West Highland Way, Day 4: In the Footsteps of Rob Roy

Today would be our roughest walking, 14 miles to Inverarnan beyond the northern end of the lake, over rocky outcrops, boulders, rubble, and streams through some of the most beautiful scenery on earth with Highlands rising on both sides of the glacier gouged lake. It is wild country through the forest, silent other than the lake lapping at the shore below our craggy path.




We had been able to accumulate enough food along the way to have our usual picnic lunch at Inversnaid, not much here except a coach tour hotel which we avoided.


The afternoon walking was even more rugged than the morning through old forest,


but about a mile north of lunch we came to a spot I had been anticipating, as my walking buddies could tell you. Aside from having to put up with my renditions of "Oh, Flower of Scotland" they had to endure listening to me go on about Rob Roy MacGregor. The guy is either a Scottish hero or a cattle thief, but if you have watched Liam Neeson in the Rob Roy movie how could you not see him as a hero. So when we came to the spot of Rob Roy's cave, one of his hideaways at shore's edge, I was coaxed to have my picture taken.


Rob Roy actually went by his mother's name, Campbell, as use of the MacGregor name was abolished for over 170 years after the battle of Glen Fruin in 1603 in which the outnumbered MacGregors whupped the butts of the Colquhoun clan.

The Scottish Parliament in 1617 declared,

"...the name of MacGregor should be abolished and that the whole persons of that name should renounce their name and take some other name and that they nor none of their name and that they nor none of their posterity should call themselves Gregor or MacGregor under pain of death .... that any person or persons of the said clan who has already renounced their names or hereafter shall renounce their names or if any of their children or posterity shall at any time hereafter assume or take to themselves the name of Gregor or MacGregor ....that every such person or persons assuming or taking to themselves the said name .... shall incur the pain of death which pain shall be executed upon them without favour."

Family legend and The Gathering of the Clan by Carl Steele claim Alexander Steele, one of our grandfathers with five greats prefixed, was chief of the MacGregor clan, elected in 1714. He was born in Glen Strae where a branch of the MacGregors were concentrated and could have been a MacGregor using the name Steele since the MacGregor name was banned. All other evidence, however, does not support this family contention but rather that he was the son and grandson of English knights. How an English knight ended up Glen Strae - it must have been a pretty miserable place given the condition and status of the MacGregors at the time - is anyone's guess. He certainly would have hobnobbed with the MacGregors and was the same age as Rob Roy so I'd like to think they hung out together.

The loch was beginning to narrow and we realized we would soon be leaving it behind.


Climbing past the tip of the lake we could look back and see the beautiful little Island I Vow, or Eilean a' Bhò in Gaelic, where the MacFarland clan once had a castle stronghold.


We took a few minutes to say goodbye to the Loch,


and turned north to Inverarnan and our night's lodging at Drover's Inn, here since 1705 on an old drove road.


A sign in the room warned about the Scottish midges and in the bar "No Bloody Swearing". Waiters in kilts, my favorite beer in the whole world, another tasty dinner following a 14 mile walk along Loch Lomond.

Contentment, except that just at the end of the rough part of the walk my left shoe sole began flapping. I've borrowed some duct tape from the innkeeper. Let's hope it works.

West Highland Way, Day 3: The Bonnie, Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond

We waited over breakfast for the rain to clear but by 8 AM we knew we were in for some heavy rain. We geared up - gaiters, ponchos, umbrellas, backpack covers - and met out front under the 500 year old oak tree that gave our inn its name.


Even in the rain and mist, the Loch was mysteriously beautiful and we had only seven miles on foot today to reach our destination, Rowardennan.


We walked an up and down path along the banks of Loch Lomond, through the dense woodland of Arrochymore and Lag an Arnair Wood, coming to a ranger station just before lunch. After answering our questions, the ranger began to play a strange flute like instrument and, encouraged by our attention, he soon donned a wreath of leaves. It's these little intimate moments that make traveling on foot rewarding.


We found a spot for lunch on the shore after our serenade, and what a beautiful spot,


even with the rain and midges that come out in the damp weather. Jan had her own system for staying dry and protected.


After lunch the skies cleared and the lake was a beautiful mirror.




We walked on through the oak and pine Rowardennan Forest and Ross Wood, one of those experiences confirming that God is the master landscape designer.


We had plenty of time today to pick berries, straight off the bush to our mouths as nature intended. Yum.


We reached our inn in mid-afternoon. One of the nice things I enjoy about traveling on foot is never knowing what the guys at MacsAdventure have in store for us in the evening. It could be a B & B, dairy farm, room over a pub - but I always know it will be an experience.

This evening we stayed at the historic Rowardennan Hotel, dating back to 1696, where one of Rob Roy's sons brought a kidnapped heiress and forced her to go through a marriage ceremony - earned him the gallows in Edinburgh - and where drovers stayed on their way to markets in Stirling and Falkirk with their cattle.


The inn sits on the edge of Loch Lomond and at the foot of Ben Lomond, the first of the munros of the Scottish Highlands. (A munro is a mountain over 3000'.) The view from our window is breathtaking.


With the long "white nights", we had lots of time to enjoy the area and Kathleen and I took a walk on the beach, each of us taking some quiet time.


Along shore was another reminder of Scotland's sacrifice, the Ben Lomond Memorial dedicated to those who lost their lives in service.


Dinner on the patio on the shores of Loch Lomond, the best fish and chips in the world along with a half pint of Scottish beer...it doesn't get much better, except if Patty was here.


Tomorrow, Rob Roy country.