Two different kinds of freedom

Walkers often use "right to roam" and "right of way" as though they mean the same thing. They don't, and understanding the difference is the foundation of every legal day out on the fells. A public right of way is a line on the map — a defined route across land, usually someone else's, that you are entitled to follow. Open access land is an area: a whole hillside, moor or common where you may wander more or less where you like, on foot, without sticking to a path. Many upland days use both, often within the same hour.

Reading the map before you leave the car park

On the 1:25,000 and 1:50,000 leisure maps most of us carry, public rights of way appear as green dashed lines. The dash pattern matters. A plain dashed line is a public footpath: walking only. A dashed line with crosses, or a noticeably different rhythm, marks a bridleway, open to walkers, horse riders and cyclists. Restricted byways add horse-drawn vehicles, and byways open to all traffic carry the whole lot, though many are no more driveable than a boggy track.

Open access land shows up as a pale orange or tan wash, usually with an open access symbol at the boundary. That wash is your licence to wander. Outside it, and off the green dashes, you are a trespasser — politely tolerated on some estates, firmly moved on elsewhere.

What open access land actually gives you

On access land in England and Wales you may walk freely on foot. That is the limit. The right does not extend to:

• cycling, horse riding or driving any vehicle
• wild camping, lighting fires or using a stove on the ground
• swimming, fishing or paddling in reservoirs and streams
• organised or commercial group activities without the landowner's permission

Even within the mapped boundary, some ground is excepted. You cannot cross farmyards, gardens, buildings in use, or land within 20 metres of a dwelling. Quarries, railway land and working airstrips are out too. If a gate carries a "private" sign and the ground beyond is a farmyard rather than open moor, respect it.

Dogs are welcome on access land but with conditions. Between 1 March and 31 July, and at any time near livestock, your dog should be on a short lead — two metres or less. Ground-nesting birds such as curlew, lapwing and golden plover are at their most vulnerable in that window, and a loose dog can clear a whole hillside of chicks in an afternoon.

Gates, stiles and the small courtesies

Furniture tells you a lot. A yellow waymark or fingerpost usually means a footpath, blue means a bridleway, and purple or red point to byways. Waymarks are a courtesy, not a guarantee — paths do sometimes fade into a wall or vanish under bracken, and a little map-reading confidence will save a lot of fence-line wandering.

Leave gates as you find them: open if open, shut if shut. On access land, walk round the edge of a field rather than through a crop. Give livestock room, especially cows with calves — most incidents come from walkers trying to squeeze between a cow and its young, or letting a dog chase. And follow the age-old rule about carrying out everything you carried in.

Closures, restrictions and checking before you go

Access is a right, but it is not unconditional. Land managers can close access land for up to 28 days a year for reasons such as lambing, shooting or tree felling, and longer with permission. Military ranges fly red flags or show red lights when live firing is underway — never walk past one. Local authorities can temporarily close a right of way for up to six months for repairs, and diversions are usually signed on the ground.

Before a big day out, check the access authority's website or the relevant national park's access page for current closures. It takes two minutes and can save a long walk to a locked gate.

Scotland works differently: the Land Reform (Scotland) Act gives responsible access to most land, with the Scottish Outdoor Access Code as the guide. Northern Ireland has its own framework. The principles of respect, though, translate everywhere. Know the line, know the area, and treat the land and the people who work it as though your continued welcome depends on it — because it does.