I hadn’t planned to enjoy any of this. As the golden summer light, characteristic of the long Scottish days, began to soften the jagged, formidable silhouette of Stac Pollaidh – a peak whose name, derived from Old Norse, hints at its distinctive "stack" shape and the nearby loch – I found myself immersed in an activity far removed from the typical tourist’s quest for scenic beauty. The mountain’s summit, often described as a series of bared teeth against the sky, presided over views that stretched across the surreal, almost lunar emptiness of Assynt, a landscape sculpted by ancient geology and millennia of ice. Yet, my focus was not on the panoramic grandeur. Instead, I was ankle-deep in the saturated, peat-rich expanse of a blanket bog, my back bent in an unglamorous posture, hacking diligently at the tough, resilient terrain with a heavy-duty mattock. The rhythmic thud of the tool against earth and stone punctuated the otherwise serene highland air. Farther up the hillside, another figure, similarly hunched and absorbed, was carving a deep, brown scar into the moor grass, a testament to the collective effort underway. I paused, taking a moment to survey my own contribution. At my feet lay a newly revitalized cross drain, which I had meticulously unblocked and repacked with carefully selected stonework. This vital intervention was designed to prevent the destructive effects of storm damage and to facilitate efficient runoff from the path, protecting both the trail and the fragile ecosystem around it. As I watched, a gentle burble began to trickle, slow yet clear, across the sparkling bedrock, a nascent stream finding its natural course. In that moment, observing the immediate, tangible impact of my labour, a profound sense of satisfaction washed over me, a feeling akin to appreciating a masterwork in a museum – only this masterpiece was one I had helped to create, a living, breathing part of the wild. My journey to Wester Ross hadn’t been motivated by the usual holiday desires. I had packed a bucket and spade, but not for a leisurely beach break at the particularly gorgeous, shell-sand coves of Achmelvich or Clachtoll nearby, renowned for their turquoise waters and stunning coastal scenery. My intention was far more purposeful: to give something back to these majestic hills that draw so many. The Outdoor Access Trust for Scotland (OATS), a charitable organization dedicated to preserving and enhancing Scotland’s wild places, acts as a crucial steward for many of the Highlands’ most famous mountains. Their mission encompasses developing, building, and repairing vital paths and restoring delicate habitats. I had joined a group of like-minded volunteers for a two-day stint on Stac Pollaidh, widely considered the North-West Highlands’ most visited peak due to its distinctive shape and relatively accessible summit. The prospect was sweetened by a complimentary stay at the welcoming Ullapool youth hostel and the promise of a home-cooked communal meal each evening. Crucially, an acceptable, midge-free forecast for the region – a significant factor in any Scottish outdoor adventure – sealed the deal. Buoyed by this blend of purpose and practicality, I had driven north from Edinburgh the night before, traversing the changing landscapes from the urban sprawl to the increasingly dramatic, sparsely populated wilderness, arriving in a mood of buoyant anticipation. OATS’s core purpose is to promote sustainable public access across Scotland’s wild landscapes, a mission that has become increasingly critical in an era of burgeoning tourism and climate change. These days, a significant portion of their vital work is achieved through "voluntourism," a growing global trend where individuals combine travel with meaningful volunteer work. Helpers are set to work on a variety of tasks, including lifting and placing heavy stones for path foundations, resurfacing worn sections with aggregate, and filling in eroded areas, all contributing to landscape-scale results that are both aesthetically pleasing and ecologically sound. The sheer scale of their undertaking is impressive; iconic, if traffic-heavy, mountains such as the formidable An Teallach, the royal peak of Lochnagar, and the mighty Braeriach in the Cairngorms are annual priorities. Their efforts also extend across a throng of glens and estates, from the dramatic Isle of Skye in the west to the vast, ancient Cairngorms National Park in the east. The delicate balance between encouraging public enjoyment and mitigating environmental impact is at the heart of OATS’s strategy. This past summer, for instance, saw devastating fires sweep through parts of the north Cairngorms, a stark reminder of the escalating threats posed by climate change. Consequently, some planned events in these affected areas have had to be changed to different locations or postponed entirely, highlighting the dynamic and often unpredictable nature of conservation work. The trust’s dedicated volunteers even regularly tackle the Lairig Ghru, arguably Britain’s most unforgiving mountain pass, a 27-mile ancient drover’s route through the heart of the Cairngorms, known for its extreme weather and challenging terrain, requiring constant vigilance and maintenance to remain passable. While the description might conjure images of relentless, hard graft, the reality is far more rewarding. Volunteers gain a wealth of new practical skills, from the basics of stone pitching and drainage construction to advanced techniques in erosion control and habitat restoration. Beyond the physical labour, participants develop a deeper awareness of mountain path design and the complex causes of erosion. These causes are typically