Hay's Way: My two year 2,000-mile walk through Scotland and why I am still going

The squat grey statue was hard to make out through the torrential rain and thick fog that Storm Dave dragged across the banks of Loch Lomond.

It was a poor day for a statue to be out, never mind a round-Scotland walker. Then I moved closer, until I stood next to legendary mountaineer and broadcaster Tom Weir. He was a bit cold, out there for donkey's years. I put my arm round him and we both smiled for the selfie.

Both hardened by the elements. Maybe one a bit more so than the other, for now. | Katharine Hay

Yet, whatever the weather, reaching the bronze figure at the water’s edge in Balmaha was a marked moment on Hay’s Way. The project is a walking tour of Scotland that I began two years ago to visit and explore rural communities and the issues facing them.

The name of the 'ongoing odyssey', as it has since been described, was — if that were not already obvious — inspired by Mr Weir himself. The late climber and writer is perhaps best known for his STV series Weir’s Way. Donning his signature red bobble hat, he introduced viewers throughout the 1970s and 80s to remote, scenic corners of the country and to the folk who call them home.

Read more: One of the most impressive communities I've met since walking round Scotland for the last 18 months

Tom Weir | Allan Milligan / The Scotsman

So passing this kindred landmark prompts me to reflect and share where I've got to in my circumambulation.

In the roughly 2,000 or so miles (3,200 km) I have walked through 23 of Scotland’s 32 council areas, I have reported on communities from the Highlands to the Borders, the south of Scotland to the Northern Isles and many parts in between. I mostly camp out in my tent, my constant load and companion, but the amazing hospitality of rural Scotland means I am often welcomed into strangers’ homes when the going gets tough.

Camped at a cave near Cullen, Aberdeenshire in July 2025 | Katharine Hay

Celebrating some sunshine while camping on Sanday, Orkney in October 2025 | Katharine Hay

By that, I mainly mean when the weather turns. It is Scotland, after all. From a cabin on a boat on the Caledonian Canal, to sharing a shed with some feral cats on a Shetland croft to being put up in a whisky boss’s 'bridal suite' on the Speyside Way, I’ve found many a home-away-from-home to prop me up along the way. As well as much-needed comfort at times, stepping into these homes has helped me to appreciate the lives of many diverse folk.

Read more: The Great Glen Way: My experience tackling one of Scotland's long distance routes solo in low-season

Boat owner on the Caledonian Canal put me up in a cabin when I walked the Great Glen Way in February 2025 | Katharine Hay

Put up for a night and invited to whisky events by managing director of independent bottler Murray McDavid while walking the Speyside Way last summer |

Passing through larger towns, I may seek out a hostel or a cheap hotel room rather than camping in an urban park, where my tent can be targeted by intimidating teenagers. Though, a recent cheap hotel I booked to dry out in wasn’t much better. Upon arriving at the front desk to an all-in-one hotel, bar and club in Balloch, I was asked to pay a £60 deposit straight up should I 'pull the TV off the wall, smash a window or break a door in.' After explaining that my sole intention was to stand in a room and dry my tent, like a cormorant airing its wings, I was told their precautionary system was in place 'because of what the Glasgow boys get up to.'

Following a pause in my Edinburgh flat over the wintry months when the short days give little time to walk, I have spent the last few weeks back on the road, witnessing the wildlife slowly but surely wake up again after hibernation.

The 125 or so miles it has taken me to get to Loch Lomond has seen me walk through Falkirk, Stirling, Callander, Aberfoyle and onto the bonnie banks. The journey has, as is the way with Hay’s Way, been interspersed with working full-time during the week from whatever space to 'log on' that I can find. Falkirk, Plean, Bannockburn, Stirling and Callander public libraries all became my office during weekdays. Cafes, hotel lobbies, people’s living rooms and campsite kitchens have also been welcome alternative workspaces.

Read more: I've been walking around Scotland for over a year - I think I've found my favourite spot

Jim MacPherson gave me a coffee and a Tango while I did some work from the Bannockburn Truck Cafe while walking from Falkirk to Stirling a couple of weeks ago | Katharine Hay

Bannockburn Truck Cafe - a spot to work from while on the road | Katharine Hay

Spent several days working from Callander library last week while camping in a nearby campsite | Katharine Hay

What have I learned so far from walking the country? I certainly have more questions than when I set off.

But in many ways, I have found rural Scotland is changing faster than its cities. The change in the way we are generating power is leading to islands and glens that haven’t been touched since the last Ice Age seeing extensive development for the first time. The rush of 'natural capital' is monetising and re-designing tens of thousands of acres of what we’ve known for decades as traditional rural estates. The shift from tweedy landowners to the 'green lairds' is not just a shift in character, but a shift in how the landscape is managed. And of course, a shift in the nature of the communities living there. The family farm as we know it is more at risk than ever before, given changes to tax. The big money in commercial forestry, both timber and carbon credit related, mean more and more trees are marching across the moors. Natural restoration? Or the destruction of one of the world’s rarest habitats, heather moorland?

A mixture of natural regeneration of trees and also non-native Sitka spruce spreading across the Langholm moors | Katharine Hay

Walking the banks of Loch Lomond the last couple of days has shown how tourism has changed rural life. The uncomfortable truths of ‘right to roam’ lay bare with by-laws in place to manage destructive camping. The Cairngorms National Park has followed suit. Villages and towns have experienced complete makeovers to suit tourists, with entire settlements denuded of permanent residents to make space for lucrative holidaymakers.

Camping Management Zones have been in place in Loch Lomond for almost a decade because of the damage unmanaged camping can have on the local environment and wildlife | Katharine Hay

For many of these rural areas, fewer people live in them than ever before. I'm glad to be in a position to record and reflect on these drastic changes, and to forefront the lives of those who still live on the land and contribute so much to the fabric of Scottish life.

As I continue Hay’s Way, I will be heading in the direction of Mull of Kintyre before island hopping up the Inner Hebrides and visit the west coast peninsulas of Morven and Ardnamurchan. At least that’s the plan for now.

The people I meet and speak to along the way don’t always make headlines, but you can meet them through my free, weekly newsletter. It’s really easy to sign up - simply go to the ‘newsletters’ tab on The Scotsman’s website and click on the option to sign up to the Hay’s Way/Scotsman Rural weekly newsletter. You can also follow my Instagram page: @rural_kat for more visual updates.

And you can keep up with rural affairs daily news on The Scotsman under the section Hay’s Way, which I continue to write as I walk round the country. As for when the walk is going to end? I am not sure yet.