Why remote camps demand a lighter touch

The further you walk, the longer your footprints last. In the uplands, damage happens slowly and heals even more slowly: a bootprint in wet peat can remain for years, a fire scar on a hillside may still be visible a decade later, and moss scraped from a boulder can take a generation to creep back. Remote overnight camps put you in exactly the places that are least able to cope with visitors — boggy col, high tarn shoreline, windswept ridge and fragile moorland.

Leave No Trace is not about being precious or restrictive. It is simply a set of habits that let you enjoy wild places while keeping them wild for the next person, and for the wildlife that depends on them. There are no bins out there, no rangers tidying up behind you and no easy way to undo a mistake. Everything you bring in, you carry out. Everything you do, you do with care.

Choose a durable surface for your tent

Where you pitch matters more than how you pitch. Aim for ground that is already hard-wearing and recovers quickly, and move on if the only flat spot is a carpet of rare moss or a cluster of tiny alpine plants.

• Good pitches: bare rock slabs, gravel and shingle, dry compacted earth, short established grass above the flood line, and well-used spots that already show signs of camping.
• Poor pitches: sphagnum moss, heather, lichen, cushion plants, the edges of streams and tarns, and any ground still recovering from a previous fire.
• Best practice: camp at least 60 metres from water where you can, so you do not trample banks or pollute the supply you are drinking from.

Do not dig drainage trenches, pull up stones or clear vegetation to make a level bed — the lie of the land is part of the deal. If you are staying two nights in one place, shift the tent a metre or so on the second night so you do not kill the same patch twice. On very fragile ground, consider a small tarp or bivvy instead, or simply walk on to somewhere tougher.

Keep fires contained — or bring a stove

A campfire feels like the heart of a night out, but in the British uplands it is the single most damaging thing most of us are tempted to do. Peat burns underground, smouldering quietly for days and leaving scars that will not heal in your lifetime. Deadwood and standing dead trees are habitat, not fuel, and a ring of blackened stones in a remote spot is litter by another name.

• Cook on a stove. It is faster, lighter, works in wind and rain, and leaves nothing behind.
• Check the rules before you go. Open fires are not permitted on most land in England and Wales without the landowner's permission, and Scottish access rights do not cover lighting fires.
• Never build a new fire ring in a wild place, and never ring a fire with stones from a stream or a drystone wall.
• If a fire is genuinely appropriate and allowed, use an existing hearth, keep it small, burn only small dead-and-down wood from well away, and never leave it while it is warm.
• Drown it with water, stir the ashes, and check with the back of your hand that it is cold to the touch before you sleep or walk away.

Pack out everything, including the invisible bits

Burying rubbish is not disposal; it is hiding. In thin upland soils, food scraps and paper simply sit there, frozen and preserved, until something digs them up. Assume you must carry out every last crumb.

• Tea bags, apple cores, orange peel, nut shells, pasta and rice all come home with you. None of it belongs on a hillside.
• Wet wipes, used loo roll, dental floss, plasters, cable ties and the odd broken guyline all go into the same bag.
• For going to the loo, dig a hole 15 to 20 centimetres deep, well away from water, paths and pitches, and carry the paper out in a sealed bag. In snow, on rock or in bog, carry everything out.
• Spit toothpaste into a bag rather than onto a bush, and never wash pots or yourself directly in a stream — rinse well away from the bank with water carried in a pan.

Before you leave, walk your pitch twice: once as you pack, and once in daylight after a final sweep with your eyes close to the ground. Tiny scraps of foil and shreds of plastic are almost invisible until you crouch down.

Tread lightly and leave what you find

Single out along existing paths rather than fanning out, and resist the tempting shortcut across a boggy corner. Those widening trods you see on popular hills are made by hundreds of small, reasonable-seeming choices. Never move rocks to build a cairn, stack stones or rearrange a summit. Leave flowers, fossils, antlers and interesting pebbles where they lie, and take only photographs.

Give wildlife room. Ground-nesting birds such as skylark, dunlin and dotterel are easily disturbed in spring and early summer, and a dog off the lead can clear a whole hillside in minutes. Keep dogs close and consider leaving them at home in sensitive seasons. Camp away from obvious nesting ground, and if an animal changes its behaviour because of you, you are too close.

Plan, share and carry your intentions home

Good planning prevents most impact. Keep groups small — four or fewer is a useful rule for fragile ground — and consider splitting into smaller parties on eroded or boggy terrain. Tell someone your route and expected return, carry the kit to cope with a change in weather, and you will be far less likely to need the emergency shortcuts that damage ground.

Finally, remember that access in the UK is a privilege maintained by conduct. Landowners, crofters and rangers judge all of us by the state of the last pitch they found. Leave your spot so that no one could tell you were there — that is the whole skill, and once learned it becomes second nature.