Bastardos rule number 96: Always start your last day with the worst hangover of the week!
Oooft, got woken around 7am by Shona who was handing out British Heart Foundation t-shirts for us to wear on this, our last day.
Room 2 in the Blackwater Hostel, Kinlochleven was hangover central! You wouldn't have thought you'd have been able to dance to Northern Soul at 2am after walking 80 miles eh? But the Bastardos can!
Susan and Kaya had made everyone a packed lunch (much appreciated), this was dished out to everyone along with some fruit, crisps and biscuits.
We went to The Tailrace Inn for a full Scottish (my 6th of the week!) After breakfast we got our stretches done in the car park outside and we were off. Kinlochleven to Fort William, 16 miles. The mood was positive as it has been all week, but it also felt a wee bit bitter-sweet as it was the last day.
A very steep climb out of Kinlochleven took about 40 minutes and the mileage gain wasn't the best. After it levelled out a bit we got our pace on and cracked 6 miles just before 1pm, we stopped and had some lunch at a beautiful part of the Glen. I've lived in Scotland all of my life, but have been moved to tears a few times this week with the stunning scenery that surrounds us. We just have to remember to look up!
Shona has been encouraging all of the group to scatter some of Stevie's ashes at a place of their choosing. I took the opportunity to do this here, such a glorious view and our last lunch together as a group on the hillside is something I'll always remember.
After lunch we still have 10 miles to go, so we're looking at approximately another 5 hours of walking. Johnny B has used the word 'undulating' all week to describe areas of the walk. I hate that word, it means 'wave like', up and down, but there always seems to be more ups! An American lady stopped us and requested a photo of James. James has walked the whole route wearing his kilt every step of the way. Fantastic but not surprising achievement from a great young man.
The walk took us through the 'undulating' countryside, and after about 20 minutes we were passed by the front runner in the West Highland Way Race. Now, think about this, we've been walking all week, this guy completed the whole route in a new course record of 14hrs 20mins 11secs, astonishing!
We stopped a quick chat at a West Highland Way Race aid station and I was delighted to meet John Kynaston. He's a guru when it comes to all things ultrarunning, so it was an absolute pleasure to shake his hand and spend a couple of minutes in his company.
The walk then moved into the forest and the shade was very welcome as the sun was trying it's hardest to break through the clouds. Approaching the highest point we met a group of 5 (should have been 8) people who had stared in Fort William and are doing to West Highland Way in the opposite direction from ourselves, they were two hours in and had lost three of their group already. Hopefully they learned the 'stay together' rule and have a successful week. Did they say two hours? Two hours until the finish!
There's the ruin of a Fort here, it's a 10 minute walk up another hill. As were pondering going up an American couple came down from the Fort and Enzo enquired what it was like and (Cockney accent required for the next wee bit) "let's have a look at yer photas?"
Bastardos rule number 2: Never use more energy than is required, ever.
Last break to refuel and Kaya chose to scatter some ashes here, very appropriate as we were at marker for the West Highland Way and also in the shadow of the great Ben Nevis mountain.
It's downhill all the way to Fort William. I feel myself welling up as we enter the town itself. I knew it was gonna happen, but the lump in my throat was making it hard to speak. Sunglasses on.
Pauline, Andrea and Stuart had driven up to meet us at the finish and drive us home. A gesture that will never be forgotten, and which was also very much appreciated.
The finish, overwhelming, I find it hard to think about.
Every Bastardo present scattered some ashes at the end of the West Highland Way. Shona's Dad had sent over a bottle of Glenfiddich Whisky, which Shona carried all day in her backpack, along with a set of small glasses. Here we stood, 96 miles down the Way, and raised a glass to Stevies memory.
 |
| Bastardo Number 1 |
Gotta stop now.
Don't know what your plans are today, but change them.
Please consider donating a fiver to one of Shona's chosen charities using the links below.
