A walk across the Scottish Highlands

When I left town early in the morning, the smell of frying bacon was in the air. Every B&B, hotel and hostel was full, and people were fueling up for their hikes. I picked up my second trail, the Great Glen Way, and continued north. While the West Highland Way goes through the mountains and along wilderness lakeshores, the Great Glen Way follows the Caledonian Canal, forest trails and abandoned railroads for much of its distance. This makes for easier walking.

Past Fort William, everything was on a smaller scale; there were fewer hikers and fewer tourists. Stops were more likely to be lone tea shops or pubs, if there were any at all. It was sublimely peaceful — until I reached Fort Augustus and Loch Ness.

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Looking out from the edge of Fort Augustus, one can see Loch Ness between the trees. The town, of course, is acutely aware of this; it boasts a Loch Ness Monster statue and entire shops filled with monster stuff: toys, books, postcards, even collectibles.

I laughed at the stuffed toys and the silly postcards. Yet the instant I saw the panorama of the loch before me, all I could do was look for the monster. I had the fever. Every ripple in the water, every tiny boat on the horizon and every log sticking up was Nessie.

The Great Glen Way hardly ever touches the shore of Loch Ness; it travels the hills above it instead. The big lake is visible from every viewpoint and rarely out of sight. Even in deep forest, you can see it through the trees, and of course, I believed that every disturbance was the monster.

When the trail drops down to the town of Drumnadrochit on the shore of the loch, Nessie fever reaches its peak. The town is home to two museums devoted to the monster, and there were busloads of tourists everywhere. Most amazing, though, was the way we hikers would ignore the hubbub, walk up the trail for a few moments and suddenly realize that we had left the tourists behind.

The last 20 miles into Inverness were a microcosm of the whole journey: panoramic views of the lake, lush evergreen forests, fields of grazing sheep and a rural outdoor coffee shop with free-ranging chickens that tried to steal your food. Then came a steep downhill, a city in the distance, some condos, and finally Inverness itself.

My hike ended along the River Ness in an urban park. The last marker was on the grounds of Inverness Castle, a building that looked more like a blockhouse than a royal dwelling. I got myself a room in a B&B and finished what was left of the food in my pack. I was done, though too tired to celebrate.

I woke the next morning to the sound of pouring rain. The big storm that had held off for the 18 days of my hike had finally hit. I went back to bed and almost slept through breakfast.

Yarvin is a food and travel writer based in New Jersey.