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.

Dùn na Cuaiche and Coille-bhràghad

Sunday 16th April 2017

When I started to plan this holiday I wanted to go somewhere new and the lure of scotch whisky soon drew my attention to the Isle of Islay, which is famed for its distinctive distillations. However I was having difficulty coming up with a coherent plan, so I ended up spending a lot of time planning a holiday in the Yorkshire Dales instead. I became very keen on the idea of going back to the Yorkshire Dales, but a coherent plan proved even less achievable there, so in the end I turned my attention back to Islay and finally came up with a plan that I was happy with. Nevertheless, I had spent so much time planning a holiday in the Yorkshire Dales I was actually a little disappointed to be actually going to Scotland instead. Despite my intention to go to new places, this holiday actually started and finished in exactly the same way as a holiday I did in 2007, ten years ago. That is also the only other occasion that I’ve been to Scotland at Easter, and it started by catching a bus from Glasgow to the traditional county town of Argyll: Inveraray. In 2007 I enjoyed some good weather that enabled me to do some walking in the Arrochar Alps, but when I got up at the start of this day for a return visit to the Arrochar Alps I found that it was raining.

A walk up the Corbetts to the west of the A83 road would have to wait for another time and instead I decided to do some walking around Inveraray. Just outside the town is Inveraray Castle, ancestral home of the Duke of Argyll, Chief of the Clan Campbell, which I visited ten years ago. The website for the castle describes two walking routes on the Argyll Estate and after walking past the iconic castle I started to follow signs for the first of these routes: The Dun na Cuaiche Woodland Walk. As the rain continued to fall I passed over a bridge and took a narrow path through lovely plant-(though no flowers)-filled woodland. After passing across a narrow field the walk progressed through conifer woodland that showed nothing of interest except for a fleeting glimpse of a red squirrel before it darted across the track and up a tree. As I climbed, the misty views east opened out over Glen Aray while some woodland flowers began to appear beside the path including primroses as the path narrowed near the top and snaked up to reach the prominent tower that stands watch over the castle and the town of Inveraray.

Daffodils have been planted around the tower and celandines have also taken advantage of the clearing to share the view across the town and down Loch Fyne. Despite the misty views and rain I enjoyed wandering around the top of this grassy mound while gazing down the precipitous tree-clad slopes. There is a higher hill behind Dùn na Cuaiche, named Dùn Còrr-Bhile that has a trig point on it, but since there is not a clear path through the trees, although I considered attempting it, I decided against it. Once I was all the way back down, by the way that I had come, I was struck by the tremendous promise in the wood near the bridge as it was clearly filled with bluebells that next month would be putting on a spectacular display that unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to see. On the lane heading away from the castle there were some delightful, delicate pink flowers that are probably cuckooflower, which are so common I have some in my own garden, but still brightened an otherwise dull day.

The second walk described on the Inveraray Castle website follows this lane beside the River Aray through Carloonan Farm to reach Carloonan Bridge where the river passes through some spectacular rapids. The directions had me turn left after this bridge but muddy paths encouraged me to turn right past Balantyre Lodge and onto the A819 road. A forestry track on the other side of the road was no better than the paths that I had been trying to avoid, but after rejoining the original route, and crossing the Allt Bail’ a’ Ghobhainn burn, I came across signs warning of forestry operations that barred access. If there had been actual forestry operations taking place at that moment I would have turned back, as I did last September, however, since it was Easter Sunday and there was no danger, I proceeded along the churned up track, past the abandoned forestry vehicles and the tall piles of cut logs that were giving off the unmistakable and pungent smell of fresh timber. The path improved as I passed beyond the felled areas to where felling that taken place some time ago with some recovery having sunsequently taken place to produce lovely displays of primroses as well as more depressing bushes of the invasive rhododendron.

As I made my way along the track the rain finally stopped, which made the walk a little more pleasant even though it was still rather grey and dull while low cloud spoilt the view, though Dùn na Cuaiche could now be clearly seen with Loch Fyne beyond. Eventually I reached the waterfall Steallaire Bàn that was surrounded by leafless trees covered in luxuriously soft, green moss which made for a stunning scene and compensated for the cascades that claim to be a waterfall. Beyond the falls, the path began to descend and pass through Eas a Chòsain, a ravine that was gorgeously filled with plants from moss on the trees to small flowers on the ground and up the steep sides of the narrow gully. I was in awe of this magical place and even though it had started to rain again I enjoyed every step as I slowly made my way down this explosion of green. This gully is shrouded by deciduous trees, which marks the difference with the conifer plantation that I had passed through earlier on the trail. They can never have the same feel of a natural wood and can never produce the reaction that I got from this gully.

