There’s something about the Scottish landscape that makes me itch to sling a tent on my back and just go. Maybe it’s the endless glens, or the way the hills seem to fold over each other like a never-ending maze. Before my first trip, though, I wasn’t thinking about scenery – I was wondering if I was about to get moved on for pitching in the wrong place.
I remember my first night trying it, years back near Glen Coe. I’d walked for hours, found a little rise above a burn, and spent the whole evening convinced a ranger was going to tap my tent and tell me to pack up. Nobody did, of course. The only sound was the drizzle on the flysheet and a stag barking in the dark. That knot of worry is what puts a lot of people off wild camping in Scotland – but the truth is, here more than anywhere else in the UK, you actually have the right to do it.
Wild camping in Scotland is legal as of 2025 under the Land Reform (Scotland) Act 2003, provided you follow the Scottish Outdoor Access Code: pitch lightweight tents in small numbers, stay just a couple of nights, camp away from buildings and roads, and leave no trace. The main exception is in parts of Loch Lomond & The Trossachs National Park, where a permit is required between March and September.
That’s the short version, but the long one is much more useful. In this guide, we’ll cover the nuts and bolts of the law (so you know exactly where you stand), the best areas to aim for (and the ones to avoid in summer chaos), the kit that actually works in Scottish weather, and the little details – like ticks, midges and fire rules – that make or break a trip.
Think of this as your map through the fog: practical, detailed, and written by someone who’s had their fair share of wet socks and restless nights on the hill. By the end of this post, you’ll not only know the rules – you’ll know how to pick the right season, choose a discreet pitch, and enjoy Scotland’s wild spaces without stress.
Contents
- What ‘Wild Camping’ Means in Scotland
- The Legal Landscape: Rights, Responsibilities & the One Big Exception
- Scotland by Season: The Good, the Bad and the Biting
- What to Pack (and What to Leave Behind)
- How to Find a Discreet, Durable Pitch
- Cooking, Fires, and Leaving No Trace
- Toilets, Water & Hygiene (The Unsexy Stuff)
- Safety, Courtesy & Seasonal Land Use
- Where to Go: Different Flavours of Scotland
- Final Thoughts
- Frequently Asked Questions
What ‘Wild Camping’ Means in Scotland
When people talk about wild camping in Scotland, they don’t usually mean parking a motorhome on a lay-by or rolling up with a big family tent. What the law covers is actually something quite a bit different: lightweight camping, on foot, bike or by boat, in small groups, and usually just for a night or two.
Incidentally, the perfect style of camping if you’re planning a trip without a car.
The Land Reform (Scotland) Act 2003 gave everyone the right to cross most land and water for recreation, but it doesn’t stretch to vehicles. In practice, that means if you’re carrying your tent and pitching discreetly in the hills, you’re exercising a legal right. If you’re pulling off the road in a campervan, that’s a different set of rules altogether.
Another common misunderstanding is where those rights apply. They cover most unenclosed land (open hillside, moor, forest, and loch shores) but not everywhere. Gardens, farmyards, school grounds, golf courses, and sports pitches are all off-limits for obvious reasons. If it feels like someone’s home or work space, it probably is. A safe rule of thumb is to be out of sight of buildings and roads, unless you’ve asked permission of course.
It’s also worth mentioning that these rights are unique to Scotland. South of the border, things are very different – England and Wales only allow wild camping in a few specific places, like parts of Dartmoor or with the landowner’s permission. If you want the full breakdown, we’ve put together a separate guide to UK wild camping rules.
Finally, the Scottish Outdoor Access Code adds an unspoken truth: size and duration matter. A tiny two-person tent tucked into the landscape is viewed very differently to a large, noisy group pitching multiple tents by a loch. The Code’s guidance of “two or three nights in one spot, then move on” isn’t just about rules, it’s about impact. Camp light, camp small, and nobody bats an eyelid.
