My sister Holly is beginning to wonder if the main attraction is ever going to make an appearance. Not that either of us is complaining, immersed as we are in Scotland’s wild landscape with mountains dominating the horizon. But for once, we’re not here for them.
We’re a good few hours into the first day of our hiking adventure when finally, we see it.
While its legendary monster seems to be playing hard to get, there’s no doubt that what at last commands our view is Scotland’s most famous body of water.
This is Loch Ness, and we’re on a four-day hike around its perimeter, but not quite how you’d expect. We’re on the Loch Ness 360° trail, a 129-kilometre circuit around the loch and the perfect two-footed way to see what is arguably Scotland’s most iconic area.
Where to begin?
Being a circular route you can, of course, start where you like; but Inverness, with its nearby airport and connection to the A9, is an obvious choice.
It’s also the only train station on the route which is ideal for Holly, who abandoned her homeland for the bright lights of London a decade ago. Just between me and you, I’m hoping this trip might lure her back.
Inverness sparkles when the sun shines, and the weather gods are with us as we leave the city, discussing the relative merits of London and Scotland, a comparison which inevitably centres on weather versus landscape. Before we know it, we’re climbing high above the city.
We look back to marvel at the terrain, somewhat alarmingly lacking any real snow in late March. My body compass has never been particularly accurate but I sense we’re heading away from Loch Ness, and for once I’m right.
But we’re not in a rush to get to the water. We walk through pine forest until the trail opens out onto a back road and mountains rise up ahead and to our right. I point out various peaks and give their names authoritatively, not entirely sure I’m correct. There are a lot of them.
Armed with maps and good signage so far, we’re both enjoying the feeling of partial disorientation, with Loch Ness nowhere to be seen.
Now it’s into the woods once more at Abriachan and down we go, twisting and winding with the trail, stopping to nod admiringly at a passing solo mountain biker until we reach a gate. The trees pull back and suddenly there it is.
Holly exhales. "That’s a lot of water," she says. It certainly is – more water in fact than every lake in England and Wales combined. The sight of Urquhart Castle completes the perfect Scottish view and signals the end of our first day. We head down into Drumnadrochit for a pint, a meal and a dram at the aptly named Fiddler’s restaurant, the perfect end to a great day catching up with my youngest sibling.
The big one
It’s day two, and we’re really breaking the proverbial back of things – but hopefully not our own. We’re heading to Fort Augustus but adding a much-discussed ‘extra bit’, up a significant and somewhat unpronounceable peak, Meall Fuar-mhonaidh.
In addition, between Drumnadrochit and Invermoriston and Invermoriston and Fort Augustus there are both low- and high-level routes. We’ve decided to take the low route to Invermoriston and the high route to Fort Augustus, which means a very early breakfast and getting up in the dark.
From Drumnadrochit the trail rises steeply through trees and then onto a back road. I point out Meall Fuar-mhonaidh in the distance. “We’re going up that? It’s miles away!” exclaims Holly. We reach the wonderfully named Grotaig, with its small car park – the recognised start point for our out-and-back route to the summit.
It’s a steady climb onto the ridge and then we head southwards to the top. At 699m and the biggest peak around, the views are as spectacular as expected. Loch Ness and its unrivalled vastness are on full display now, with that ancient fault line clear to see extending south towards Fort William.
To the west, those mountainous snow-capped peaks I’d glimpsed on day one seemed much closer, though that didn’t really help with my naming skills. We’re both mesmerised and agree to return on a bivvy adventure (after I explain to Holly what a bivvy adventure is).
Eventually and somewhat reluctantly we retrace our steps, giving the standard yell of “not far now” to all we meet, even those with literally miles to go. Back on the trail, we immerse ourselves once more in the forest and walk along the smooth wide track.
Occasionally we pop out to see the loch and the phones are duly turned to camera mode while we sit, open our flasks and chat. We made the decision today to not stop at cafés and instead carry food with us to save time.