a synergistic combination of human misuse – such as widening paths by walking off-trail, creating desire lines, or using inappropriate footwear – and the increasing frequency and intensity of extreme weather conditions driven by climate change. Heavy rainfall events, rapid snowmelt, and freeze-thaw cycles all contribute to the degradation of trails, turning minor ruts into deep gulleys. All this learning and labour takes place amidst settings that offer truly extraordinary views, providing a constant, inspiring backdrop to the work. No prior experience in path maintenance is required, making the program accessible to a wide range of enthusiasts. However, volunteers must be comfortable spending extended periods outdoors, possess good physical fitness to handle the demanding terrain and tools, and be capable of safely using hand tools under supervision. OATS provides all necessary equipment and guidance, ensuring a safe and productive experience for everyone involved. We began that first morning from Stac Pollaidh’s car park, a facility that OATS had strategically transformed just two years prior to accommodate four times more vehicles. This expansion was a direct response to the mountain’s skyrocketing popularity, largely fuelled by its prominent position just five miles east of the North Coast 500 (NC500), Scotland’s iconic coastal touring route, which hurtles past from Kylesku to Ullapool. The NC500, while a boon for local economies, has brought unprecedented visitor numbers to many fragile areas, necessitating proactive infrastructure management like OATS’s work. Despite the diverse backgrounds of the volunteers gathered, everyone arrived with a shared motivation: a desire to contribute meaningfully to the preservation of this stunning environment. As we ascended the open moorland, the vast, intricate tapestry of Assynt’s surrounding sea of lochans – small, glistening lochs – sparkled under the morning sun, reflecting the immense sky. Stac Pollaidh’s distinctive summit, with its dramatic "porcupine ridge" of weathered rock formations, appeared even more welcoming, its rugged beauty softened by a sky as impossibly blue as a newborn’s eye. The air, crisp and fresh, carried the scent of heather and damp earth, a quintessential Highland sensory experience. From just below the hilltop’s craggy pinnacles down to the lower forest’s edge, our team diligently worked along the path. Our tasks were varied and vital: unclogging ditches choked with peat and debris to restore proper water flow, meticulously removing invasive grasses that threaten native flora, dredging accumulated sediment from drains, stabilising precarious sections of soil with carefully placed stones, repacking existing stone drains to enhance their longevity, and replanting edges with local vegetation to encourage natural recovery and blend the path seamlessly back into the landscape. As we toiled, the mountain itself seemed to come to life around us. Trail runners, their faces flushed with exertion, bounded up the slopes. Dog walkers ambled past, their canine companions sniffing curiously at our work. Hikers from across Europe, drawn by the allure of the Scottish wilderness, weaved their way along the trail, many stopping to inquire about our activities, genuinely interested in the purpose behind our labour. A boisterous French school group trooped past, their pupils playfully plastered with blue Braveheart face paint, adding a touch of unexpected cultural whimsy to the scene. A kind Dutch couple paused to offer us a packet of biscuits, a small but much-appreciated gesture of solidarity. And throughout it all, everyone, without exception, paused to swallow the stunning, uninterrupted views of Suilven to the north – a mountain famed for its unique, almost impossible-looking flat-topped profile, rising majestically from the surrounding moorland, a true icon of the Assynt landscape. Our diverse group of seven volunteers represented a microcosm of modern voluntourism. It included two adventurous New Zealanders, three retirees – one hailing from Inverness, another from Stirling, and a third from Forfar – bringing a wealth of life experience and quiet determination. An Edinburgh IT worker, utilising his annual corporate volunteer days, completed our number, demonstrating the growing trend of corporate social responsibility extending into environmental conservation. Despite our varied backgrounds and motivations, a strong sense of camaraderie quickly formed. We exchanged knowing glances and shared smiles, appreciating the shared purpose and the small acts of kindness from passing hikers, which reinforced the value of our work. The collective effort and the spectacular surroundings forged an immediate bond, transforming strangers into a cohesive team united by a common goal. To a newcomer, the Highlands’ extensive network of mountain paths might appear to have always been there, an immutable feature, as if part of the landscape’s very DNA. However, as Eva Kupska, OATS’s insightful volunteer coordinator, explained, this perception belies a complex reality. "These paths are always evolving and always at risk from erosion," she stated, her voice carrying a blend of passion and pragmatism. "This is due to the relentless influences of both nature – particularly the increasingly extreme weather patterns – and man, through unchecked visitor numbers and improper usage. It is our constant job to conserve them, to work with the landscape rather than against it." Eva elaborated on the constant battle: relentless Scottish rain washes away soil, freeze-thaw cycles prise apart stonework, and the sheer impact of thousands of boots compacts and degrades surfaces. Without