One of the reasons people rave about wild camping in Scotland is that it’s genuinely accessible. In most of the UK, you’re relying on landowner permission or sneaking a night and hoping nobody minds. In Scotland, the law is actually on your side – so long as you keep it small, discreet, and respectful. That makes it one of the few places where you can properly sling a pack, head into the hills, and know you’re not breaking the rules just by pitching a tent
The Legal Landscape: Rights, Responsibilities & the One Big Exception
So with the broad definition clear, let’s get into the fine print. Scotland’s open access is generous, but it isn’t a free-for-all. The rules for wild camping in Scotland are laid out in the Outdoor Access Code: pitch away from roads and buildings, keep your stay short, and leave nothing behind. Most of the country falls under those simple rules, but there is one major caveat you need to know about.
In Loch Lomond & The Trossachs National Park, seasonal byelaws have been in place since 2017. Between March and September, many of the loch shores and surrounding woodlands are part of ‘Camping Management Zones‘. To stay there, you need to buy a low-cost permit and camp only in designated areas. It’s not complicated (you book online, print or save the permit, and stick to the marked sites) but it does catch newcomers out. From October through February, the byelaws lift and the standard wild camping rules apply again.
Elsewhere, restrictions tend to be temporary or seasonal. During hot, dry weather the fire service may issue bans on open flames. In stalking season (July through October), deer estates publish daily access updates so walkers and campers can avoid high-risk ground. And in certain nature reserves or heritage sites, additional local rules sometimes apply. These aren’t there to spoil your fun – they’re about protecting fragile habitats and preventing accidents.
The takeaway is simple: Scotland gives you more freedom than almost anywhere else in the UK, but that freedom depends on everyone following the rules. A quick check of the park authority website, or glancing at the local noticeboard in a village car park is often all it takes to stay on the right side of those rules.
Scotland by Season: The Good, the Bad and the Biting
There’s a particular feeling that comes with wild camping in Scotland – the mix of space, silence, and self-sufficiency. You’re carrying everything you need, setting up where the land feels right, and waking up with nothing but wind, water, and the odd stag for company. It’s not about comfort or convenience; it’s about that reset button you can’t get in a campsite with cars and shower blocks nearby.
But getting the timing right can be the difference between a fantastic, memorable trip and a misery-fest. Scotland doesn’t just change with the seasons – it turns into a completely different place depending on when you go.
Spring (April to June) is often the sweet spot. The ground’s drying out after winter, there’s enough daylight to still be boiling pasta at nine o’clock, and you can usually cook without being eaten alive. Nights are chilly, sure, but that’s nothing a decent sleeping mat and bag can’t handle – see our guide to choosing the best camping mattress for a bad back if you’re spinally challenged like I am.
Summer (July and August) pulls in the crowds. Long days, warmer nights, and lighter packs all sound great, until you unzip the tent and meet a solid wall of midges. On still evenings in the glens, they arrive in swarms that can test even the hardiest camper’s patience. The trick is checking the Smidge midge forecast before you set off. A steady breeze keeps them away; dead calm turns your camp into a buffet. Bring repellent, a head net, and maybe the ability to laugh at yourself while you dance around waving a pan lid.
Autumn (September and October) is criminally underrated. The hills burn orange and red, the midges pack up for the year, and campsites are noticeably quieter. You do pay with wetter weather and shorter days, but the trade-off is worth it. There’s something unbeatable about crawling into a tent after a damp walk and watching the rain slide down the flysheet, knowing you’ve got the place almost to yourself.
Winter is another beast altogether. Snow everywhere, frozen lochs, and the kind of silence you don’t get at any other time. But this is not ‘first-time wild camping in Scotland’ territory. It’s dark by four, the temperatures bite, and mistakes carry more weight. If you’re curious, start small: one night close to the car or a bus stop, and always have an exit plan.
Ticks don’t care what month it is, but they’re busiest from spring through autumn. Long grass, bracken, deer country – all prime tick habitat. Check yourself at night, carry a tick tool, and wear socks over trousers if you’re stomping through undergrowth. Lyme disease isn’t common, but it’s not something you want to gamble on – NHS Inform has solid guidance on symptoms.
