Bridge of Orchy to Kingshouse
On our way down to breakfast we met the British couple we had first encountered above Drymen on day two and then a couple of times since. They were a bit nervous: without a booking at King’s House, they were walking all 21 miles to Kinlochleven.
Fortified by a good breakfast, we set out, a bit nervously, onto the most exposed part of the walk: the crossing of Rannoch Moor, which is always described as challenging. The hike starts with a long climb up to a ridge between Orchy and Loch Tulla. I was feeling very good and really enjoyed the walk as views opened backwards over Orchy to Beinn Dorain.
As we crested the ridge, we saw Loch Tulla directly below us and, to the right, the rising of the Black Mount, the high ground at the eastern edge of the Moor.
The clouds were very low today, so the summits of the Black Corries behind Loch Tulla were shrouded. We descended past the iconic lone conifer that graces so many pictures of the Black Corries; Sue’s back was sore and she went down the slope like a jackrabbit.
Down at the water, we de-packed long enough for Sue to check out the Inveroran Hotel, to which we want to return. Like King’s House, this is an 18th century drover’s inn.
We followed the road that rises gently around the end of Loch Tulla; we would probably encounter more walkers on this famous path than anywhere else on the walk, and we soon passed a pair of women with day packs, and were passed by two fast-moving solitary men. The old growth forest around Forest Lodge is very beautiful, but we were soon alongside an unsightly conifer plantation above Black Mount, the Fleming estate on the shores of the loch.
Once free of the plantation, the old cobbled road to Glencoe rises steadily onto the Black Mount. We stopped for a breather above the far end of Loch Tulla with extensive views onto the eastern reaches of the Moor.
We were soon in the broad pass between the big top Beinn Toaig and the smaller Meall Beag, and we began to put plantations behind us as the views opened to the left into the recesses of the Black Corries.
Before we knew it–captivated by the incredible scenery of the Moor stretching away, soggy and desolate, to the right–we were at Ba Bridge, where we had lunch and a long talk with a lovely older Scottish couple. The man was a walker and knew every path in the area.
From Ba Bridge the road rises about 500 feet to a saddle between the flanks of the White Corries and Beinn Chiorach, passing the ruins of the remarkably isolated Ba Cottage on the left.
The view back to the Black Corries is gorgeous, but, in the pass, the full extent of Rannoch Moor opens, dotted with innumerable lochs and lochans glinting blue, black, and all shades between in the sun. We also got our first glimpse of Kings House in the far distance.
We had had dramatic weather, with a few showers but mostly scudding clouds and patches of blue, but on the descent from the pass we had a real rain spell and had to put on our jackets, but not our pants. As the rain stopped, we walked around to the left as Buachaille Etive Mor came into view–a kind of spectacular high point of the whole trip.
The map had hinted that we would have to follow the Way all the way to A82 and then back up the road to the Glencoe Ski Area, but a side path took us across just below the center. We checked in but decided to leave our packs there and walk down to King’s House for dinner before walking back up and pitching the tent. A cup of tea at the center–nicely done with light wood and tons of glass looking out at the Herdsman–set us up nicely for the road walk down past Blackrock Cottage, across the road, and down to the inn.
We settled into the gloriously atmospheric lounge bar and had a drink. The barman was a wonderful young guy from Tasmania, who was jobbing with his girlfriend across Europe for two years, and full of advice on what to see once we had a car. We also saw the young Czech couple for the last time–they had overslept at Orchy and arrived long after us, ready for the last long day to Kinlochleven.
We loved the atmosphere in the inn: a real camaraderie with the tone set by hikers and climbers. Against all expectation, the food was some of the best of the trip. We started with smoked salmon; Sue had a wonderful local brook trout and I had a terrific ribeye steak. I took my life in my hands and had a dram before walking back up the hill–rather more slowly than we had come down.
We set up the tent, Sue having picked the site. But she blew the orientation and we were again head at the downhill end, as we later discovered. With camp ready to go, we went back up to the lodge for more tea and warmth–it was quite chilly on the mountain–where other campers were also taking advantage of the light and the fire. A second dram there didn’t hurt me.
I decided to sleep with my head at the narrow, but uphill end, and it worked very well, especially since having Sue at the other end meant that there was lots of room. I slept very well, but she was bothered by the lack of a pillow and the constant downward sliding!