Tim

Wild camping used to be an unspoken contract. A bivvy on the hill, discreet and temporary. Camp late, leave early, no trace but a patch of flattened grass. That was acceptable. More than that - it was part of the tradition of the hills. Now the contract has snapped. What we see instead is the festival model: roadside gatherings, Temu tents by the llyn, scorched peat, reels uploaded for the algorithm. The point is no longer to spend a night out, but to show you spent a night out. Colleagues in the outdoor world mutter about “education.” If only they knew not to light fires on the moor. If only they realised you had to take your mess home with you. But the issue isn’t ignorance. It’s indifference. The atomised individual of 2025 values visibility above duty. The hills are just a stage. And once the culture shifts, no code of conduct or glossy leaflet can drag it back. I’ve written for @scribehound_ctr on how this shift happened, and why the old ethic of quiet wild camping is worth defending. Link to my articles here (paywalled, but some of the best of British rural writing can be found on the other side): join.scribehound.com?ref=sha…