So when’s best? If you’re new to this, late spring or early autumn give you the best odds: fewer midges, plenty of daylight, and a friendlier welcome to Scotland’s wild side.
What to Pack (and What to Leave Behind)
Once you’ve picked your season, the next question is what to drag along. Scotland rewards those who pack light, but punishes anyone who skimps on the basics. The trick is hitting that sweet spot: enough kit to keep you safe and comfortable, not so much that you feel like you’re hauling bricks up a hill.
Shelter comes first. A small two or three-season tent is the obvious choice – just make sure it can take a bit of wind and rain, because you’ll get both. Some folks swear by a bivvy and tarp combo, which keeps weight down and makes you almost invisible in the landscape. Both setups work; the main thing is being able to get it up fast when the weather turns.
Sleeping is the next hurdle. Scottish ground is often cold, damp, or both, even in summer. A decent roll mat with a solid R-value and a warm bag are non-negotiable. A good pillow (or even just stuffing clothes in a drybag) can make the difference between a long night and a long good night.
Cooking’s simpler than you think. Forget disposable BBQs – they scar the ground and they’re banned in many places anyway. A small canister stove or alcohol burner is lighter, safer, and works in the wind if you shield it properly. Boil-in-the-bag meals, instant noodles, porridge – none of it’s glamorous, but it’s hot, fast, and filling. Bring enough fuel; there’s nothing more demoralising than cold pasta at midnight.
Water is easy to find but not always safe to drink. Lochs and burns are everywhere, but livestock and campers upstream mean you should filter, boil, or treat it. A lightweight filter bottle works well – you can fill up on the go without unpacking half your rucksack.
Navigation and light are the two things people forget. OS Maps offline, a compass, and a head torch with spare batteries will save you when your phone dies or the fog rolls in. Even if you’re only planning a short walk-in, weather in Scotland has a habit of turning a “wee detour” into a three-hour navigation exercise.
And a quick word on extras: don’t go mad. A chair, a second pair of jeans, a massive lantern – it all feels nice until you’re halfway up a boggy slope and questioning your life choices. If you’re unsure about what to leave out, our piece on Is Camping Expensive? covers what’s worth paying for and what you can safely skip.
Pack light but smart, and you’ll thank yourself when you’re not slogging under a deadweight pack. Next up, let’s talk about how to actually find a pitch in Scotland that’s discreet, durable, and doesn’t leave you tangled in bracken or waking up in a puddle.
How to Find a Discreet, Durable Pitch
Once you’ve got the kit sorted, the real question is where to throw it all down for the night. Scotland has no shortage of inviting spots, but not all of them make for a happy camp. A flat-looking patch can turn into a puddle by morning, and that sheltered hollow you thought was genius might just funnel the wind straight through your tent.
What the map can tell you
A paper map is worth its weight in gold when it comes to finding a pitch. Those thin brown lines aren’t just there to confuse you – they tell you where the land flattens out. Look for little shelves above the valley floor, or gentle spurs that poke out from a hillside. They often hide small, level patches you’d never spot driving past. Skip the obvious gullies or marshy-looking ground (if it looks like it could swallow a boot, it probably will). And if you’re anywhere near a road or a cottage window, keep moving – privacy works both ways.
Sizing up the ground in person
Don’t drop your pack the second you see grass. Stomp around first. Is it firm or does it squelch? Moss looks comfy but it’s basically a sponge. Look up – any dead branches hanging over you? And check the wind: that ‘epic view’ ridge will rattle your tent like a crisp packet. A bit of natural shelter makes all the difference when the weather turns.
Close to water, but not too close
It’s tempting to pitch right on the edge of a loch for that perfect sunrise. But honestly? Better to fetch your water and step back. It keeps the water clean, it stops you trampling the bank, and it saves you from waking up with waves licking your the porch of your tent after a night of heavy rain. Thirty metres is a good rough distance. Fill up before dark, brush your teeth well away from the shore, and you’ll barely leave a trace.
