David Lintern discovers the woody magic of Creag Meagaidh, a conservation success story. Mooching around in the gloaming, seeking a good pitch. I crossed the burn, up to my shins, surprisingly cold, fast and flowing hard. Widely spaced birch and thigh high grasses looked enticing from a distance, but the earth was sodden. Reluctantly, I turned around and crossed back. Reaching the bank, something made me freeze and look up from placing my poles carefully as I exited the riverbed. Climbing a steep hummock into the undergrowth and therefore seen from above, an animal the size and shape of a…










