Return to Scotland

I didn’t originally plan to hike the 95 mile long West Highland Way this year. 

It’s one of those trips that evolved out of email exchanges and fellow hikers’ hopes and dreams. When a friend told me last Christmas that they wanted to do a through-hike in Scotland this year, I remembered that when I first moved to Scotland over 10 years ago I studied the West Highland Way in depth and tried to carve out time to hike it then. 

Instead I wound up doing the Coast to Coast walk across England. Which was fabulous of course. 

At that time, the idea of doing a through-hike so close to my home seemed a bit silly. We had plenty of trails within a day’s drive from Aberdeen that we could explore and still sleep back at home in our own beds. So I put the West Highland Way map and guidebook on the shelf. 

But it seems like forgotten hiking dreams roll back around in their own time, and when I received a request for hiking in Scotland, the West Highland Way came back to my consciousness. 

So now here we are. After eight months of planning and training, I’m headed for the trailhead in Milngavie.

It’s actually been over a year since I walked as many hills in a row as I’m about to in the days ahead.

Last summer, just weeks away from my 50th birthday, I hurt my knee coming down one too many Alps. (Pictured below: August 2023. Last day of hiking in Switzerland. Leaning on Taido all the way down and puffy-eyed from crying.)

I was ‘out of the game’ for a few months, during which I read every single fantasy novel by Sarah Mass. All three series. Twice. My favorite is Throne of Glass. #obsessed

Then I started swimming, reluctantly. And puttering around on easy trails. I continued to loop the Downs about a thousand times. 

By March I was ready to push myself a little more. Every couple of weeks I would get out into the hills again and then come home to spend three days on ice and in recovery. 

In April, I led a low-grade walk in France where we averaged about 4 miles a day. Baby steps. (Mostly I had long lunches in old village squares, took one thousand pictures of wisteria in bloom and ate my weight in pastries. It was delightful!) 

In May I returned to the Camino, my first string of long days in a row, but with minimal elevation. (Again, many long lunch breaks con cervezas por favor!)

In June, Mary Polly came to Guernsey with me to do some easy coastal walking (and to explore an island that has lived large in my imagination since my book club read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society many years ago!) 

Since then, the summer has been a long, luxuriously slow mix of countryside and seaside walks in the UK, with a few long hill walks along the way. I’ve gradually returned to climbing up hills, but when Taido and Simon made the annual pilgrimage to Greater Heights (this time to the Dolomites), I stayed behind. I was so sad to miss (the FOMO was real!) but it was the right decision for this year. 

My parents made the long haul flight over to hang out with me while they were gone. We went to Pembrokeshire, where we did a lot of walking in the rain by the sea. (Also we saw puffins!!)

Which brings me to today. I’m having a pint while waiting for the train that will take me to the start of the West Highland Way and the greatest challenge I’ve faced since injuring myself last year.

This right-before-the-start-of-the-walk feeling is so familiar. 

But also it’s been a minute since I sat with this particular brand of unknowns:

Will I make I all the way from Milngavie to Fort William?

Will I finish strong or come home and need to enter recovery again?

Will it rain every day? (Probably)

Did I forget something? (Almost certainly)

Did I bring the right gear? (Almost certainly not)

Will I be able to sleep in the bunkhouses? (Sometimes)

Will I get us lost? (Maybe)

Will I be glad I did it? (For sure)

What is crazy is that in about 10 days and 100 miles I’ll have the answers to all these questions but they won’t seem to matter anymore. 

Hopefully I’ll have remembered in my very being that all that matters is the next step. 

And right now my next step is to find my train platform. 

Everything else will sort itself along the way. 

So raise a glass with me to new adventures!

Cheers y’all!!!