High ground, low ground, or somewhere in between
Sleeping on a summit sounds exciting until the wind kidnaps your tent or lightning rolls in. Camp too low and you’ll get fog and condensation dripping on your face by morning. The sweet spot is usually somewhere in the middle: a slightly raised patch with a rock or tree for shelter. You’ll sleep better, and your kit won’t be soaked by dawn. For the “what if” scenarios — like a storm rolling in – our camping in a thunderstorm safety guide is worth a look before you head out.
Cooking, Fires, and Leaving No Trace
Once you’ve nailed a decent pitch, the next thought is food and heat.
There’s nothing like a hot brew in the middle of nowhere, but how you cook (and what you leave behind) makes all the difference to both your comfort and the land you’re camping on.
Stoves come first
In Scotland, a small stove is your best mate. Gas canisters or alcohol burners are light, fast, and don’t scar the ground. Pick a flat spot out of the wind (a little rock wall works wonders) and never set one up inside the tent unless you fancy carbon monoxide poisoning. Keep meals simple: porridge, noodles, boil-in-the-bag curries, that sort of thing. They’re not glamorous, but they’re hot and easy to cook.
The truth about fires
Here’s the straight truth: Scotland’s not a great place for big campfires. A lot of the ground is peat, and if it catches, it can burn underground long after you’ve packed up and gone. You won’t even see it happening until someone finds a smoking hole weeks later. Fallen wood near popular spots is usually gone anyway, and hacking branches off live trees just makes you look like an idiot.
The Outdoor Access Code doesn’t ban fires outright, but it’s clear – you should only light one if you really know what you’re doing: small, short-lived, in a safe spot, and never on peat or close to trees. Most of the time, the safer option is just don’t bother. Your stove will boil water in minutes, and you won’t leave behind a charred patch that gives wild campers a bad name.
Dealing with rubbish
The big stuff’s obvious and most of us won’t think twice about packing it all up and taking it with us when we leave. But it’s the little scraps that give wild camping in Scotland a bad name. Foil from instant meals, the tear-off strip from a noodle packet, the waxy end of a cheese wrapper – all of it adds up. Make a habit of doing a ‘last sweep’ around your pitch: torch on, eyes scanning for glints of plastic or foil before you turn in. Carry a bag for rubbish and don’t be shy about picking up other people’s junk if you find it. It weighs nothing, and it keeps the place feeling wild for the next person.
Wild camping in Scotland only works because people keep it low-key and leave no trace. Do your cooking cleanly, skip the bonfires, and leave the ground looking exactly as it did when you arrived.
Toilets, Water & Hygiene (The Unsexy Stuff)
We’ll keep this brief, but nothing ruins a wild camping trip faster than finding someone else’s mess behind a rock. Hygiene is where wild camping either stays sustainable or turns into an eyesore that fuels complaints.
Going to the toilet
If you need to empty your bladder, wander at least 30 metres from any water source and let nature take care of it. For anything other than a wee, the rule is simple: dig a small hole, do your business, cover it properly, and move on. A lightweight trowel costs a couple of quid and weighs less than your stove, so there’s no excuse.
Dishwater and soap
Even the “biodegradable” stuff can mess with a stream, so keep your washing-up well away from water. Strain out food scraps (carry them out with your rubbish) and scatter the grey water across the ground rather than dumping it in one spot. A quick wipe with a bit of moss or a splash of boiled water does the job better than a sink full of suds.
Keeping yourself clean
You’re not going to stay spotless, and that’s fine. Wet wipes or a flannel rinse are usually enough. If you want to wash properly, do it a long way from water and use as little soap as possible. And don’t underestimate a fresh pair of socks – sometimes that’s all you need to feel human again.
It’s not glamorous, but getting this stuff right can be the difference between leaving a campsite as you found it or turning it into someone else’s problem.
Safety, Courtesy & Seasonal Land Use
You’ve sorted your camp, cooked your food, and dealt with the unglamorous stuff. Next up is how you fit into the bigger picture – sharing the hills with the weather, the locals, and the wildlife.