As we descend sharply down into Invermoriston, we’re all too aware that what goes down must go up. And sure enough, as we head out of the village the gradient cranks up and conversation levels drop. I comment that the off-road hairpins are well-built but my observation is met with just a grunt from Holly. This is ‘head down’ stuff.
I’ve already lost count of how many times we’ve popped out of the trees, but this particular one will live long in the memory. Even Holly, tired and shielding her eyes from the sunlight, exclaims, “Well that was definitely worth it.” In the circumstances, high praise indeed. And she’s right.
The perfect gravel trail rollercoasters ahead of us and our weary legs are re-energised. We even talk about how nice it would be to run this section. The light is just fading as we arrive into Fort Augustus, our ever so well earnt beer and haggis rounding off a magical day.
The missing link
Day three starts with the biggest and longest climb of our trip, from Fort Augustus to the summit at Carn an t-Suidhe. From just over sea-level to 450m it’s a solid climb. The beautifully built smooth gravel track is impressive but maybe not the ideal thing to follow a full breakfast.
At 19km today is our shortest day and while the start is tough, it’s also hugely rewarding and there are no complaints. The summit with its 360° view of the entire circuit is arguably the pinnacle of the trail.
I’ve been to this particular spot a few times and the experience is never quite the same – the weather always changes things. Today, for once, cloud and mist are our friends, adding as they do to the magical atmosphere.
I’ve been keen to show Holly this view and, as is customary, I point and narrate the landscape, well aware that she’s tempted by a move back north. I think this might just have swung it.
Looking north we can just about make out our overnight stop at Whitebridge. The trail to it meanders off-road and then by a river and we breeze along it, with time very much on our side and the wind at our backs.
The Whitebridge Hotel is the quintessential rural Highland hotel and Holly could have stayed there for a week. A warm and cosy bar, wood-burning stove and top-quality food. I’m not sure how life gets better.
The big finale
Our fourth and final day is another biggie – 43km back to Inverness to complete the circuit. With an overnight stop planned in the city, there’s no pressure to catch a train. As is befitting of a final day’s effort we follow our hearty breakfast at Whitebridge with another one shortly afterwards. Cameron’s tearoom comes only 5km in, but if you’re able to resist it you’ve got more willpower than us.
There’s a very different feel to this south-east side of the loch. Much less commercialised and busy, there are no towns the size or feel of Fort Augustus or Drumnadrochit, which bustle with tourists and are filled with Nessie-themed bits and pieces. Here, the pace of life seems slower, and for the better too. The contrast is stark.
The changing underfoot terrain continues to Inverfaraig then up the broken tarmac hairpin climb known as the Corkscrew and onto yet another iconic section, the Fair-Haired Lad’s Pass. We diligently tackled the most technical section of the whole trail and carefully plodded down the loose gravelly hairpins to meet the forest track, stopping to take photos.
We’d already long since agreed that when Loch Ness is on full display, it really is quite something, and so it is here. Our phone’s panoramic settings are stretched to the limit.
A well-timed lunch stop at the Inn in Dores hits the spot perfectly and set us up for the final 16km back to Inverness. It also marks our farewell to the loch itself. It had certainly been a feature of the route, but we’d seen and experienced so much more than just Loch Ness.
As Inverness eventually rolls out in front of us, I can’t help thinking Holly might just be on a one-way ticket next time.
For more Scottish hiking inspiration, see our list of the best walks in the Scottish Highlands.
About the author
Sean McFarlane is a Scottish outdoor writer, endurance athlete and filmmaker with a passion for big landscapes and long adventures. He’s contributed to Trail, 220 Triathlon, and BikeRadar, often exploring Scotland’s wildest corners on foot or by bike.
When he’s not writing or racing, Sean co-directs This Way Up Media, producing outdoor films that celebrate the raw beauty of the natural world. Expect honest storytelling, scenic routes, and the occasional bivvy bag.