I watched the rain pouring down from the comfort of the breakfast table in the hostel's communal kitchen. I had spent the morning chatting with a fellow from New Zealand. I'm always interested where New Zealanders end up vacationing since their home is often viewed as a paradise. With the rain falling outside, I didn't mind spending a little extra time inside listening to the political talk around the table. Today was an election day throughout Britain.

Thankfully, the rain slackened and stopped as we left the hostel for our last day. We passed through Drumnadrochit, passing on both the "official" and the "original" Loch Ness Exhibitions. We followed along the main highway out of town with a few views across the bay of Castle Urquhart, then took a turn up through some pastures and into the woods.

Today's hike would take us to our highest point of the walk (about 1,250ft, almost identical to Indiana's highest elevation). We would also walk further away from the Loch Ness, missing its northern end and coming into Inverness for the finale.

After a forest road, we hit bare ground and the wind and light rain forced us to don our rain jackets. We passed a logging operation when we reached the next section of forest, but still had to deal with the drizzle and breeze.

After a brief snack break we continued on the forest road under variable conditions. Grant was sure that each time he lowered his hood, the rain started up again. One moment the sun was out and rain was falling the next. After crossing a paved road, we walked around the edge of a field, exposed to a sideways rain. I cursed the trail designers for laying out a trail on the high ground instead of sticking to the shores of Loch Ness.

Before starting a 3-mile road walk, we took a detour marked on the map to a prehistoric stone circle. After bushwhacking through pine trees for 15 minutes, we gave up and headed back to the road. A large red-bearded farmer stood there waiting for us. Grant and I both thought he'd be mad that we were traipsing through his fields. However, he quickly invited us in for tea.

Howie had just returned from voting ("I took my own pen") and he and his wife Sandra let us dry out in front of their wood burning furnace, surrounded by their pack of large puppies. The rains picked up outside, while we sat warm and dry, talking about America and Scotland with Howie and Sandra. It was their land that the trail passed through before the road, and he was building a camping site for people who wanted to split the 18-mile section between Inverness and Drumnadrochit into two days. Howie had only acquired the land in 2000, before that it had last been used in the Bronze Age.

With another 10 miles to hike, Grant and I had to leave after an hour of delightful conversation. Thankfully, the rains had stopped again and we even had some sun over the next three miles. Grant was able to keep up a good walking pace, his knee wasn't bothering him on the road today. With the weather clearing I enjoyed the walk along the little-used country road past farms and country houses. But I wished the trail had headed over some of the low rocky rises we could see between us and Loch Ness.

Just before ducking back into the woods, we caught a view of Inverness. It seemed much further away than a couple of hours. Our forest road traveled through a pine forest, mostly alongside a stone wall. To our left we could see the Beauly Firth, salt water from the North Sea.

We took a final long break beside a pond and further padded Grant's heel blister. We had excellent views of Inverness from the pond and imagined we could pick out Inverness Castle, which marked the northern terminus of our walk. The town seemed much closer than it had an hour earlier.

A steep descent brought us down to a series of alternating road walks and country paths. Gradually our walk grew more urban as we passed golf courses, city parks, and children practicing football drills. I wondered if the Appalachian Trail ever passed through the backyards of a subdivision. We found it amusing when a Great Glen Way trail marker showed up next to a huge construction dumpster.

A short walk along the Caledonian Canal was the last we would see of that waterway, and we continued our urban traverse to the River Ness. Crossing a footbridge we walked through the Ness Islands, a city park complete with lighted walkways and park benches. Old men walked their dogs and we felt conspicuous in our backpacks.

Now on the east shore of the River Ness we headed into downtown Inverness. We nearly missed the marker telling us to take a right turn and pass through an alley. Turning the corner and heading up a hill we suddenly found ourselves at Inverness Castle. Once again, a drizzle was falling.

After a few pictures we ducked into the first restaurant and had our celebratory meal. Then we set out to find the hostel. The directions I had started from the bus station, but we were confused by the reference to a Safeway reached after turning left. We knew there was a Safeway right next door, but couldn't see how to turn left on Academy Street and pass this Safeway. After several tentative reconnaissance walks, we gave in and called the hostel for more specific instructions. It turns out there was another Safeway within walking distance, but the other direction.

With no further navigational challenges we reached the hostel and promptly stunk up the room with our smelly feet. We escaped our own stinky socks and left to find a pint of beer. Grant remembered a patron in the Smiddy bar in Drumnadrochit declaring the Hootananny to be the "best bar in Northern Scotland". With some great ales and live Scottish/Irish folk music, the Hootananny was an excellent end to our day.