Hiking The West Highland Way Solo

In September 2024, I tackled West Highland Way solo, a 96-mile journey from Glasgow to Fort William through Scotland’s wildest landscapes. I kept a daily blog which I hope gives you a sense of my experience and some ideas if you are planning to walk this route yourself.

So, with only my backpack and my own two feet, I stepped onto the trail, ready for long days, quiet moments, and the kind of adventure that I always know will stay with me long after I have taken my boots off."

Freedom to enjoy the journey! 

Day 1 – West Highland Way: Milngavie to Drymen, 22km

Despite packing light, I realised my rucksack was still a little too heavy. So, I made the choice to use the wonderfully simple Baggage Freedom service, leaving me with just enough for the day ahead.

And instantly, I felt it. Freedom.

Freedom to notice, to breathe, to savour every moment the day offered. I reminded myself that carrying what we don’t truly need, physically, mentally, or emotionally, only slows us down. Don’t we all do that sometimes?

My Scottish client, Colin, joined me for the first leg, and his company was a joy. Our conversation flowed as easily as the sun streamed through the woodland paths, highlighting the first glimpses of the highland hills.

Apparently, it was the first dry day in a while. The grassy path was damp, the mountain streams full, a quiet reminder of Scotland’s recent rains.

And yet… I was unburdened. Fully present. The route, the scenery, the laughter, the shared stories, all of it had my full attention.

Not a single weight on my shoulders, not a thought, not the weather, not even my pack.

It was a good first day!

Day 2 – West Highland Way: Drymen to Rowardennan, 29km

Wealth has Many Faces

I realised today just how lucky I am to be experiencing the breath-taking Scottish Highlands in the sun. It was epic, a day that felt like passing through a magic gateway.

The wildness of the lowland hills and woodland paths, combined with the deep peace of Loch Lomond’s clear waters, created an energy unlike anywhere else I’ve been. Truly a unique vibe.

That energy carried me up and down Conic Hill, marking the shift from Lowland to Highland, and all along the edge of beautiful Loch Lomond. I even ended the day with a wild, icy swim, in the Loch, because, well… it had to be done!

The path was steep in parts, the distance challenging, yet somehow everything flowed. I felt the magic of the day in every step and every breath, deeply grateful for the chance to be here.

Wealth has many faces, and today, I felt truly rich.

Day 3 – West Highland Way: Rowardennan to Inverarnan, 25km (7–8 hours!)

Rocks, Roots, and a Real Challenge

On paper, this section looked completely doable in a day. The path hugged the edge of Loch Lomond, a stunningly beautiful stretch.

The first leg to Inversnaid rewarded every tough scramble with breath-taking views, and another exhilarating, icy wild swim. Pure magic.

But the second part, from Inversnaid to Inverarnan, was something else entirely. A rocky, root-lined path with steep ascents and descents, narrow ridges, and relentless obstacles. It felt almost impossible at times.

Once committed, there was only one way: forward. And I wasn’t alone in feeling the struggle. That day demanded concentration, courage, and perhaps a little prayer to the West Highland Way gods to see us safely through.

I reflected; I always seem to find that extra bit of strength when it’s hardest. I have clambered over many rocks, really tried hard, pushed, and prayed. And then, eventually, I have made it. I kept telling that this was the same as all the other times I have found myself in this position. It will be alright!

You may relate to this.

So eventually I reached Inverarnan, utterly knackered, but fully alive. And never has a pint of Peroni tasted so, so good. The company was great too. Despite the struggles I made a few friends on the way who I ended up having dinner with that night. 

It all ended well. 

Day 4 – West Highland Way: Inverarnan to Tyndrum 22.5 km 

Travelling Solo Doesn't mean you are Alone!

Today seemed easy in comparison to the previous day. A mix of hills, mountain streams and green wooded pathways seamlessly led to my bed for the night - a simple camping cabin at Tyndrum. Loved it! 

Walking the West Highland Way has been quite similar to my Camino hiking experiences. (kind of surprised me)

There are others sharing this experience at exactly the same time. Conversations open up easily, you bump into people numerous times, and you form connections. 

You may be travelling alone but you don't feel alone. 

You don't need to book a group trip as your own friendship group naturally forms all on its own. 

Day 5 – West Highland Way: Tyndrum to Kingshouse - 32km 

Marching (with awareness) Through the Highlands to Glencoe

I made a sensible call this morning, I cut 10 km off what would’ve been a 32 km day so I could reach my accommodation before nightfall. An early bus from Tyndrum to Bridge of Orchy did the heavy lifting for me, and I didn’t feel even a flicker of guilt, I knew it was smart energy management. 22km was far enough. 

