Outdoor ambassador

The 49-year-old has had her ideal job for five years. She is responsible for Ben Nevis, and the beautiful Quinaig and Sandwood Bay estates in the far north-west, as property manager for the John Muir Trust (JMT).

But it's not all bracing country walks and caring for nature: stewardship of Britain's highest mountain involves the conservation expert in controversy. The JMT has a crusading mission to save wilderness areas and wants to make the Ben Nevis summit plateau, which it bought 12 years ago as part of a 1700-hectare tract, as wild as possible.

Ms Lockhart calls the charity "purist", but 160,000 people a year climb the mountain, and it's one of the biggest visitor attractions in the Highlands. She has to balance these two very different sets of demands, and has had to develop conciliatory skills to deal with people alongside her expertise in dealing with wildlife.

The tourist path is our first topic of conversation as we walk. The higher section, on land owned by the Trust, has recently been rebuilt to make an easy-to-follow, erosion-proof track.

This lower section is privately owned and falling apart. A funding crisis at the Nevis Partnership, which brings together all the mountain's landowners, means repairs may not get done until 2014. Last time I was here hordes of people were climbing the hill. By building a new path, I ask, has the JMT not generated more traffic? If this lower part is fixed won't it get busier? Doesn't that contradict keeping the mountain wild? "The path doesn't encourage people," Lockhart says. "People just hear about others walking up Ben Nevis and come. They don't research the condition of the path."

But once they're here won't a good path persuade some people to go on? "Perhaps," she replies doubtfully.

I try a different tack. The Trust is currently involved in wrangling over whether to remove an aluminium pole which marks the descent from Ben Nevis and is used by climbers in winter. Mountain guides tend to want it to stay; the Trust says it's an intrusion.

To play devil's advocate, I ask, how can the Trust worry about a pole in an obscure spot when it used machinery to create a path for a mile-and-a-half across the mountain, with 23 marker cairns? "The new path is narrower than the old one: it's actually less of an intrusion," Ms Lockhart fires back. "If we just patched the path it would be never-ending and possibly more intrusive. Yes, we have used machines but we've got it done quickly so people can get on with walking up the hill."

On the marker pole, a compromise is likely. "Now that I have been with the Trust for five years I appreciate that Ben Nevis is really different and there are lots of people trying to make a living using it, and we accommodate them. You have to be diplomatic."

On one occasion dealing with the demands of people and conservation, Ms Lockhart and her staff literally went bananas to make a point. Banana skins, dumped because people think they're biodegradable, don't rot high up because it's too cold. To encourage people to take them away, Ms Lockhart and the rest of the JMT team dressed up as giant bananas, led by Banana Man, and took to the hill.

"It was a good way of breaking the ice and getting the message across," she says. "It made it easier to talk about because we were dressed up: they made the first approach wondering what on earth we were doing."

The next job will be the issue of people using the hill as a toilet: "The staff are asking what we'll have to dress up as this time," Lockhart laughs.

She also has to deal with stunt climbs. It took long negotiations to find a way for a re-enactment of the drive to the summit by a Model T Ford in 1911 to take place. She persuaded the organisers to build a replica, break it into small parts, carry them up and rebuild it on top. An archery enthusiast wanted to climb the hill shooting arrows and following their path.

"He was fully qualified and would take every precaution but I could just see the headline, 'Mad archer let loose on Ben Nevis'.

"You just think, 'No, for God's sake,' but I spent half a day thinking how to promote the Trust while refusing."

Ms Lockhart's first career was running a riding centre, but she dreamed of working on landscape issues. After a degree in conservation management she worked for the Environment Agency, then for the Farming and Wildlife Advisory Group, helping farmers get conservation grants, before getting the job with JMT.

She is married to Mark Foxwell, reserves manager for the Scottish Wildlife Trust. They often work together, and inevitably talk about work at home. "We don't mind, actually, because what we do is so enjoyable. The SWT has a different take on things but we generally agree."

A keen hill-walker based near Inverness, she spends as much time as she can on her JMT properties, although a site visit will often mean lengthy indoor meetings.

Part of her jobs is to manage three rangers who do much of the work on the ground, such as wildlife surveys, guided walks and encouraging native species to grow, but she joins in the work, and senior management is not on her agenda: "I like doing this too much," she says.

Heading back down the mountain Ms Lockhart confidently suggests we ask walkers if the good path is a factor in whether they climb the hill.

Most indicate the path has encouraged them. It's easy to follow, it's safe and it's not too steep. One experienced walker has his indoorsy wife with him: they are here because she can cope with this easy track.

It seems I've won a battle but Ms Lockhart is a tough cookie and won't give up the fight. "The fact is we can't get rid of the path," she says patiently. "We can't leave it unmaintained because it would just get badly eroded and leave a huge scar. The paths would spread all over the place. People will climb the mountain anyway: this way it makes less of a mess." Nevertheless, she's interested in our straw-poll replies: maybe a proper survey would be worthwhile. "You learn so much by hearing other people's opinions ... it helps to broaden your mind a bit."

Back at the car park she packs away her dogs, and I reconsider my views on the path. The outdoors diplomat, it seems, has done her work well.