Would you hike for two full days just for a well-earned reward? 🥾
“Worth it?”
“Absolutely.”
That wild question is exactly what me and six trusty pals decided to answer this past July, with nothing but grit, good vibes, and backpacks heavier than our doubts.
Our target? The Old Forge in Inverie, Scotland.
Remote. Legendary. And calling our names loud and clear.
From the very first step, it was obvious this trail doesn’t play nice.
Knee-deep bogs that try to steal your boots, sketchy bridges that wobble under pressure, river crossings that test your balance, and climbs that burn your legs hard.
“Still smiling?”
“Ask me again at the top.”
And as if that wasn’t enough, you’re hauling a heavy pack the entire way — every mile, every climb, no shortcuts.
But for those who answer the call of adventure?
So whether you’re thinking of taking on this trail yourself, or you’re just curious about what we went through, this post breaks down everything we learned from the journey — the highs, the struggles, and why we’d do it all over again.
Where is The Old Forge Pub?
The Old Forge sits right on the coastline of the Knoydart Peninsula, tucked away in the tiny village of Inverie.
“Middle of nowhere?”
“Exactly why it’s special.” 🌊
Famous across the globe, this legendary pub pulls in thousands of visitors every year, all drawn by its jaw-dropping views and seriously remote setting. Getting there isn’t easy—but that isolation is the magic that makes the experience unforgettable.
There are two main hiking routes if you’re planning to walk your way into Inverie — and trust me, choosing matters.
“Short and tricky, or long and smooth?”
“We went long.” 🥾
Option one is the 15-mile trail from Kinloch Hourn, while option two stretches to 30 miles from Glenfinnan. Once you finally reach Inverie, you’re rewarded with multiple ferries running daily that can take you straight to the port of Mallaig — a very welcome bonus after the miles.
Now, on paper, the 15-mile route sounds easier. Less distance, right? In reality, it turned out to be far more complicated logistically. The starting point, Kinloch Hourn, is a tiny, remote settlement only accessible by car via 22 miles of narrow, single-track road.
“Easy drive?”
“Not even close.”
You could drive there and park, but then comes the headache — how do you get your car back once you finish the hike? Some hikers solve this by walking all the way back to Kinloch after celebrating at The Old Forge. Problem solved… but double the effort. For anyone hiking one way only, you’re most likely looking at an expensive taxi ride post-adventure.
Wanting to avoid the transport stress — and honestly craving a longer challenge — we chose the 30-mile Glenfinnan route. Parking was simple: we left the car in Mallaig, then hopped on one of the many trains or buses running throughout the day straight to Glenfinnan Viaduct, the official trail start.
“More miles?”
“Worth every step.”
Inverie to Glenfinnan Walk Information
📍 Starting Location: Glenfinnan Viaduct
🥾 Distance: 30 miles (one way)
💪 Difficulty: Very Hard
⛅ Weather Check: BBC Weather – Knoydart Peninsula
Thanks to the Highlands’ wildly unpredictable weather and constantly changing ground conditions, giving a strict step-by-step route—like I usually do on this blog—just isn’t realistic this time.
Endless bogs and the near total absence of proper footpaths mean that while everyone heads in roughly the same direction, most hikers end up improvising their own route across the open sections depending on how the terrain looks that day.
“Is this the path?”
“Honestly… close enough.” 😅
Along the way, we crossed paths with several other hiking groups, each forging their own line through the soggy Scottish landscape, boots sinking and spirits somehow staying high.
That said, staying on course is crucial. Downloading a navigation app like AllTrails or OS Maps before setting off is absolutely essential. We took a few wrong turns ourselves, but regularly checking our GPS made sure we never drifted too far off route.
“Wrong way?”
“Maybe—but not for long.”
While I can’t break down every single step of this journey in detail, sharing our trail journal should still give you plenty of useful insights—and hopefully keep things entertaining along the way.
