grey mountains. I am now in my tent, zipped up against the midges massed outside who are waiting for me go out and brush my teeth. Each time I do unzip my inner tent a squadron of these little insects invade and I have to squash them against the side of the tent before they bite me, which is a bit messy. In addition it is rather hot lying in my tent waiting for the sun to finally go down and the air to cool, marking the end of this long June day.
Update: A few years later I walked the first section of the West Highland Way from Milngavie (pronounced Mill-guy as I learnt at the railway station) to the point where I joined it from the John Muir Trail on my hike to John o'Groats. At the start of the West Highland Way there are many signs and an iron arch, much is made of this well walked path. A few people asked whether I was walking this long distance path. From Milngavie the path was among trees, often by a river, well used by local people walking their dogs. Later following the line of an old railway it reached where I had previously joined the path from the John Muir Way by a community of hut dwellers.
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