Weather turns on a dime
We’ve talked about the weather briefly already, but if Scotland had a motto, it’d be ‘wait five minutes’. Clear skies can fold into fog, and rivers that look like puddles can turn into torrents after a downpour. Always pack a layer more than you think you’ll need and don’t bank on your phone bailing you out – batteries die fast in the cold and wet. A map and compass aren’t nostalgia, they’re what keep you out of trouble when the mist rolls in.
Mind the animals
You’re a guest out here, and the locals aren’t just people – they’re red deer, grouse, sheep, and whatever else calls the area home. Give wildlife space. Don’t stomp through nesting areas, don’t chase deer for a photo, and keep the noise down so the hills stay as wild for the next person as they were for you.
If you’re bringing a dog, the same rules apply with more urgency. Sheep, cattle, and ground-nesting birds don’t take kindly to a loose dog nosing around. Keep them on a lead where there’s stock or sensitive wildlife, and everyone stays happy. If you’re planning trips with your four-legged mate, we’ve got a full guide to camping with dogs that covers food, kit, and keeping things safe for both of you.
Stalking season matters
Late summer into autumn, many estates run deer stalking. It’s their livelihood, and you don’t want to be the camper who pitches right in the firing line. The Heading for the Scottish Hills service posts daily info on where stalking is happening. Check it before you set out, adjust if you need to, and you’ll avoid awkward encounters.
Fire danger isn’t just theory
We’ve already talked stoves vs fires, but it’s worth underlining: in dry conditions, a single spark can set off a blaze that takes days to control. Scottish Fire and Rescue post alerts – if they’re telling you not to light up, don’t. Simple as that.
None of this is complicated. It’s just about being the kind of camper who leaves no mess, annoys no one, and doesn’t end up as a cautionary tale on the evening news. Do that, and Scotland will keep feeling like the best backyard in the world.
Next, let’s zoom out from the ‘how’ to the ‘where’ – different corners of the country and what they’re like for a night under canvas.
Where to Go: Different Flavours of Scotland
By now you know how to camp without trashing the place or getting yourself in bother. The next question is obvious: where should you actually pitch up? The beauty of Scotland is that each part of the country has its own character.
You could spend years wandering and still feel like you’ve barely scratched the surface.
Northwest Highlands & Assynt
If you want scenery that stop you in your tracks, this is the place. Peaks like Suilven rise out of the moors like something from another planet, lochs are scattered everywhere, and the coastline feels endless. It’s quieter than the tourist hot spots too, but that also means fewer facilities and longer walk-ins. Planning ahead pays off – Walkhighlands has detailed routes and maps. Bring a stove, as fires aren’t practical on peat and there’s rarely spare wood lying around.
The Cairngorms
The Cairngorm plateau is like nowhere else – high, rolling, and exposed. When the weather turns (and it often does), it can feel brutal, but down in the glens you’ve got pockets of ancient pine forest that are more suitable for camping. Fires are discouraged here, and for good reason – damage lasts for decades. If you’re not up for a long trek, there are easier overnight options near Rothiemurchus or Glenmore. Check NatureScot if you’re unsure about access or restrictions.
Islands and the West Coast
Skye, Mull, Harris, Lewis – take your pick. Think sea cliffs, machair grasslands, and beaches that feel like they’re at the edge of the world. The wind can be vicious, but this is actually a blessing in midge season. Getting there takes planning – CalMac ferries book up fast – but once you’re out on the dunes with the sound of the sea, it’s worth it.
Lochaber & Knoydart
Knoydart is often called Scotland’s “last wilderness” and it lives up to the name. You’ll need either a ferry or a long hike to reach it, but the reward is lochside pitches with mountains as a backdrop. Just make sure you’ve got yourself a decent pair of hiking boots! Loch Morar is another gem – remote, vast, and usually quiet. This isn’t a beginner’s playground: no signal, no facilities, and a long way from help if you get into trouble. But if you’ve built up some experience, it’s unforgettable.
The Southern Uplands
These rolling hills don’t have the Highland skyline, but they make up for it with dark skies, quiet trails, and easier access. The Galloway Forest Park is a Dark Sky Park, which means the stars are ridiculous on a clear night. It’s also a good place to practise if you’re new to wild camping in Scotland: closer to towns, shorter walk-ins, and gentler terrain.
