‘I came to the Highlands to give something back to the hills’: a volunteering trip in Scotland

My journey to Wester Ross hadn’t been motivated by the usual tourist pursuits. I hadn’t packed a bucket and spade for a leisurely beach break at the nearby, breathtakingly gorgeous Achmelvich or Clachtoll. Instead, I arrived with a different notion: to give something tangible back to these ancient, majestic hills. The Outdoor Access Trust for Scotland (OATS) stands as a vital steward for many of the Highlands’ most celebrated mountains, tirelessly engaged in the development, construction, and repair of essential paths and delicate habitats. I had joined a diverse group of volunteers for a two-day stint on Stac Pollaidh, widely recognised as the north-west Highlands’ most visited peak. The prospect of a free stay at the welcoming Ullapool youth hostel, the promise of a hearty, home-cooked communal meal, and an encouraging midge-free weather forecast had propelled me north from Edinburgh the previous night, my mood buoyantly optimistic, filled with anticipation for a different kind of Highland adventure.

OATS’s core mission is to champion and facilitate sustainable public access to Scotland’s wild spaces. In contemporary conservation, a significant portion of this vital work is accomplished through voluntourism – a growing global trend that marries travel with voluntary work for environmental or social causes. Volunteers are mobilised to undertake arduous but rewarding tasks: lifting heavy materials, meticulously resurfacing eroded pathways, and filling in damaged sections. This collective effort yields landscape-scale results, transforming vulnerable trails into resilient arteries for outdoor enthusiasts. Iconic, yet often traffic-heavy, mountains such as the formidable An Teallach, the majestic Lochnagar, and the imposing Braeriach are annual priorities for OATS, alongside a throng of picturesque glens and sprawling estates stretching from the mystical Isle of Skye to the dramatic Cairngorms National Park. The impact of climate change is ever-present; this summer’s devastating wildfires, for instance, necessitated the relocation or postponement of some planned events in the northern Cairngorms. OATS’s dedicated volunteers even regularly brave the Lairig Ghru, arguably Britain’s most unforgiving mountain pass, a testament to their unwavering commitment.

While the description might conjure images of relentless, hard graft, the experience transcends mere toil. Volunteers gain invaluable practical skills in mountain path construction and maintenance, deepening their understanding of path design principles and the complex causes of erosion. This erosion, a persistent threat to fragile mountain ecosystems, is primarily a combination of increasing human misuse – such as path widening and shortcuts – and the escalating intensity of extreme weather conditions brought about by climate change. All this learning and labour unfolds against the backdrop of some of the world’s most extraordinary, panoramic views. No prior experience in path work is required, making it accessible to a wide range of individuals. However, volunteers must possess a demonstrable comfort with spending extended periods outdoors, exhibit good physical fitness commensurate with the demands of manual labour, and be capable of safely using hand tools under supervision.

Our first morning commenced from Stac Pollaidh’s newly expanded car park, a facility transformed by OATS just two years prior to accommodate a fourfold increase in vehicles. This expansion underscores the mountain’s burgeoning popularity, largely fuelled by its accessibility from the North Coast 500 (NC500), Scotland’s iconic coastal touring route, which hurtles past just five miles east, connecting Kylesku to Ullapool at the end of the road. Despite their varied backgrounds, every volunteer arrived with a shared motivation: a desire to contribute. As we ascended the open moorland, the surrounding sea of Assynt’s lochans – countless small, glittering freshwater bodies – sparkled under the morning sun, reflecting the vastness of the sky. Stac Pollaidh’s northern summit, with its distinctive porcupine-like ridge, appeared even more welcoming, silhouetted against a sky as impossibly blue as a newborn’s eye, a true Highland spectacle.

From the rugged slopes just below the hilltop down to the protective embrace of the lower forest’s edge, our team meticulously worked the path. Our tasks were varied and essential: unclogging vital drainage ditches, carefully removing invasive grasses that threatened native flora, dredging accumulated silt, stabilising loose soil, diligently repacking stone drains, and replanting edges with local vegetation to bind the soil. All the while, the mountain pulsed with life. Trail runners, accompanied by their eager dogs, and hikers from across Europe gracefully wove their way up the slopes, many pausing to inquire about our work, their curiosity piqued by our concerted efforts. A lively French school group trooped past, their faces playfully plastered with blue Braveheart war paint, adding a touch of unexpected theatricality to the remote landscape. A thoughtful Dutch couple stopped to offer us biscuits, a small gesture of camaraderie that underscored the universal appeal of these wild spaces. Everyone, without exception, seemed captivated by the stunning, ever-present views of the majestic Suilven to the north, its distinctive outline a constant companion.

