Eilidh Campbell
What You're Signing Up For
A bothy is a simple shelter: usually four walls, a roof, a fireplace or stove, and perhaps a sleeping platform. That's it. No warden, no booking, no electricity, no running water beyond the burn outside. Some sit within a kilometre of a track; others demand a five-hour walk over a bealach to reach. That remoteness is the whole point, but it also means you are entirely responsible for your own comfort and safety. Weather in the Highlands can turn a straightforward approach into a serious undertaking, and a bothy that feels charming in June can be a genuine test of nerve in a January storm.
Treat the bothy as a bothy, not a hotel. You are there to sleep, eat, dry out and enjoy the company of whoever else turns up. Most people you meet will be hillwalkers, deer stalkers, photographers or anglers, and the shared fire is one of the great pleasures of the whole business.
Choosing a Bothy That Suits the Season
Think about the walk in first, then the shelter. A low-level bothy such as Peanmeanach or Glencoul gives you a gentler introduction, with coastal views and easier navigation. For a proper sense of distance, look at places like Shenavall in the Fisherfield Forest, Ben Alder Cottage beside Loch Ericht, or Maol Bhuidhe in Knoydart — all require real effort and reward it generously.
- Summer: midges, long daylight, busy bothies. Go midweek if you want space.
- Autumn: the best balance — stags roaring, golden light, fewer people.
- Winter: short days, deep snow, avalanche risk. Only for the experienced.
- Spring: snow on the tops, hidden bog underfoot, glorious light late into the evening.
Check maintenance notices before you commit. Bothies occasionally close for repairs, and a stove or roof may be out of action for months. Never assume a bothy is open simply because it appears on a map.
Kit That Earns Its Place
Pack for the bothy as a separate exercise from packing for the walk. Assume it will be cold, damp and dark, and that you may arrive soaked.
- Sleeping bag rated well below the forecast low; bothies hold the cold.
- Roll mat — sleeping platforms are unforgiving wooden boards.
- Head torch plus spare batteries; candle lanterns are banned in many bothies because of fire risk.
- Stove and fuel — never rely on the fire being usable or the wood being dry.
- Water filter or purification tablets for burn water.
- Fuel for the fire if you can carry it — dry logs, peat or smokeless briquettes.
- Rubbish bags — everything you carry in goes out with you.
A small foam sit mat, a towel and a dry set of clothes for the evening transform the experience. So does a decent map and compass: GPS units fail, phones die in the cold, and paths vanish under snow.
Light, Wildlife and the Photographer's Timing
Bothies are extraordinary places to make photographs. The best light arrives in the hour after sunrise and the hour before sunset, when low sun rakes across glens and picks out the texture of crags and old stone. In autumn, the stags' roaring carries for kilometres at dawn — stand still, keep downwind, and you may catch a stag silhouetted against mist.
Wildlife is best approached slowly and quietly. Red deer, mountain hares, ptarmigan, golden eagles, pine martens and otters all live in these glens. A long lens helps, but so does patience and a bothy window used as a hide. Never feed animals, never chase a photograph, and give deer a wide berth during the rut and in late winter when they are weakened.
- Blue hour around a loch gives glassy reflections and deep colour.
- Rain and mist create layered hills; a polarising filter cuts glare on wet rock.
- Night skies in remote glens are exceptionally dark — a tripod and a wide lens reward the effort.
Etiquette, Notices and Leaving No Trace
Bothies are maintained by volunteers and funded by goodwill. Follow the notices on the wall, respect any closures for stalking, and keep the place clean. Dig a proper latrine well away from water, bury it, and carry out everything else. Never cut live trees or strip a building for firewood.
If the bothy is full, share the space politely or pitch a tent outside. Keep noise to a minimum after dark, and leave the bothy better than you found it — a bundle of dry kindling and a swept floor are the traditional thank-you.
The Walk In, and the Walk Out
Tell someone your route and your expected return. Leave a note in the bothy book with your plans and timings, and check it on the way in for recent information about river crossings or broken bridges. Rivers rise fast after rain; if a crossing looks marginal, turn back.
Walk out early enough to have daylight in reserve, and take the first twenty minutes slowly to warm up tired legs. The best bothy nights end with a quiet, unhurried walk back to the road, the light improving with every step and the whole glen to yourself.