Glen Coe & Rannoch Moor
Few places feel as ‘classic Scotland’ as Glen Coe. Jagged ridges, sweeping moorland, and a history you can sense even if you don’t know the details. It’s busy near the road, but wander a little further and you’ll find quieter corners. Rannoch Moor is bigger, boggier, and harsher, but on the right night it’s pure magic. A night here can work wonders for your head – it’s the kind of reset button we talk about in our post on camping and mental health.
Loch Lomond & The Trossachs
This is the one with the byelaws. Between March and September you’ll need a permit to camp in many areas, but outside of that it’s back to normal Scottish rules. Don’t let that put you off – it’s accessible, full of lochs, and a great option if you’re limited on time. The National Park’s website has all the details.
Wherever you end up, the same advice holds: walk a little further than the crowds, skip the obvious hot-spots, and keep things discreet. That’s where the best nights under canvas are waiting.
Final Thoughts
Wild camping in Scotland isn’t complicated, but it does take a bit of respect – for the weather, the land, and the people who call it home. Follow the Code, keep your camps light and discreet, and Scotland will open up in a way few other places can match.
If you’re just starting out, don’t overthink it. Pick a short trip (one or two nights somewhere easy to reach) and see how you get on. Learn how your kit handles the rain, how midges really feel in person, and what it’s like to wake up to the sound of nothing but water and wind. From there, you can push further.
The joy of wild camping in Scotland isn’t about ticking off bucket-list spots or chasing Instagram shots. It’s about the quiet evenings, the small challenges, and the way a night outdoors resets your head in a way nothing else quite does.
So if you’re planning your first attempt at wild camping in Scotland, check the Scottish Outdoor Access Code, plan your first overnight, and keep it simple. The hills aren’t going anywhere – and the more people camp responsibly, the more they’ll stay open for everyone.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is wild camping in Scotland legal in 2025?
Yes. Thanks to the Land Reform (Scotland) Act 2003, you can camp on most unenclosed land if you follow the Scottish Outdoor Access Code. Keep it light, small-scale, and move on after a couple of nights.
Do I need a permit to camp in Loch Lomond & The Trossachs?
Between March and September, yes. Certain lochside areas are ‘Camping Management Zones’ where you’ll need a low-cost permit. Outside of those months, the usual rules apply.
How many nights can I wild camp in one spot?
The Code suggests no more than two or three nights. It’s not a hard law, but moving on keeps the land healthy and avoids complaints.
What’s the best season for wild camping in Scotland?
Late spring (May/June) and early autumn (September) usually give the best balance – long days, fewer midges, and less chance of getting drenched every evening.
Are fires allowed while wild camping in Scotland?
Not usually a good idea. Peat can burn underground, woodland fires scar the ground, and in dry conditions they’re outright dangerous. Stick to a stove unless you really know what you’re doing.
What should I pack for a wild camp in the Highlands?
The basics: a weatherproof tent or tarp, warm sleeping gear, stove and fuel, map and compass, waterproofs, and a head torch. Keep it light but don’t skimp on the essentials.
Can I wild camp with a campervan in Scotland?
Not under the same rights. The access law doesn’t cover vehicles. Some car parks and Forestry & Land Scotland sites allow overnight stays (look up “Stay the Night”), but lay-bys and verges are often restricted.
What’s the safest way to get drinking water?
Burns and lochs are everywhere, but always filter, boil, or treat it. Livestock and campers upstream mean ‘straight from the stream’ isn’t as safe as it looks.
Where can beginners try wild camping in Scotland?
The Southern Uplands and lower-level lochsides are good starting points: gentler terrain, easier access, and fewer crowds.
Is it safe to go wild camping in Scotland alone?
Yes, if you prepare properly. Tell someone your plan, pack a map and compass, and choose an easy spot for your first solo trip. If you’re curious, we’ve put together a full guide to making solo camping fun – from safety tips to keeping yourself entertained once the sun goes down.