Our group of seven volunteers was a microcosm of society: two adventurous New Zealanders seeking unique travel experiences; three insightful retirees – one from Inverness, one from Stirling, and another from Forfar – bringing a wealth of life experience; and an Edinburgh IT worker, leveraging his annual corporate volunteer days for a profoundly different kind of screen time. The appreciative smiles and encouraging words from passing hikers were a welcome affirmation of our collective endeavour, reinforcing the sense of shared purpose and community.

To a newcomer, the intricate network of mountain paths crisscrossing the Scottish Highlands might appear to be an immutable feature, as if they have always existed, an inherent part of the landscape’s very DNA. However, as Eva Kupska, OATS’s passionate volunteer coordinator, eloquently explained, these paths are “always evolving and always at risk from erosion, because of the influences of nature and man… and it is our job to conserve them.” This statement encapsulates the delicate balance between human enjoyment and environmental preservation that OATS strives to maintain. The Highlands, with their unique geology – from the ancient Lewisian gneiss to the younger Torridonian sandstone – and extensive peatlands, are particularly vulnerable. Peat bogs, vital carbon sinks, are easily damaged by erosion, releasing stored carbon into the atmosphere and contributing to climate change, creating a vicious cycle.

Every volunteer, Kupska stressed, is absolutely vital to OATS’s continued success. The post-Brexit landscape has seen a significant shift in funding, with a drastic reduction in access to former EU funding streams, such as the LEADER programme and various LIFE projects, which previously supported environmental and rural development initiatives. This has left a considerable void, intensifying the urgent need for a dedicated public fund for path maintenance and habitat restoration. The charity, Kupska lamented, simply does not possess the inherent manpower or financial resources to tackle the accelerating deterioration of pathways or undertake large-scale native tree planting initiatives alone. To further complicate matters, many of Scotland’s most popular and heavily trafficked mountain paths traverse privately owned land, making them ineligible for certain public funding opportunities, and placing a disproportionate burden on charitable organisations like OATS.

Despite these significant challenges, OATS remains steadfast in its mission. A further 12 one-day events, alongside several three- and five-day maintenance and conservation trips, are scheduled to take place this year, including dedicated tree-planting initiatives aimed at rewilding and restoring native woodland. These events are designed to be more than just work; they are joyful, shared experiences. That first afternoon on Stac Pollaidh, flasks of hot tea were unscrewed with a satisfying hiss, and slices of homemade fruit loaf were passed around, a simple but profound act of communal sharing. The air was thick with the warm, sweet smell of flowering heather, interspersed with the earthy, rich tang of the bogs, a powerful olfactory reminder of our immersion in the wild. This sensory tapestry, combined with the deep satisfaction of time purposefully spent in nature, created an unforgettable experience.

That evening, back in Ullapool, the charming harbour village was abuzz with activity. Tourists savoured traditional fish suppers, gulls wheeled and cried above the working trawlers, and a gentle maritime bustle filled the air. In the sea-view kitchen of Ullapool youth hostel, our diverse group of volunteers gathered, sharing life stories, anecdotes from our day on the mountain, and the camaraderie forged through shared physical exertion. While Ullapool boasts plenty of excellent dinner options, from the renowned Seafood Shack to the acclaimed Dipping Lugger, we opted for the simple, profound pleasure of each other’s company (which proved delightful), accompanied by local beers (a necessary refreshment), and a giant, gurgling stockpot of Eva’s delicious courgette and tomato risotto (which was terrific). And boy, did I sleep well that night, the deep, restorative slumber of honest labour.

The next day dawned with a gossamer mist clinging to the hills of Wester Ross, a soft, ethereal veil. We arrived earlier, eager to pick up precisely where we had left off, and largely, we never complained as the sun slowly, patiently cracked through the clouds, burning off the mist to reveal the familiar, stunning vistas. But perhaps the most rewarding aspect was witnessing our collective progress as we meticulously worked our way down the mountain, step by careful step. We remained ever-vigilant, always avoiding the fragile vegetation at the path’s edges, deliberately creating something better, more resilient, and ultimately more sustainable for tomorrow’s generations of hikers. It was more than just a staycation; it was a staycation with a profound purpose, and the feeling of contributing to the preservation of such an extraordinary landscape was undeniably good.

The trip was generously provided by the Outdoor Access Trust for Scotland, with additional support from VisitScotland. For those inspired to contribute to the preservation of Scotland’s magnificent wild spaces, information on how to register as a volunteer and sign up for upcoming events on the annual path maintenance days programme can be found on OATS’s dedicated volunteering portal. These invaluable opportunities often include overnight accommodation in a youth hostel or a traditional bothy, along with evening meals and convenient transport to and from the restoration site, ensuring that the focus remains on the vital work and the unparalleled experience of giving back to nature.