continuous intervention, these vital arteries of access would quickly deteriorate, becoming unsafe and exacerbating environmental damage. Indeed, every volunteer is vital to OATS’s mission, especially in the current climate. Post-Brexit, with the significant loss of crucial EU funding streams that once supported many environmental initiatives, Eva conveyed the drastic and urgent need for a dedicated public fund for path maintenance and habitat restoration across Scotland. The charity, while resourceful and dedicated, simply doesn’t have the manpower or financial resources to tackle the accelerating rate of deteriorating pathways or to implement large-scale native tree planting programs alone. To further complicate matters, many of Scotland’s most popular mountain paths, including sections of globally recognized routes, are situated on privately owned land. While Scotland’s progressive access legislation grants the public the right to roam, it often places the burden of path maintenance and repair on charitable organizations like OATS, as these private landowners frequently have no access to public funding for such work. This structural challenge underscores the critical role of volunteer efforts and the urgent need for sustainable, long-term funding solutions. Despite these challenges, OATS maintains a robust schedule of opportunities for those wishing to contribute. There are a further 12 one-day events, alongside more immersive three- and five-day maintenance and conservation events scheduled to take place this year, including some dedicated tree-planting trips designed to aid rewilding efforts and enhance biodiversity. These are truly joyful shared experiences, fostering a sense of community and connection to nature. That first afternoon on Stac Pollaidh, as the sun began its slow descent, flasks of hot tea were unscrewed, their warmth a welcome comfort, and generous slices of homemade fruit loaf were passed around. The air was filled with the warm, honeyed smell of flowering heather, interspersed with the distinctive, earthy tang of the bogs, a primal scent of the wild. But perhaps most profound was the deep satisfaction of time well spent, a feeling of having made a tangible, positive difference in a place of immense natural beauty. That evening, back in the bustling town of Ullapool, the harbour was abuzz with activity. Tourists mingled, enjoying traditional fish suppers, their chatter echoing against the backdrop of gulls circling lazily above the trawlers, their day’s catch now safely landed. The air was thick with the salty scent of the sea and fried food, a vibrant contrast to the quiet solitude of the mountain. We gathered in the sea-view kitchen of Ullapool youth hostel, a hub of shared stories and camaraderie. It was a chance to unwind, swapping tales of the day’s triumphs and minor mishaps, forging deeper connections within our diverse group. While Ullapool boasts plenty of excellent dinner options, including the highly acclaimed Seafood Shack, known for its fresh, locally sourced catches, and The Dipping Lugger, offering a more refined dining experience, we collectively settled on a night of each other’s company (which proved to be delightful), local beers (a necessary refreshment after a day of physical exertion), and a giant, gurgling stockpot of Eva’s delicious courgette and tomato risotto (which was terrific). The simple pleasures of good food, good company, and the satisfaction of a hard day’s work culminated in a night of profoundly restful sleep, a deep, restorative slumber earned through honest effort in the wild. The next day brought a gossamer mist to the hills of Wester Ross, cloaking the peaks in an ethereal veil. Undeterred, we arrived earlier, keen to resume our work. As the sun slowly cracked through the persistent clouds, gradually burning off the mist to reveal the familiar, breathtaking vistas, we largely never complained. There was a quiet determination in our efforts, a shared understanding of the task at hand. But best of all was witnessing our collective progress as we meticulously worked our way down the mountain, step by step. With each stone carefully placed, each drain cleared, and each section of path restored, we could see the immediate and lasting impact of our efforts. We diligently avoided the fragile vegetation at the path’s edges, ensuring our work was not only effective but also minimally invasive. We were creating something better and more sustainable for tomorrow, a legacy for future generations of hikers and for the delicate ecosystem itself. This was more than just a staycation; it was a staycation with a profound purpose, a journey of giving back that resonated deeply, and it felt incredibly good. The trip was generously provided by the Outdoor Access Trust for Scotland, with additional support from VisitScotland, highlighting the collaborative efforts required for such vital conservation work. For those inspired to contribute to the preservation of Scotland’s magnificent landscapes, registering as a volunteer and signing up for events on the annual path maintenance days programme is straightforward. Visit OATS’s comprehensive volunteering portal to explore upcoming opportunities. Crucially, overnight accommodation, typically in a youth hostel or a traditional bothy, along with evening meals and transport to and from the restoration site, are all included, making these experiences accessible and incredibly rewarding for anyone willing to lend a hand. Post navigation Scotland Defies Global Tourism Headwinds, Thrives Amidst 2026’s Rocky Travel Landscape. ‘I came to the Highlands to give something back to the hills’: a volunteering trip in Scotland