Munro Bagging Etiquette: The Unwritten Rules of the Scottish Hills

Scotland's mountains don't come with a rulebook. There's no laminated sign at the base of Ben Nevis listing the dos and don'ts, no steward checking your manners at the car park gate. And yet, spend enough time on the hills and you'll notice that most seasoned walkers follow a remarkably consistent set of unwritten rules — a quiet code of conduct shaped by decades of shared experience, mutual respect, and the occasional hard lesson learned in a bog.

Whether you're just starting out on your Munro bagging journey or you've already ticked off a fair few summits, it's worth knowing these conventions. They exist not because hillwalkers are fussy, but because the Scottish mountains are a shared space — shared with other walkers, with farmers, with wildlife, and with the land itself. Getting the etiquette right means everyone has a better time, and the hills stay wild and beautiful for those who come after us.

The Art of the Hillwalker's Greeting

Let's start with the simplest and most endearing tradition of the Scottish hills: saying hello. On a Munro, you greet people. It doesn't matter if you're gasping for breath on a steep ascent or feeling thoroughly miserable in sideways rain — when you pass another walker, you acknowledge them. A nod, a "morning," a breathless "hello" through gritted teeth — any of these will do.

This isn't just politeness for the sake of it. In remote mountain terrain, knowing who else is on the hill can matter. If someone doesn't come back, a passing greeting might be the last confirmed sighting that helps mountain rescue narrow down a search area. But mostly, it's just a lovely thing. There's a quiet camaraderie in the hills that transcends age, background, and fitness level. A shared nod on the ridge of Buachaille Etive Mor says, "We're both out here doing this daft thing, and isn't it grand?"

At the summit, if there's a group already there, don't barge in for your photo. Wait your turn, offer to take a picture for them, and enjoy the moment. And if someone's having a quiet sandwich in contemplation, you don't need to narrate your entire route to them — unless they seem keen for a chat, of course.

Gates, Fences, and Leaving Things as You Found Them

This one is beautifully simple: if you open a gate, close it behind you. If you find a gate open, leave it open. Farmers leave gates in specific positions for a reason — usually to control where livestock can and can't go. Closing a gate that was deliberately left open can cause just as many problems as leaving one open that should be shut.

When climbing fences or stiles, take care not to damage them. A wobbly fence post might not seem like much to you, but it represents time and money for the farmer who relies on it. If there's a stile, use it. If there isn't, look for the lowest point with the sturdiest posts and cross carefully. Wire fences under tension can be surprisingly unforgiving to the unwary.

Parking: Don't Be That Person

Few things irritate rural communities more than inconsiderate parking. It's become a genuine problem at popular starting points, and it's one of the easiest etiquette issues to get right.

• Never block a farm gate. Even if it looks like it hasn't been used in years. Even if you'll "only be a few hours." That gate might need to be opened for livestock, machinery, or emergency access at any moment.
• Don't block single-track roads. If there's no obvious parking spot and the verges are soft, consider whether you should really be parking there at all. Getting your car towed off a boggy verge by a tractor is not the highland experience you're looking for.
• Use official car parks where they exist, and pay the fee if there is one. These are often maintained by local communities or trusts who put the money straight back into path maintenance and conservation.
• Avoid taking up two spaces by parking at an angle. On a busy weekend at a popular Munro, every space counts.

If you arrive and the car park is full, have a backup plan. There's always another Munro. Flexibility is a hillwalker's best friend.

Deer Stalking Season: Check Before You Walk

This is one that catches many newer hillwalkers off guard. Between August and October — and sometimes into November — deer stalking takes place across large parts of the Scottish Highlands. It's a legitimate and important part of land management, helping to control deer populations that would otherwise damage fragile habitats.

You have every legal right to walk through stalking land during this period, thanks to the Scottish Outdoor Access Code. But responsible access means being aware of what's happening and making reasonable efforts not to disrupt a stalk. A disturbed stalk can mean a wasted day for the stalking party and, more importantly, can scatter deer across roads or into areas where they cause damage.

What to do

1. Check the Heading for the Scottish Hills website (or the relevant estate's own site) before heading out during stalking season. Many estates post their stalking plans online.
2. Phone ahead. Estate contact numbers are widely available. A quick call the evening before can tell you which glens to avoid and which are clear.
3. Stick to well-established paths where possible, as stalking parties generally plan around popular routes.
4. If you encounter a stalking party, a friendly wave and a willingness to pause or adjust your route goes a long way. They'll appreciate the courtesy, and you might get some useful local knowledge in return.

Outside stalking season, estates are generally delighted to see walkers. Many depend on tourism as much as field sports, so the relationship is usually a cooperative one.

Leave No Trace: The Golden Rule

This is the big one, and it goes far beyond just not dropping litter — though that's obviously the starting point. If you carry something up, carry it back down. All of it. Including banana skins and orange peel, which take far longer to decompose than most people realise, especially at altitude.

Litter

Pack a bag for your rubbish, and if you spot litter left by others, consider picking that up too. It's not your responsibility, strictly speaking, but it's a good habit that makes a visible difference. The summit of Cairn Gorm doesn't need to look like the morning after a picnic.