Eventually this magical delight came to an end at the bottom where I turned onto a minor road that eventually took me back into Inveraray. Neither of these walks were great, except for the descent at the end through the gully that ultimately made the walk worthwhile. They hadn’t taken me very long and I was back into Inveraray by two in the afternoon leaving me to wander around the town for the rest of the day including visiting the nineteenth century Jail, but the day had already been ruined by the rain. Before coming to Scotland, I had been asked how much hiking I was going to do, and I had to respond that I wasn’t going to be doing much walking as my main purpose for being in Scotland was really just sight-seeing. Even though I did manage to do a bit of walking on this day, most of the afternoon was spent being a tourist. If I had gone to the Yorkshire Dales then I would have done a lot more hiking, but unfortunately that was not the main goal of this holiday.

Beinn Dorain & Beinn an Dothaidh

More from my holiday in 2005 spent walking in Scotland. 

Friday 22nd July 2005 

The weather for this holiday was now stunning and it was set to stay like that for several days which suited me! On this day I left Crianlarich, with I must admit more than a little regret as I had enjoyed my time there; it is a good, quiet hostel without too many people, and with some great walking in the area. By the end of the day I was in the Glen Nevis Hostel, at the foot of Ben Nevis, which is anything but quiet! Before getting there I took a train to Bridge of Orchy and began to climb a steep, sometimes muddy path through the awesome surrounds of Coire an Dothaidh onto the bealach between the two mountains, following Ralph Storer's route number nine from his seminal book, "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains". Turning right I headed towards Beinn Dorain, rejecting a path that veers to the right half way up the gentle slope, staying on top of the ridge passing over a false summit until eventually I reached the true summit where extensive, impressive views could be seen around all the area. 

After lunch, both for me and the midges (they always find the bit that I miss with insect repellent – in this case on my forehead, under my hat!), I headed south off the peak seemingly into a very quick descent (the sort that ends with a splat at the bottom!), but the path quickly turned 180° to cling to the cliff edge below the summit across the western slopes of the mountain. The narrow, precipitous, and thoroughly enjoyable, path commanded breath-taking views of the valley below that included a train that was conveniently passing by at that time. This turned out to be the path that I had rejected earlier thinking that it couldn’t have gone to the summit. Now in descent I was less weary than during the ascent so I was able to enjoy the path and appreciate the extensive views on this alternative return route.

On returning to the bealach I began to ascend my second Munro of the day across the wide, pathless, grassy slopes. Beinn an Dothaidh is a triple-topped mountain, all of which are on its northern edge with the southern side sloping down to the bealach with Beinn Dorain. I decided to head for the western top first, aiming for a small ridge that juts out from that point. Once this was gained I had a pleasurable stroll along the short ridge to the cairn on the north-western corner of the mountain. The views across Rannoch Moor were awe-inspiring and continued as I strolled along the top of the mountain to the central peak, which is also the highest. When I got to the cairn on the eastern top I paused to take in the view, feeling both supreme satisfaction and a great reluctance to the leave the mountain. The weather was hot, the skies were clear and from my vantage point I could look out across both mountains. It was a glorious sight and reminded me why it was that I walk up mountains.

But unfortunately I couldn't stay up there. I had already missed the train, but I'd planned on catching a bus instead, so with the clock ticking I headed down the grassy (and on its eastern side somewhat boggy) slopes to the bealach. I then descended the path through the corrie back to Bridge of Orchy where I had ten minutes to spare before the bus was due (long enough for a quick drink at the hotel!). The bus went through Glen Coe, which let me see this magical valley for the first time and I was absolutely gobsmacked with the scenery that I could see with the Three Sisters simply taking my breath away. I fell in love with the area instantly and was heart-broken when the bus moved on. From then on I knew where I would be going the following year!

