Travel Diary: Hiking in the Highlands

Trail: West Highland Way - Scotland

There's nowhere on earth quite like Scotland. You can find yourself in a bustling city one second, and then be out in the moors without a soul in sight the next. I have to say, we didn't quite know what to expect when we decided to set off along one of the most famous walking trails in the country. We had agreed to trade the relative comfort of university residence life for what would be a presumably rain filled 6 days outdoors in the northern reaches of the UK. The planning stage wasn't exactly filling us with confidence. What sounded like a relatively benign (albeit long) trek in the wilderness quickly became a military operation thanks to our resident bartender and army veteran - who had kindly helped us make sure we were prepared. With map reading, survival skills, and a healthy dose of pessimism, he imparted the tools we would need to make it through in one piece. It didn't help that our classmates were openly taking bets on who would come back and who would be lost to the wilds forever. Still, tons of people hike the West Highland Way every year. So what if it rains and we don't know how to chart our course using the stars, we'll just stick to the path, make it to the end, and throw up a giant middle finger to everyone who had doubted us. Easy. The Beginning of the Beginning Unfortunately, our school was in Southern England. This meant driving to the nearest airport (London Gatwick in this case) and flying up to Glasgow before we could even set foot on the trail. Now remember, we were taking this trip to celebrate the end of our first year of university. Unfortunately, this meant before we left the school, we had to actually celebrate the end of our first year of university. Despite claims we would all be alert and ready to leave (our ride was at the lovely hour of 3AM), you can probably guess that a bunch of students fresh from completing a year of school didn't exactly deliver on this front. After rounding up our group (in various states of coherence and sobriety), we said our goodbyes to our classmates, many of whom would soon be enjoying the beaches of the Mediterranean, and hopped into a cab. Soon we arrived at the airport, with plenty of time to wolf down a breakfast and take stock. I'll be honest; the signs weren't good. Half our group was still feeling the effects of the drink while everyone else was enjoying what comes next (read: hangover). To top it all off, everyone seemed to have come down with some variety of illness. Typical. We don't get sick all year, but as soon as it comes time to leave, everyone seemed like they should be quarantined. Anyway, we made it through the mercifully short flight and landed in Glasgow. It was a rainy, dreary day in the city, which seemed pretty much in line with how everything had been going so far. After buying a four-person tent (close enough I guess), we divvied up the contents into everyone's bag and set off towards the train station. We were ready to start! Well not really. While we only had a short train ride out into the commuter town of Milngavie, we barely missed the first train and the next was mysteriously cancelled. It's safe to say this wasn't improving the collective mood. Everyone still sounded and looked like hell and patience was wearing thin. Eventually, we managed to catch a train to the start of the trail. No more stations, planes, or dreariness - we were ready for the Highlands! Day 1: Milngavie to Drymen - 19 km The thing about the West Highland Way is that it takes a while to get to the actual Highlands. Yeah it was na