Day Forty Three

Wednesday 14 September – Milngavie to Drymen

The West Highland Way doesn't start in the Highlands. The “official” start, through an arch on the main street in Milngavie, has a distinctly lowland feel to it. It isn't until a day and a half into the WHW that you cross the Highland Line, a geological fault line caused by... stuff that happened a long time ago (a few more details later).

In the meantime, the path follows tracks, lanes and an old railway line roughly North West towards Loch Lomond. As soon as I passed the starting arch, I found myself avoiding a bread lorry in the shops' service yard. The WHW signs are thick on the ground here, which is a good thing, as footpaths leave and arrive in all directions. Behind the trees lurk housing and commercial buildings, but the Way itself is surprisingly peaceful surprisingly soon.

Allander Park is a dog-walker's paradise, and a great many dogs were being walked as I passed through. Mugdock Wood (part of a country park of the same name) was delightful, the sunlight dappled and the wind held at bay by the trees. The forecast was for high winds and heavy showers. The wind was brisk but not oppressive, and for much of the day I was sheltered from it by the folds of the land and by hedges and trees. There were no showers.

The walking was good underfoot and fairly level. Although, as I said, this is by no means Highland landscape, it is hilly and pleasantly green. By and large, the WHW finds a route round the hills, following what are probably old trackways between the settlements. Sheep and cows were enjoying the sunshine.

The Way avoids Strathblane village (town?), and gives good views of the rugged Strathblane Hills without actually climbing them. An outrider of the hills, Dumgoyach, is rather reminiscent of Castle Crag in the Lake District. The hill seems to rise almost vertically on its Southern side, rough rockfaces poking through thick vegetation. Behind the hill, just beyond Dumgoyach Farm, the WHW picks up the aforementioned ex-railway.

In use as a route into Glasgow until 1951 (so an interpretation board told me), this now provides nearly four miles of almost straight, almost level walking. It was rather boring, but the views of the hills added interest. By now, some of the more serious hills, which were to be a feature of days to come, could be seen to the North and West. Alongside the path was a grassy hump, inside which (the same board told me) was a pipeline carrying drinking water from Loch Lomond to Glasgow. In fact it was probably this I was sipping as I walked, having filled up at my Glasgow hotel.

A large sign on a farm trailer advertises Dumgoyne Distillery. I was not tempted to plod across a field to sample the wares, but quite a few were. Just before I reached the turn, a large party were heading back from the distillery towards the path. In fairness I should say that they were walking without any sign of over-indulgence but, once they reached the path, they just stood. I suppose they were waiting for stragglers. They cheerfully parted to let me through.

By now I had passed several other walkers with backpacks, some heading Northwest and some towards journey's end at Milngavie. At Gartness, I turned off the old railway on to a lane, and immediately the walking got more interesting, with twists, turns and gentle ups and downs. Easter Drumghassie Farm, a notice informed me, is the only campsite in the Drymen area, but I was of course heading for more substantial accommodation, so I pressed on.

The lane gained sufficient height for me to get a distant view of Loch Lomond to the West. Tomorrow I would reach its shores at Balmaha. At the A811 I turned off the West Highland Way and headed along a side road into Drymen. Some cloud had been passing across, but I approached the village in full sunlight. The busy square looked very attractive, and a handy cafe looked even more attractive.

After coffee and something (the coffee topped up freely – how civilised) I decided to spurn a lift offered by my hostess and walk to the b&b (Green Shadows: I had stayed there before, so I knew that lifts to and fro were only one ingredient in a luxurious mix of good things). From the signposted village viewpoint, it was a straightforward and attractive walk across a field and through some woodland to reach an intricate network of roadways leading to houses surrounding the remains of Buchanan Castle, and to a golf course where the golfers were hard at it.