Adventure Your Way

chris@adventureyourway.co.uk

Leave No Trace Bushcraft

Why Our Bushcraft Is Different

This isn’t bushcraft as entertainment, or survival as spectacle. It’s a terrain-led practice rooted in Leave No Trace principles. Every skill we teach is chosen with care, every action weighed against its impact. We don’t strip the woodland to teach a lesson—we listen to it, move through it, and leave it intact. What’s taught here is realistic, transferable and held in consequence. Leave No Trace bushcraft is simply bushcraft with ecological damage minimised. This principle shapes the detail of every activity we offer. Skills are taught with restraint, adapted to the terrain, and fully discussed on course. Participants understand not just how, but why.

 

Shelter building in traditional bushcraft often involves constructing debris shelters from woodland materials. In my view, and with some support from others, the potential damage to the ecosystem outweighs the learning gained. There are plenty of woods where den building is encouraged, and it doesn’t need an instructor to run it. Instead, we teach how to build shelters that actually work, using simple carried kit. These methods are realistic, transferable, and rooted in what you’d likely have or improvise in a genuine survival situation.

 

Fire is essential for heat, morale and cooking, but it shouldn’t leave a mark. Even a well-controlled fire on bare earth can cause unseen harm, especially to invertebrates and fungal networks. We use small wood stoves that are affordable, efficient and easy to carry. They burn cleaner and can be positioned to avoid ground heating. For the size of fire we typically need, they’re more than enough. With options under £30 and weights under 400g, there’s no reason not to.

Wood harvesting and tool use in traditional bushcraft often involves cutting green wood for carving, shelter or fire prep. In a Leave No Trace approach, we prioritise dead, downed wood and teach selective harvesting with ecological awareness. That means reading the terrain—what’s rotting, what’s habitat, what’s legacy—and making choices with consequence. Axe and saw use is purposeful, minimal and taught with reverence. Every cut matters.

 

Navigation and movement skills can sometimes ignore impact, especially when taught off-path. We teach terrain-led movement that honours existing paths, avoids erosion-prone areas and reads the land for signs of stress. Footprint awareness becomes part of the skillset. Where you walk matters.

 

Camp hygiene and waste management often leave traces—especially when it involves digging latrines or disposing of food waste on site. In our woodland, we don’t need to dig. We use pack-in, pack-out cartridge toilets that contain waste cleanly and leave no mark. The skills around cathole placement and hygiene are still taught, so participants understand the principles and can apply them in other settings. Even micro-traces matter. A clean camp becomes a ritual, not a chore.

Water sourcing and purification is taught with restraint. Even when water is abundant, collecting it respectfully matters. We teach how to source without disturbing banks, aquatic life or flow, and how to purify without leaving chemical residue. Drawing water becomes a moment of awareness, not just a task.

 

Group size and sound discipline are often overlooked in traditional bushcraft. Large groups can overwhelm a site, even if they tread lightly. We consider how numbers affect wildlife, erosion and atmosphere. Sound carries—so we teach quiet movement, low voices and the power of silence. Sometimes the best lesson is what’s not said.

 

Camp furniture and ground impact can leave lasting marks. Log benches, raised tables and dug-in features aren’t needed. We teach minimal setups using carried kit—tripods, tarps and stools that leave no trace. The terrain isn’t a blank canvas. It’s already a story. We don’t need to rewrite it.

 

Rituals of departure are part of the learning. We teach how to leave a site deliberately—sweeping the ground, checking for micro-litter, and thanking the terrain. A good departure says we were here, and we cared.