Wild Camping

Wild camping is a cherished part of Scotland's access rights, but it comes with responsibilities. Camp on durable ground, away from buildings and roads. Use a stove rather than lighting fires — and if you do have a fire, keep it small, use dead wood only, and leave no trace of it when you go. Never camp in the same spot for more than two or three nights.

Human Waste

This is the topic nobody wants to discuss, but it needs discussing. If nature calls on the hill, move well away from any water source — at least 30 metres — and bury waste in a small hole at least 15 centimetres deep. Carry a trowel for this purpose. Used toilet paper should ideally be packed out in a sealed bag, though burying it in the hole is an acceptable minimum. Wet wipes should always be packed out. They do not biodegrade, despite what the packet might claim.

Near popular summits and well-used campsites, this is genuinely becoming a problem. Let's not be the generation that ruins wild camping for everyone.

Right to Roam: Freedom and Responsibility

Scotland's Land Reform Act of 2003 gives everyone the right to access most land and inland water for recreational purposes. It's one of the most progressive access laws in the world, and it's something to be proud of — and to protect.

But the right to roam comes with a responsibility to roam responsibly. The Scottish Outdoor Access Code sets out the principles: respect the interests of other people, care for the environment, and take responsibility for your own actions. In practice, this means:

• Don't walk through farmyards if there's an alternative route.
• Keep a reasonable distance from houses and gardens.
• Avoid damaging crops — walk around the edge of fields where possible.
• Be especially careful during lambing season (March to May), when disturbance can have serious consequences for livestock.

The right to roam is a privilege earned through generations of responsible use. Every time we exercise it well, we help ensure it endures.

Dogs on the Hills

Dogs are welcome on most Scottish hills, but they need to be under close control at all times. "Close control" means different things in different situations:

• Around livestock: Your dog must be on a short lead. No exceptions. Even the most placid, well-trained dog can cause panic among sheep, particularly during lambing season. A dog running loose among ewes with young lambs can cause miscarriages, injuries, and death. Farmers have the legal right to shoot dogs that are worrying livestock.
• Around deer: During stalking season, keep your dog on a lead to avoid disturbing deer. Even outside stalking season, a dog chasing deer causes unnecessary stress to the animals, particularly in winter when their energy reserves are low.
• Around ground-nesting birds: From April to July, many upland birds are nesting on open ground. A curious dog bounding through heather can destroy nests and drive parents away from eggs and chicks.

If your dog isn't reliable around livestock, keep it on a lead for the entire walk. There's no shame in it, and the local farming community will thank you.

Summit Cairns: Admire, Don't Add

The summit cairns on Scotland's Munros are often historic structures, some of them decades or even centuries old. They serve as navigation markers and as symbols of the summit itself. They don't need your help.

Resist the urge to build new cairns or add stones to existing ones. It might seem like a harmless bit of fun, but proliferating cairns can cause genuine navigation problems in poor visibility. When the clag comes down on Ben Lomond and you're relying on cairns to find your way off the summit plateau, the last thing you need is a dozen decorative stone piles leading you in every direction except the right one.

Similarly, don't dismantle cairns. Some of the smaller ones on ridges and in corries are placed deliberately to mark safe routes. Leave them as you find them.

Giving Way on Paths

On narrow mountain paths, there's a simple convention: walkers going uphill have the right of way. The logic is straightforward — maintaining momentum on an ascent is harder than pausing on a descent, and the person coming down generally has a better view of the path ahead and can find a safe spot to step aside.

That said, this is a guideline, not a law. If you're heading uphill and there's a convenient spot for you to pause, it's perfectly fine to wave the descending walker through. The spirit of the convention is about making life easier for everyone, not about asserting your rights on a mountainside. A bit of common sense and a friendly exchange goes further than rigid adherence to any rule.

Respecting Mountain Rescue

Scotland's mountain rescue teams are staffed entirely by volunteers. Let that sink in. The people who come out in the worst conditions to find you when things go wrong are doing it on their own time, for free, because they care about the hills and the people who walk them.

The best way to respect mountain rescue is to minimise the chances of needing them:

• Plan your route carefully and make sure it's within your abilities and experience.
• Check the weather forecast — and be willing to change your plans if it's not favourable.
• Carry appropriate equipment: map, compass, waterproofs, warm layers, food, water, head torch, and a fully charged phone.
• Tell someone where you're going and when you expect to be back.
• Know when to turn back. The mountain will still be there next weekend. Your ego will recover. Summits don't award extra points for stubbornness.

If you do need to call for help, dial 999 and ask for Police, then Mountain Rescue. Stay where you are if it's safe to do so, and keep your phone battery alive. And if you'd like to give something back, most teams accept donations — a few pounds after each successful day on the hills is a meaningful way to say thank you.

The Spirit of the Hills

None of these rules are complicated. Most of them boil down to a single principle: be considerate. Be considerate of other walkers, of the people who live and work in the mountains, of the wildlife, and of the land itself. The Scottish hills are a magnificent, fragile, shared resource. The etiquette that's evolved around them exists to keep them that way.

So next time you're lacing up your boots and heading for the hills, carry these unwritten rules alongside your waterproofs and your sandwiches. They weigh nothing, they cost nothing, and they make the mountains a better place for everyone.