lots of newcomers visit and Duke of Edinburgh groups stop for lunch, to the hard-to-reach ones where the entries are more sombre affairs full of advice and plans for the days ahead.
In each of the following chapters you’ll find my own bothy-book entry – a personal account of a memorable experience at that particular place.
Make sure, whenever you visit a bothy, you fill the bothy book in and become part of the wonderful legacy.
Enjoying a coffee in Ruigh Aiteachain bothy, East Highlands
Traditions
Apart from writing in the bothy book – which should be mandatory (consider taking a pen in case there isn’t one or it’s run out) – many walkers often share whisky from a Sigg bottle, which I’ve done on more than one occasion. But if you don’t fancy that, your tradition could be being kind to any other users who come along. And while we’re talking new traditions, the best approach you can take at a bothy – whether you’re staying for a couple of minutes to look around, half an hour for a lunch break, or one or two nights – is always to leave it in a better state than when you arrived. Because if we all did that, we’d always find every bothy in a clean and well-maintained state.
How you can help
Bothies are maintained by volunteers, who can’t always get out to them as often as they’d like. That means you can be their eyes and ears on the ground. Once you’ve visited a bothy contact the MBA via the website (www.mountainbothies.org.uk, ’Make a Report’ section) and let them know if vital work needs doing. If something’s missing – such as a shovel – tell them. If someone’s tried to burn a chair – tell them. Or even if everything seems in order just tell them – it’s nice for them to know.
Common things that go wrong with bothies are roofs, windows, doors and floors. So on your next visit take a look around. Are there tiles missing on the roof? Is water dripping inside when it rains? Are all the windows intact? Is the door still on the stove? Is the floor OK – no holes or soft spots underfoot? Do any of the walls, ceilings or floors have visible cracks? Is the front door closing properly and staying closed?
If you notice anything tell the MBA so that they can sort it before things get worse – a minor problem can easily develop into a major expense if not addressed.
Saws, often supplied at the bothy, are useful for cutting dead wood for the bothy fire
Then, perhaps consider joining one of the regular work parties held throughout the year all over the bothy network. You can help restore one of your favourite shelters, meet other bothy-goers and get to spend a weekend in one of the best spots in Britain.
SCOTLAND
Looking out to the Rubha Hunish, the northernmost point on the Isle of Skye, en route to The Lookout
DUMFRIES AND GALLOWAY
Tunskeen
The very first MBA bothy, situated in the wilds of the Galloway Forest
Tunskeen was the first bothy to be placed under the care of the MBA
I often wonder if, when the idea to begin renovating and protecting old dilapidated buildings in deepest, wildest Scotland was first suggested, anyone thought that it would have grown to the extent it has 50 years later. Thanks to that notion – which must have been looked upon as completely crazy back then – we now have shelters not just spread over Britain’s northernmost country, but in England and Wales too.
It all started here...with Tunskeen. The very first Mountain Bothies Association (MBA) project, this building was taken on in 1965 and, courtesy of the small group that started this work, it is still open today for walkers like you and me to enjoy. The original MBA idea was to ’maintain simple shelters in remote country for the use and benefit of all who love wild and lonely places’ – and it doesn’t come much lonelier and wilder than the Galloway Forest, in which Tunskeen sits.
Music echoed from the stones. It was an almost alien sound to my ears, so unexpected in a place that seems so far from electricity and mod cons. But here it was.
Tunskeen was a start point for me and a friend called Matt. We were there to attempt a crossing of the range of peaks that make up The Awful Hand. We arrived by taxi, to make the crossing easier and, as it was mid-week in September, expected to have it to ourselves, to be able to luxuriate in our own separate sleeping platforms rather than being cramped in, and to enjoy the night sky in this quiet and lonely place. But it was not to be.
When we opened the door to discover the source of the music a single man was sat on the chair. This close the radio sounded tinny and raw, bouncing off the walls in the darkened room; it was like standing in a kitchen and banging pots and pans together.
He didn’t smile at first, only stared; I guess we’d ruined his plans as much as he’d ruined ours. But after making introductions, offering him a coffee and sawing up some wood for the fire he’d started, he seemed to warm to us.
It turned out he worked with a lot of troubled youths, and the more he talked, the more it became apparent that he’d come to the bothy to escape the dramas, to just ’be’ without reference to the people who rely on him to offload their problems. Perhaps, I mused as he switched off the radio, the silence and the thinking space had become a little too loud with his own thoughts and he’d needed some noise to make them stop. Or maybe it was that he just liked music.
The welcome white-washed walls of Tunskeen rise above the heather
Either way, soon the music was replaced by conversation as he and Matt talked well into the night. I squeezed my sleeping mat into a corner and snuggled down into its warmth, the sound of their conversation lulling me to sleep quicker than any song could. Their voices turned to snores as they too retired to bed, and soon the only music was the rhythm of the mouse’s feet, pit-patting on the floor as it hunted for comfort in this building. I smiled – it seemed everyone, man and beast, came to bothies in search of something. I just hope we all find it.
Thanks to the lack of light pollution in the area surrounding the forest, this less visited part of southern Scotland, away from the more famous Highlands further north, is officially designated as a Dark Sky Park – the first area in the UK to obtain this designation. Being so far from any towns, it’s a great place to watch the night sky. From the bothy doorstep you may see The Plough, from which you can identify the North Star and even, when the cloud stays away, the smear of white that is the Milky Way. In winter there have even been reports of walkers spotting the green and red dazzles of the aurora borealis, aka the Northern Lights.
By far the most famous landmark close to Tunskeen is The Merrick, a high but fairly rounded bump of a hill that most approach from the car park at Glen Trool. But start at this bothy and you can tackle it from the direction that few others bother to.
The