Let’s get into it 👇
The Old Forge Walk Journal – Glenfinnan to Inverie
Day 1 – Glenfinnan to A’Chuil bothy
Touching down in Mallaig just before midday, we wasted no time hopping on the 12:10 bus to Glenfinnan, buzzing to finally get moving. By 1:30pm, we rolled up at the Viaduct, tightened our straps, snapped a quick group photo, and hit the trail.
“Ready?”
“As we’ll ever be.” 📸
The opening miles were mostly flat, easing us in nicely—though it didn’t take long to realize just how unforgiving a heavy pack can be. A few of us admitted the strain was already creeping into our shoulders, the weight making its presence known early on.
“Is it supposed to feel this heavy?”
“Yep… welcome to day one.”
Still, the jaw-dropping scenery did its job, pulling our focus away from the aches and reminding us exactly why we were out there in the first place.
The footpath stayed nicely defined as we closed in on the first bothy, making for a smooth stretch early on. After a quick peek inside, we pushed forward along the track, crossed a nearby bridge—and that’s when it hit us.
“That’s the climb?”
“Yeah… that’s the climb.” ⛰️
Right in front of us stood the first major incline of the trek, bold and unapologetic, officially marking the moment where the trail stopped warming us up and started testing us.
Marching straight up into the clouds, the rocky trail slowly disappeared until all that remained were muddy footprints and flattened tall grass pointing the way forward.
“Still a path?”
“Close enough.” 🌫️
With our legs still fresh this early in the trek, we handled the climb better than expected, keeping morale high as we pushed upward.
“Not too bad, yeah?”
“Ask me later.”
At the summit, we took a well-earned 10-minute breather by a lone, isolated gate, digging into snacks and topping up energy before shouldering our packs and grinding on.
We were moving at a solid pace, completely unaware of just how long—and draining—the next stretch was about to be.
“Easy from here?”
“Not even close.”
Dropping down the far side of the hill, we followed the river toward the distant woodlands, only to run headfirst into what was arguably the most exhausting section of the entire trip. The ground stayed mostly flat, but the bogs? Relentless. Step after step, the Highland slop refused to give us a break, somehow getting deeper and more frequent the further we pushed on.
“Dry ground yet?”
“Keep dreaming.” 🥾
To dodge a particularly soggy patch, we veered up the hillside to our left, which gave us a bit of relief—at least for a while—until we had to make our way back down to cross the river.
“Careful…”
“Too late!” 😬
The descent turned out to be steeper than expected, since we’d climbed a bit too high. One of my pals tripped, sending hearts racing as they nearly tumbled down the hill face.
After a tense few minutes, we finally found a safe(ish) route down to the stream. Relief washed over us when we saw the crossing was shallow enough to hop across using the scattered rocks in our walking boots—no need to wrestle with river shoes.
Plodding on, fatigue was starting to hit everyone. The terrain wasn’t exactly tricky, but that endless swampland had a way of sucking the energy right out of you, slowing every step to a slog.
“Are we there yet?”
“Not even close.” 🥵
More than a few of us slipped, or worse—our legs vanished into hidden boggy holes scattered across the wetlands beyond the river.
I’ll admit it… I was one of them. Several times.
As evening crept in, we finally spotted the next stretch of the hike—a woodland entrance just a few hundred metres ahead. Even better, a dry footpath appeared, and relief washed over the group. 🌲
But first… the bridge. A risky crossing awaited. Some beams were already rotten, others looked barely able to hold our weight. Heart rates spiked.
Step by careful step, we inched across, each beam a tiny victory. Only to be greeted on the other side by a horde of midges.
“Not again!”
Quickly, head nets went on, and we bolted into the sanctuary of the woodlands.
Despite the buzzing attack, our soaked boots were thrilled to be back on solid ground. Feet finally felt a little human again.
By now, everyone was utterly fried, but we pushed on along the forest track, knowing A’Chuil bothy wasn’t far. Doddering along until 20:00, we reached the bothy—predictably full. No problem: we set up a wild camp a few hundred metres higher, where the wind kept the midges at bay and gave us some much-needed respite.