West Highland Way, part 4

Saturday 17th July 2004

It was very wet at the start of my fourth day on the West Highland Way and it was just as wet in the afternoon, nevertheless it was a good day. I do seem to have a serious problem, though, with going slowly, or is it just that fourteen miles is far too short a distance for me to walk in one day? I left Crianlarich late having gotten up later than usual and proceeded up the hillside and rejoined the West Highland Way at the crossroads where I'd left it the day before. The trail continued to climb until from the highest point I had good views over the valley before slowly I began to descend back down to the valley floor.

 

I got to Tyndrum about lunchtime and loitered around having a good look around the outdoors store trying to decide if there was anything I could possibly need. Then I went to the mini-market and did likewise. After eating my just-bought lunch I headed up the path to walk beside the railway line slowly heading towards Bridge of Orchy via the Auch Gleann Horseshoe. It was amazing to see this astonishing railway feature from the ground after previously only seeing it from the train, and seeing it in the rain didn’t lesson it’s effect. Eventually I reached Bridge of Orchy and after looking at the bridge in glorious sunshine (curse the weather!) I returned to the station where I was spending the night, in the bunkhouse on the platform, which is an extraordinary place to stay. The next day I would have another twenty mile walk to do which would take me all the way to Kinlochleven. Sixty miles were already done, and I did not have far to go to Fort William.

Ben Cruachan

Wednesday 19th July 2006

This was a long day mainly due to a late start. I caught a train from Crianlarich towards Oban, getting off at the ‘Falls of Cruachan’ station, however the train didn't leave Crianlarich till 10.39 so most of the morning was over by the time I started the walk. Add to that the very hot temperatures and we have a long, strenuous walk, but one that will always be remembered due to the sheer magnificence of the mountain climbed. Starting from the station I probably immediately made a mistake by going up a service road for the power station, crossing the railway line I found myself on a narrow, overgrown and very steep path that didn't seem to have had anyone on it in years. Despite everything to the contrary the path continued up the hill beside the Cruachan burn into cooler, clearer air and the road that leads up to Cruachan Dam.

After the steep ascent in sweltering temperatures, I followed the service road up to the eastern end of the dam and continued beyond the road on a footpath beside the half-full reservoir before turning steeply up the hillside. The hot weather and a full rucksack made this climb virtually impossible and left me in a poor state where I would stumble a few steps, stop for a rest, and then took a few more paces before stopping again for a rest. Through stubborn determination I somehow managed to drag myself all the way up onto the top of the ridge and once I finally got there I just collapsed.

Since I couldn't go anywhere, even if I'd wanted to, I had my lunch while gazing out over the stunning scenery all around me. The views weren't perfect as the haze that I had encountered the day before was persisting, but the haze failed to prevent me from seeing the amazing views of the imposing bulk of Ben Cruachan behind me and the shadowy mountains on the horizon eastwards. Dragging myself back into action I climbed over Stob Garbh and up to Stob Diamh, my first Munro of the day. Gazing eastwards I saw a Munro top, Sron an Isean, only a short walk away and I couldn't resist it, so abandoning my rucksack on the Munro I leapt down the steep rocky path and bagged the top before coming back to the Munro enjoying the steep rocky ascent.

With the heavy rucksack back on my back I slowly made my down the narrow rocky ridge across to Drochaid Ghlas and with the terrain now becoming rockier I was finally beginning to enjoy the walk. Slowly I made my way up the tremendous ridge climbing all the way up to the top of Ben Cruachan, and what a mountain! What a massive hulking behemoth! This mountain must rank with the best of them as it is a huge mass of rock erected in a delightful, conical, mountain shape. If anything deserves the title of mountain rather than being merely a hill then this is it. I was disappointed to have to leave the summit but it was past five o'clock so the day was already old and I still had a long way to go. Reluctantly I left the summit and descended a fabulous rocky slope to Bealach an Lochain before climbing up onto Meall Cuanail (which was another good rocky path). Ahead of me now was a long, grassy descent leading all the way down to the dam, but was I bothered? No, the rucksack was now mysteriously very light as I joyfully bounced down the hill. On reaching the dam I descended the grass slopes beside it to the service road where I picked up a path on the opposite side of the burn descending on a much better path than I had climbed.

Joyfully, I descended through the trees and rhododendrons returning to the road a little before eight o'clock, not long before a bus was due to Oban. This was perfect timing for a perfect walk, except for the hot weather, heavy rucksack and the late start, but with terrain as brilliantly rugged as Ben Cruachan, I could forget any problems. Any walk on Ben Cruachan is a perfect walk.