Two recent pieces on bothies has set me thinking about these basic shelters and just how important they are in the story of hillgoing. Mountaineer and mountain rescue expert
@HeavyWhalley has written an interesting piece
here. He mentions that there's a row going on about bothies online. I've managed to avoid this completely, which is a relief! I gather it's about how much bothies should be promoted and how much information should be available. Whatever the rights and wrongs of various opinions it's too late to go back to the days when it was harder to find out about bothies (though never that hard, you just had to join the Mountain Bothies Association, which I did well over thirty years ago). Heavy Whalley also reminisces about bothy days and nights and posts many pictures.
This is the time of year when bothies can be welcome. Bothy afficiando John D.Burns'
10 Tips for a Winter Bothy Visit is useful and entertaining, especially Tip 11! Bothies feature in all his books, one of them being titled
Bothy Tales.
A classic on bothies is Dave Brown and Ian R. Mitchell's
Mountains Days and Bothy Nights. Published in 1987 and with tales going back to the 1960s this is a fascinating book, well worth reading.
Here's some bothy stories of my own, taken from a piece written several years ago for The Great Outdoors.
My first introduction to bothies was during a Pennine Way walk
one April long ago. Coming off Cross Fell in dense wet mist I found little
Greg’s Hut and spent a warm night there after drying out damp gear in front of
a fire. Since then I have spent many nights in bothies and have grown to love
the individual quirks and designs of the many different buildings that have
been pressed into service as shelters for outdoors people. Bothies are
particularly welcome on winter trips, especially when the weather is stormy, as
spending long hours cooped up in a small tent can become wearisome. I was
reminded of this one February when I hiked the Southern Upland Way, a 13-day
trip on which the weather was mostly wet and windy. My second day was spent in
wind, rain and low cloud and by the time I reached the little wooden Beehive
bothy amongst the dripping trees in Galloway Forest Park I was very glad of its
shelter as I had a damp tent from the night before and the wet mist meant that
any camp would be very soggy indeed.
The next day the weather was worse,
starting out with drizzle and finishing with several hours of heavy rain. And
throughout I was in thick damp mist. Rather than camp I decided to press on to
the next bothy, White Laggan, which I reached long after dark, having been out
for 11 hours during which I sloshed some 42 kilometres. The bothy had a good
store of wood and a stove, so I was soon sitting in the warm cooking my late
supper feeling amazingly relieved just to be there. The next morning I stuck my
head outside just as the first light was creeping over the land. My journal
entry tells the story – “mist blasting past the bothy in wet waves. Very windy.
No visibility”. I was glad I hadn’t spent the night in my damp tent.
Bothies are also a place to meet other outdoors people and
share experiences. I have had many interesting conversations with walkers and
climbers over a hot brew and a bothy fire. Of course sometimes bothies can be
crowded – after an experience many years ago when fifteen of us crammed into
little Corrour bothy in the Cairngorms, which was really only big enough for
half that number, I have always carried a tent or tarp and been prepared to
camp out if a bothy is full. The only exception was when I planned a TGO
Challenge Route using bothies plus a few B&Bs the whole way across,
including one high level rickety wooden hut that was blown down by the wind a
few years later. On this trip I found another disadvantage of not carrying a
tent – you have to reach the bothy regardless of conditions. Overall it was a
difficult crossing – the hardest of the 16 Challenges I have done. There was
still deep snow on the hills and the weather was windy and frosty. An ice axe
was essential, and our route was changed a few times to deal with the
conditions (we were blown back from an attempt on Ben
Nevis). On reaching the Cairngorms we stayed in Ruigh Aiteachain
bothy in Glen Feshie before crossing the Moine Mhor to Corrour bothy. The going
was hard work due to the deep soft snow and it was late when we arrived on the
rim of Coire Odhar high above the bothy. However, the snow on the steep upper
slopes of the corrie was hard and icy and, having no crampons, we had to cut
steps with our ice axes, slowly zigzagging back and forth across the slope
until we reached easier ground. All the time we could see tents outside the
bothy so we had the added worry that it might be full. In fact, to our great
relief it was empty. If we’d had tents we’d have camped on the tops or found an
easier way down.
Another attraction of bothies is the bothy book where
visitors can record their thoughts, feelings and experiences. Here you can
learn about suggested routes in the area, weather conditions at different times
of year, problems with river crossings and see how many people use the bothy
and at what times of year. (There is one bothy in the Eastern Cairngorms – the
Shielin’ of Mark – that has a sudden spike in visitors in the middle of May
when TGO Challengers pass by and hardly any visitors at any other time.)
Bothies require maintenance if they are to remain safe and
watertight of course. A wonderful volunteer organisation, the Mountain Bothies
Association, does the work and deserves the support of everyone who ever uses a
bothy. I joined it after my stay in Greg’s Hut and have been a member ever
since. The MBA has an excellent website –
http://www.mountainbothies.org.uk
– where the Bothy Code – sensible guidelines for using bothies – can be found.