We settled into a calm night at camp, exhaustion hitting us all at once and turning everyone a little giddy. After some much‑needed food and plenty of laughs, we zipped ourselves into our tents around 22:30, ready to call it a day.
That should have been the end of an action‑packed day… but the Highlands weren’t done with us yet. 🌙
While six of us camped together out in the open, one friend chose to solo camp in his hammock tent about half a kilometre away, tucked into the nearby forestry.
Just after 11pm, as we were drifting off, he suddenly came rushing back into camp—covered in sludge and clearly shaken.
“Mate… I need help.”
“Now?”
Turns out, while cooking his dinner, he’d spotted a pair of beady eyes watching him from deep in the trees. At first, he brushed it off—but the creature slowly crept closer and closer until it was uncomfortably near. In the pitch‑black night, he still couldn’t tell what it was… until it started letting out a deep, barking‑like sound at him.
He tried yelping back, hoping to scare it off, but the animal stood its ground. Fear gripping him, he abandoned his gear and sprinted back to our camp—only to tumble into a waist‑high bog along the way. 😨
Roused from our tents, we ventured into the forest to recover his belongings. The landscape that seemed quiet and desolate by day now felt eerily alive, hillsides shadowed with deer silhouettes staring down at us.
We snatched up his gear quickly, while another friend kept watch with a flashlight—and there they were again, those same glowing eyes, silently observing from the darkness.
Looking back, it was probably just a territorial deer. But in that pitch‑black wilderness, whispers about wolf re-wilding projects in the region started creeping into our minds. With no phone signal to fact-check, the unsettling thought lingered as we made our way back to camp.
It took a while to calm down after the chaos of the night, but eventually sleep claimed us—and before we knew it, the sun rose on day two of our epic journey. 🌄
Day 2 – A’Chuil bothy to Inverie
Just like day one, the first few miles of day two gave us a friendly, easy-to-follow trail, easing us into the hike before it soon transformed into yet another boggy climb. 🥾
After conquering the uphill, we trailed alongside the winding river, weaving through stunning craggy valleys for several miles—each step offering its own little reward and keeping spirits high.
Even with fatigue creeping in, we couldn’t tear our eyes away from the breathtaking remoteness of the Knoydart wilderness. Every step reminded us we were deep in the heart of it. 🌲
Lost in the sweeping panoramas, it wasn’t long before the next bothy came into view, like a tiny beacon of relief on the horizon.
We paused for a quick bite at Sourlies bothy, but the team couldn’t ignore the warning signs any longer. Hours behind schedule, concern started creeping in—would we make it to Inverie in time for our 18:30 ferry back to Mallaig, the day’s last ride? ⏳
Scanning the map, the finish still looked far away. Ahead lay a notoriously boggy swamp, followed by a massive Munro climb, and then the long, gradual descent into Inverie. No shortcuts, no easy way out—just miles of gritty Highland challenge.
After a quick 20-minute refuel at the bothy, we were back on the trail by 12:45pm, determined to pick up the pace and avoid being stranded overnight. 🥾
All along the hike, other walkers heading the opposite way had warned us that the upcoming swamp was the toughest part of the trail. Much to our relief, it turned out to be far less brutal than expected.
As we entered the marsh, we ran into two locals who offered some advice: stick close to the river. It was the driest and safest route, while venturing deeper into the swamp risked plunging into three-metre-deep bog holes.
“Three metres?”
“Yeah… let’s stay by the water.”
Naturally, we stuck to their advice, keeping close to the river and steering clear of any hidden bog traps. Hopping through the marshes, we made fantastic time, and the team’s energy surged with renewed optimism. 🌊
That high spirits didn’t last long. As soon as we crossed the bridge out of the swamp, we were confronted with the final uphill. Fresh legs might handle it differently, but after poor sleep and days of hiking, the climb was a serious mental grind.
“Almost there?”