The path toward Glencoe was glorious. True Highland scenery unfolded around me: blue skies, sparkling lochs, rivers and streams rushing over the rocks. The sun eased its way over the mountain tops as I walked, lighting everything up.

With the pressure off, I stopped a few times along the way simply to take it all in, to look, to listen, to breathe. So important on a walk like this.

Eventually I joined the old Military (Drove) Road, which runs almost all the way to Glencoe. The ground was hard underfoot, and as I followed its long, straight line through the landscape, I found myself imagining the troops and travellers who must have walked it over the centuries. In bad weather this remote stretch would be brutal, today, with calm skies and dry ground, I counted my blessings.

It felt good to enjoy the walk instead of marching through it. Sometimes the best thing you can do is make a decision that creates a little space, space to relax, to notice, to move without the weight of a deadline.

My bed for the night was a cosy micro-pod at the Glencoe Mountain Resort. I rounded off the day by meeting a few of my new West Highland Way friends for supper and a couple of beers. A perfect finish to a slightly easier day!

Day 6 – West Highland Way: Kingshouse (Glencoe Mountain Resort) to Kinlochleven 18km 

Building Resilience on the Way

This was the day the rain finally decided to show up.

The morning felt noticeably colder as I made my way across the great Glencoe. I couldn’t help but think of its history, the Glencoe Massacre and the fate of the MacDonald clan in 1692. There’s a weight to that landscape that you can almost feel under your feet.

Eventually the path climbed toward the Devil’s Staircase, a long zig-zag ascent leading to the first glimpse of Ben Nevis. The name comes from the soldiers under General Wade who had to haul road-building materials up this brutal section. It wasn’t popular then and, frankly, with the weight of my daypack, it wasn’t exactly winning me over either. (Get a grip, I told myself.)

The rain held off just long enough for me to climb up the Devil’s Staircase and enjoy lunch with a view. Then the heavens opened.

Highland weather can flip in an instant, and of course I’d managed to leave my rain cape in the forwarded bag because I’d grown too used to the sunshine. Brilliant well-done me! Luckily, I still had my waterproof jacket and trousers, though the trousers were only loosely qualified for the kind of rain you get up here.

The final few hours along the rocky path to Kinlochleven were spent walking in steady, unapologetic rain. Strangely, I didn’t mind. It felt like a proper Highland baptism, an initiation, a reminder to toughen up for whatever lay ahead. Maybe I had had it too good so far. 

By the time I reached the Blackwater Hostel and Camping site, I was dreaming of a warm room and a hot shower. To my amusement (and mild despair), I discovered I had actually booked a tent box, not a room. Honestly, how did I manage that?

So, my very wet and windy afternoon rolled into a wild, stormy night, with me curled up inside a little tent, hoping it wouldn’t take off without me. An experience I won’t forget in a hurry.

It reminded me how important flexibility is, and how resilience often gets built on days like this. The sun isn’t going to shine all the time, metaphorically or otherwise.

At least the local pub was warm, and the laughs with my WHW buddies, who had booked an actual room, was a perfect end to a wild, weather-soaked day.

Day 7 – West Highland Way The Last Leg: Kinlochleven to Fort William 28km 

The 3 Seasons in One Day Experience

After an interesting night in the Tent Box, my “special room with a view”, I pulled myself together for the long, remote Highland hike to Fort William.

It was raining. Hard.

Layered up in a rain cape, waterproof jacket, and trousers, I began the steady climb out of Kinlochleven. Not far along the path I bumped into Oliver Henderson, a Scotsman I’d passed a few times already. He was wild camping and carrying 14 kilos in this weather, very brave, I thought, especially when he told me he was 72. Incredible.

The day before, I'd met another Scotsman who was running the route one way and then planned to turn around and run the entire thing back. Absolutely mad, and amazing.

So, I continued with my own form of madness. The rain turned to sleet. I was soaked despite all the waterproofs. There was nowhere to stop for cover; the landscape was completely exposed. When I finally spotted a little stone house, I thought I'd found a place to shelter, until I realised the roof was missing. I stayed there for a while anyway, at least the walls provided a wind break.

The path itself demanded constant attention.  Rocky paths, cut through by streams and footbridges, with endless ascents and descents. This was not terrain to risk a fall. The weather couldn’t make up its mind either, one moment cold, blustery sleet, the next a burst of sunshine followed by another shower. Three seasons, winter, spring, and summer, cycling on repeat all day long.

It felt as though the Highlands were showing off their power. The power to change everything in an instant.

And strangely, I loved it. This was the true, untamed Scottish Highlands, and I felt grateful for every wild, unpredictable moment.

As I approached the view towards Ben Nevis, the sun finally broke through after a passing shower and a brilliant rainbow arched across the landscape.

A perfect, magical moment of completion.