World War society’s attitude to the outdoors and, more specifically, outdoor activities was changing too. Soldiers and their families looked to camping as a cheap holiday, and more and more people were discovering that walking was a therapeutic way to spend their increasing free time.
Some more intrepid walkers and mountaineers began to explore their own country’s wild corners, and as they did, those other than climbers stumbled upon these abandoned buildings. Giving them a convenient start point for a mountain ascent, walk or crag climb the following day, many began to stay the night in them – sometimes with and sometimes without the landowner’s consent. And thus the modern day bothy-er was born.
But an ill-maintained building can survive only so long, and soon many of these bothies crumbled into ruin. Some were adopted by climbing clubs that knew of their importance; others were lucky enough to have landowners who privately maintained them for outdoor enthusiasts and local shepherds. But many others were left abandoned. And so they would have remained were it not for one man, Bernard Heath. It was he who, back in 1965, got together with a group of friends to repair and restore the old farm building in Dumfries and Galloway now known as Tunskeen bothy. Later that year a group of like-minded bothy-lovers joined forces, and the Mountain Bothies Association we know and love was formed.
Toilets in or near bothies are a welcome addition – but should by no means be expected!
Membership grew (as did bothy projects), Maintenance Officers (MOs) were appointed in the 1970s, in 1975 the charity was officially registered, in 1991 Bernard and Betty Heath were honoured with a British Empire Medal for their work and in 2015 the MBA won the Queen’s Award for Voluntary Service.
Changes may have taken place over the years, with health and safety legislation being addressed, complaints procedures being established and company status being updated. But its purpose remains unchanged. Some 100 bothies, over 3000 members, regular work parties and 50 years later, the volunteer-run organisation is still working hard with landowners to preserve and restore ’open shelters for the use and enjoyment of all who love wild and lonely places’. And thank goodness they do.
The association’s founders once wrote that: ’Members’ only reward will be the knowledge that their efforts have helped save a bothy from ruin.’ And how many of us would want anything more?
Facilities to expect
Basically none. In fact, if you get four walls and a roof that doesn’t leak then you should count yourself lucky. In my experience it’s much better to go with low expectations and be pleasantly surprised, rather than to go expecting a Hilton and find a low-rent shack.
Many bothies will, of course, have something more in them, ranging from the basic (chairs, tables) to the more upmarket (sleeping platforms, a stove, a river nearby) and the downright luxurious (toilet, water pipe just outside, reading material, bed frames).
Go prepared for the worst. Even if you’ve read something about a bothy in this book, remember that things change, break or are removed – so be prepared. Expect the walk to the nearest water source to be a trek and bring a bigger container to minimise your trips to collect it; assume the fire won’t work and bring an extra layer and a hat to sleep in; know that there won’t be any toilet paper so bring your own.
Follow this simple rule and you will avoid any disappointment.
Why bothy?
It’s a fair question, and one my friends and even family members frequently ask me. Aside from the obvious – that I love them, and once you get the bothy bug you can’t stop going to them (I swear it’s worse than being a Munro-bagger) – it’s really the same reason that you go wild camping, or even just walking. It’s to get away from everything and enjoy discovering the uncrowded and rugged corners of a beautiful country.
Of course, you can do exactly the same thing with a trusty bivvy bag or tent, so below is a list I’ve drawn up to show the pros and cons of staying in a bothy versus a tent. I’ll leave it to you to decide the best...
Bothy pros
Warmth You can have a fire and get warm.
Space Rather than being stuck in a cramped crouch of a tent, trying to get undressed without touching the sides of your condensation-drenched walls, you have the luxury of space to manoeuvre, stretch – even dance if the mood takes you.
Drying out Got caught out in the rain? At a bothy you can dry your clothes out above a fire or spread your belongings out on a table and let them dry.
Escaping midges Bothies are usually home to spiders, and spiders mean fewer midges, so you can cook and eat your evening meal without getting bitten.
People You may meet people with a similar love of the outdoors.
Inside information Fellow visitors may share the location of other bothies or wild camp spots for you to discover.
Bothy cons
Mice A mainstay of nearly every bothy, you are guaranteed to hear at least one at some point in your bothying experiences – make sure you pack your food away before you go to sleep.
People Although a few like-minded souls can be good, too many can be frustrating – staying up too late, being loud, not understanding the boundaries of personal space, snoring.
Poop Where there’s lots of people there can sometimes be a toilet issue; put a foot wrong and the consequences could be dire.
Conclusion: Do use bothies, but take a tent or bivvy bag as a back-up – that way the choice is yours...
Finding a bothy
If you’re serious, the first thing you should do is join the MBA. At the time of writing, membership is a tiny £20 per year, with a reduced rate of £10 to under 16s, over 60s and the unemployed (see www.mountainbothies.org.uk for current prices). The money you give goes straight into the pot to pay for maintenance work – so you can stay at your next bothy and know that your contribution made a difference. You’ll get a members’ handbook, a regular newsletter and the annual report.
Skirting the reservoir en route to Arenig Fawr bothy, Snowdonia
This book is a good first step to finding a bothy, but before you head out get a good map – Ordnance Survey or Harvey Maps (if available). Using the grid reference find your bothy and then plot the best route there for you, based on your experience.
Then, pack the proper kit (see ’What to take’, below) and get out there and find it. I’ll warn you – some are easy to find, whereas others are more difficult. Many bothy-lovers will (or at least soon will) know the pain of wandering around tired after a long walk-in, mere metres from the spot where the bothy should be, in horrendous weather, mistaking boulder after boulder as the promised bothy (I’m looking at you, Hutchison Memorial Hut – if you come from the Linn of Dee approach). But the more you visit, the more confident you’ll get, and you might even find bothies not under the care of the MBA...
MBA or not?
Not all bothies that exist do so under the umbrella of the MBA. Look at an OS map, in any of the wilder areas of Scotland, Wales and England, away from towns and cities, and you will see a number of tiny shelters marked on it. Of course that doesn’t mean that a) it’s actually a bothy or, perhaps more importantly, that b) it’s even there at all. Time is harsh to buildings in wild places. Wind, rain, ice and snow will eventually take their toll, and many a would-be bothy has been destroyed over the years completely unintentionally, because a landowner cannot afford to maintain a building that has no real purpose for them.
On the other hand, I’ve often stumbled upon a bothy belonging to a landowner, and equally as often it has been kept beautifully