“Just… keep… going.”
The final stretch to The Old Forge
After grinding through 550 metres of relentless uphill, we finally reached the summit. The sense of achievement was huge—but then reality hit: over three more hours still stood between us and Inverie. 😅
“Three hours?”
“Yes… and every step counts!”
One of our crew decided to sprint the entire downhill, eager to finish, while the rest of us tackled the final stretch at a steady pace. 🏃♀️
The last four miles followed a well-marked path, and with dry ground under our feet and a sudden second wind, we ended up moving faster than any other part of the hike.
“Finally… speed mode!”
“Feels amazing!”
Reaching Inverie just after 5pm, walking along that lochside stretch as the pub slowly came into view felt almost magical. 🌅
Crossing the finish line was pure joy—and relief that we weren’t stranded overnight. Drinks in hand, we sank into our seats, finally letting ourselves breathe and relax.
Despite every ache and twinge making itself known as the adrenaline faded, our spirits were soaring. There’s something deeply cathartic about thru-hiking—venturing into the solitude of nature, far from modern comforts and distractions. Almost like a pilgrimage, it somehow does wonders for the soul. I’m sure my friends would agree.
After an hour soaking up the atmosphere at The Old Forge, it was sadly time to say goodbye and board the ferry back to Mallaig. Having been mostly stationary, our bodies had stiffened up completely, refusing to move!
Hobbling onto the boat, battered but victorious, we sailed back to civilisation, eagerly anticipating hot food and a cosy bed—the perfect reward after two days of epic hiking.
The Old Forge Hike – FAQs
How long does the Glenfinnan to Inverie walk take? 🕒
Most hikers spread the trek over three days, staying at A’Chuil bothy on day one, Sourlies bothy on day two, and finishing in Inverie on day three—a pace that lets you soak in the scenery without burning out.
For those wanting a shorter challenge, like we did, it’s possible to complete it in two days if your group is reasonably fit. We actually crammed our hike into just 1.5 days, which made it far more demanding than the standard schedule.
Some hardcore adventurers even manage to finish the entire trail in under 24 hours. Technically possible, but it takes serious fitness and a lot of luck with trail conditions on the day.
How do I catch the ferry from Inverie? ⛴️
You can pre-book your ferry on the official website to secure your spot.
Inverie can get busy with tourists, especially during peak times, so booking ahead is a smart move to avoid disappointment.
Where can I park my car in Mallaig? 🚗
East Bay Car Park is large and offers free overnight parking. We had no trouble finding spots, but keep in mind you can’t pre-book, so availability isn’t guaranteed.
Where to stay? 🛏️
Mallaig has plenty of accommodation options. We chose the Westhighland Hotel, which I’d highly recommend—it’s just a stone’s throw from the ferry terminal, and the restaurant serves up a great post-hike feast.
Alternatively, there are a few places to stay overnight in Inverie. Perfect if you want to linger longer at The Old Forge, but make sure to book well in advance to secure a spot.
Feeling adventurous? You could always wild camp for another night and fully embrace the Highland experience!
Best time of year to do the Old Forge hike? 🌤️
Most hikers tackle the trail from May to September. Outside of these months, expect shorter daylight, tougher terrain, and harsher weather.
Even in July, when we did the hike, conditions were far from perfect—so venturing off-peak would be a serious challenge.
What to pack for the Old Forge hike? 🎒
Packing the right gear is essential for a multi-day trek, especially on the unpredictable Highlands terrain. Covering everything in detail would be a whole separate article—way too much to squeeze at the end of this post.
For a solid overview, I recommend checking out Matt Walk Wild’s ‘Multi-Day Hike Kit List’.
That said, one thing you absolutely cannot skimp on is good-quality walking boots and socks. One of our group ignored this advice, and his feet were an absolute blister disaster for weeks after the hike.
I’ll spare you the imagery, but here’s a link to my post ‘BEST Walking Socks: 5 Brands Built For Hikers’ for anyone looking for recommendations.
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