A Night on High Seat – Our Biggest Adventure Yet
What started as a spontaneous decision based on a promising weather window quickly turned into our most challenging and rewarding wild camping trip to date. With 18 miles walked and over 1600 metres of elevation gained, this wasn’t just a hike and a camp. It was a proper adventure.
The plan was simple: make the most of a clear spell in the weather, pack the essentials, and head up High Seat for a night under the stars. I’ve done a fair bit of wild camping, but this one tested both legs and lungs in a way I wasn’t quite expecting.
We set off under bright skies, the dogs bounding ahead through blooming heather and open moorland. The landscape was jaw dropping from the first few miles, but the terrain had other ideas. High Seat is notorious for its bog, and it didn’t disappoint. It was a constant game of zig zagging and rerouting to avoid sinking too deep. There were moments where I wondered if we’d find a dry enough pitch at all.
After a solid climb and a few false summits, we made it to the top tired but buzzing. That sense of arrival, with the whole world spread out below, is something a photo never quite captures. The dogs flopped into the heather while I set up the tent, boiled some water for a well earned brew, and watched the light shift across the fells.
Pitching wasn’t easy. The ground was saturated in many places, and I had to move around a fair bit before settling on a small, slightly raised patch that just about held its shape. It wasn’t perfect, but it did the job and once inside, warm and dry with the dogs curled up beside me, it felt like a little sanctuary.
As the sun dipped and the sky turned to gold, it really sank in: we were completely alone up there. No campsite lights, no car doors, no other tents, just silence and space. It’s moments like that where wild camping goes from being a hobby to a kind of therapy.
The next morning, after a quiet night with just the sound of the wind brushing the tent, we packed up and continued our loop. With tired legs and a heavy pack, we carried on for miles, navigating more bog, more climbs, and more wide open ridges. By the end of the day, we’d clocked up 18 miles and over 1600 metres of elevation. The dogs never stopped wagging, and somehow, neither did I.
Was it tough? Definitely. Was it worth it? Without a doubt. This trip was a reminder of why I love wild camping: the freedom, the connection to the landscape, and the deep satisfaction that comes from pushing yourself just a bit further than you thought you could.
Gear held up brilliantly, the dogs were absolute champions, and the views… well, they speak for themselves.
Here’s to many more nights like that, though maybe with slightly less bog next time.
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