I wake to the sun’s first rays and my senses are instantly piqued by the lapping of nearby waves and the smell of salt and woodsmoke. I wriggle out of my bivvy bag, scatter the stones of last night’s campfire and, after a stove-cooked breakfast, pack my micro-shelter away. Once the last of my bags is fixed back on to my bike, I saddle up and spin away from this idyllic spot on the Cornish coast, an isolated sandy cove I came across mid-ride. It became my free room with a priceless view last night – and my own private beach this morning. I’d love to linger, but the trail beckons.

I reached this remote stretch of headland entirely under my own steam, carrying everything on my bike in special waterproof soft bags. Bikepacking – an exhilarating fusion of off-road riding and minimalist wild camping – is fast becoming a popular way to explore the outdoors. The physical excursion and simple pleasure of sleeping wild offer the perfect antidote to the stresses of modern life and a refreshing recalibration of the senses.

Deep roaming … bikepacking in the Cairngorms. Photograph: Mike Howarth

Unlike cycle touring, for off-road bikepacking you don’t need to follow a ribbon of tarmac. Instead, you can roam deep into the wild – along flowing forest singletrack or moorland bridlepaths, climbing rugged mountain trails or dropping down steep, rocky gullies to wooded valley floors. Wild camping along the way allows you to strike out further along ancient trackways, and to turn each ride into an adventure. A bike is a uniquely liberating machine and – when coupled with a lightweight tarp, tent or hammock – opens up vast tracts of our landscape, allowing you to cover much greater distances than on foot.

It isn’t always a blissful experience, mind you. I’ve tumbled over my handlebars while heading down steep scree slopes, had to walk for hours with a snapped bike frame, and been butted by ill-tempered mountain goats. Bikepacking takes you out of your comfort zone and right into the heart of the wonderfully unpredictable British wilderness – and that’s exactly why it’s so enjoyable. Just remember your mobile and first aid kit, and let someone know your whereabouts.

To enjoy camping with a mountain bike, you do need to get minimalist. Not being laden down with heavy panniers means your bike will handle more predictably on technical terrain, while a micro-shelter brings you closer to the elements than a traditional tent. You really don’t need much equipment, and what little you do need is inexpensive and can often be improvised.

Scotland and much of Dartmoor are unfettered by camping restrictions, and the high hills of Snowdonia and the Lake District often allow mountain camping for one night. Some coastal areas and waterways also enjoy historic camping rights, though it’s best to ask permission if you can, and leave no trace of your stay. Given, too, the countless camping barns, hostels and bothies scattered across Britain, you can go as wild as you like.

Firm trails, cooler temperatures and no midges … Laurence McJannet enjoys the autumnal pleasures of bikepacking in a Wiltshire wood. Photograph: Robin Leck

Bothies in particular make for memorable mountain bike adventures. Although traditionally found in the Scottish highlands and islands, there are a dozen of these simple huts in Wales and northern England too. The Mountain Bothies Association has restored almost 100 and turned them into destinations in their own right – for those with an adventurous spirit. They have few or no facilities, often just a fireplace and simple sleeping platforms, and you don’t book them or pay for using them, so it’s first come, first served. It’s in the nature of most bothy users to happily share, though: I’ve never been left to camp outside a crowded one (and more often than not you’ll find them empty).

Autumn is the perfect time to visit these once-derelict dwellings: not only is there more chance of finding one unoccupied, you’ll enjoy a warm fire and a nip from your hip flask all the more as the windows steam up from the chill evening air. In fact, autumn is a great time to embark on any bikepacking adventure: cooler temperatures, quieter trails and the end of midge season all help. Not only will the tracks be firm after (hopefully) being baked all summer, when you set off early in the morning you’ll have a hushed wild landscape all to yourself, and the entire day to watch it gleaming russet and gold.

• Bikepacking: Mountain Bike Adventures on the Wild Trails of Britain, by Laurence McJannet, is published by Wild Things (£16.99)

Beware of the hairy cow … three great autumn trips

Gower Peninsula, Wales (Easy)

Your room for the night … the Gower. Photograph: Andrew Bennett

For those new to bikepacking, this peninsula route offers spectacular panoramic views throughout; plenty of sandy coves for a wild coastal camp; and mostly wide, undulating trails, with the gradual climb to Cefn Bryn’s whaleback ridge the only real exception. From Swansea, downland paths and clifftop trails keep the sea constantly in view. Your loop west can last as long as you like, all the way to Worm’s Head and the picturesque Rhossili bay if your legs allow. Oxwich and West Cliff are great places for seaside refreshments. The route gives you a taste for technical singletrack riding without overwhelming you, but it will whet your appetite for further off-road adventure.

Isle of Mull, Scotland (Medium)

Wild forgotten trails … Mull

This beautiful corner of the western isles harbours my favourite bothy, Tomsleibhe, deep in the heart of Glenforsa estate. Take a ferry to Tobermory, the island’s colourful capital, and a wild, forgotten trail leads you past the rugged coastline at Ardmore and the wooded banks of Loch Frisa in the midst of Salen Forest to the rough estate road that unfurls along the banks of the Forsa to the bothy. Beneath the shadow of Beinn Talaidh and 7km from the nearest dwelling, Tomsleibhe is a truly remote place to spend the night, but all the more beautiful for it. With two fireplaces, it offers welcome respite from the Scottish autumn chill. Amid the evening silence you may glimpse a golden eagle, as I did, or spot a minke whale off the Sound of Mull to complete your experience in this otherworldly idyll.

Dartmoor, England (Difficult)

Great for a bivvy … Dartmoor. Photograph: Jon Boyes/Getty/Canopy

The one place outside Scotland where it is legal to wild camp. You’ll be spoilt for choice as to where to bivvy for the night. There’s a testing trail around the moor’s northeast edge from Chagford Common to Dunsford. Over desolate Headland Warren, the path winds past cairns and tors, skirting temptingly past civilisation at Moretonhampstead before heading to the River Bovey’s sheltered banks. If you can tear yourself away from the cracking pub at Dunsford, the trail heads south over some wonderfully rocky singletrack at Lustleigh before you tackle the foreboding sounding Grimspound climb to complete a 40km loop. A challenging ride, but immensely satisfying. LM