Highlands

The waymarked quartzite path glimmers in the sun, flanked by amber-gold grassland. Beyond, one of Scotland’s finest landscapes opens up before me, a woodland of ancient Caledonian pines leading my eye to the metallic glint of Loch Maree. On the other side of the water, a winding river separates the steep, stacked rocks of Beinn a’Mhùinidh from Slioch, one of the great mountains of Wester Ross, rising to a knuckle ridge of Torridonian sandstone.

I’m walking the four-mile mountain trail looping through Beinn Eighe national nature reserve (NNR), Britain’s first NNR, which celebrates its 75th anniversary this year. In a crowded list, you’d be hard pushed to find a more soul-stirring landscape in all of Scotland.

“The mountain path gives you a real flavour for Beinn Eighe,” the reserve manager, Doug Bartholomew, told me earlier. “It takes you right through the heart of the ancient Caledonian pinewood, then you climb steeply up to this rocky upland with views of Beinn Eighe mountain itself.”

When I reach the high point, at about 550m (1,805ft), I’m awed by the views across a lonely valley to the jagged ridgeline of mountain, which surges and falls like Atlantic waves locked in stone.

Beinn Eighe NNR stretches 48 sq km from Loch Maree to the eponymous mountain summit. When it was created in 1951, a key mission of the NNR was to protect Coille na Glas Leitir (the Wood of the Grey Slope), which is the largest remaining fragment of ancient Caledonian pinewood in north-west Scotland. The woodland was felled by some of Scotland’s earliest ironworks in the 1600s, and forestry and farming took its toll over the generations, but it is believed to have been here for the last 8,000 years.

After the Highland clearances, the lower slopes of Beinn Eighe were increasingly used for grazing. Deer-stalking, grouse-shooting and muirburn (when old growth is burnt off to encourage new growth for grazing) followed. The final exploitation happened during the second world war, when lumberjacks were brought in from Newfoundland and British Honduras to fell the trees for ammunition boxes. But thanks to pioneering landscape restoration work, namely deer management and tree planting, woodland cover has increased by more than 40% in the 75 years since the reserve was created.

Today, it’s a rare Scottish landscape where you can walk beneath twisted and gnarled pine branches hundreds of years old, but also alongside younger, conical trees.

“In the past, we had a tree nursery; so we collected seeds from the reserve, grew them in our nursery and planted them,” said Bartholomew. “We’ve now got continuous woodland linked from Glas Leitir all the way through to Coulin Estate, where you’ve got other remnants of ancient woodland, and we’re moving more to natural processes – conditions that will allow the woodland to regenerate and expand naturally.”

I soon descend into Coille na Glas Leitir on the mountain trail, passing a mosaic of birch and pines, draped in lichen. This path was a public access landmark when it opened in the early 70s, encouraging visitors to explore the mountain, and it’s still perfectly marked (though snowfall can obscure it in winter). Stags roar from the other side of Loch Maree as I walk. Tougher to pick out are the crossbills, with crossed mandibles to prise open pine cones. In warmer months, dragonflies with magical names – northern emerald, azure hawker – nose around rare mosses.

While steep, the mountain trail isn’t technical. Along with the easier woodland path, which showcases the ancient forest, and short loops from the excellent visitor centre, the beauty of this reserve really is accessible. Local providers such as Shieldaig Outdoor Adventures also offer days out exploring the islands of Loch Maree by canoe or kayak in warmer months.

I’m staying in Torridon youth hostel, at the head of Upper Loch Torridon, south-west of the Beinn Eighe massif. It’s a 20-minute drive from Coille na Glas Leitir via the village Kinlochewe, passing beneath the bulky mass of Beinn Eighe before Liathach, an icon of Glen Torridon, is revealed. The hostel is tucked beneath this mighty mountain, not in the nature reserve itself, but in an ideal place to explore it and the Torridon hills beyond.

“When we mention that we live in Torridon, people get misty eyes,” jokes Debbie Maskill, manager of the youth hostel. “For us, it’s the best part of Scotland. A real jewel.” It’s true that few place names roll so sweetly off the tongue of a hillwalker as Torridon. This is a place of grandeur – of immense, intimidating mountains set on some of the oldest rocks in Britain; of shifting light and uncompromising ferocity – with a beauty verging on myth.

The hostel – which itself turned 50 last year – is a pilgrimage site for hikers; it’s in close reach of some of Scotland’s finest scrambles, as well as the family-friendly nature reserve. Walkers and climbers trade stories and photographs in the communal kitchen and dining area. Floor-to-ceiling windows in the cosy lounge allow you to watch the weather roll over the Wester Ross peaks.

I stay in a comfy private room, and regret my early bedtime when a French guest shows me the photographs he took of the aurora shimmering above Loch Torridon the next morning. “Winter really captures the far north essence here, but by February, it’s getting lighter,” says Paul Thompson, duty supervisor at the hostel. “In the middle of winter, we don’t see the sun here, but in February it’s above the hills for quite some time. Then you get to May, a stunning time of year, when everything is fresh and you’ve got almost endless daylight. I love it all.”

On a six-mile loop of Loch Clair and Loch Coulin, just outside the reserve, I stroll beneath more tall pines, looking on to the Torridon beasts. The grey, dotted ridge of Beinn Eighe looks like it has a snow leopard’s coat draped over it, and the pyramidal mass of Liathach reflects back off the water.

I plan to walk to the Triple Buttress of Coire Mhic Fhearchair on my final day (three glacial rock towers in a corrie of Beinn Eighe), but heavy rain arrives. It’s all the excuse I need for a venison lunch at Bo & Muc, a field-to-fork restaurant at the swanky five-star The Torridon hotel.

I leave Torridon via the road to Achnasheen, stopping at the Glen Docherty viewpoint for one last look over the road to Kinlochewe, the lapping mountains and Loch Maree.

After centuries of deterioration, it’s heartwarming to see the fragments of ancient pinewood reconnecting here, in this immediately spellbinding landscape. In another 75 years, the young pines of Beinn Eighe will stand taller and, if all goes to plan, those who pass by them will be walking through a fully regenerative forest.

Accommodation was provided by Hostelling Scotland. Torridon youth hostel has private rooms for two from £52 a night, dorm beds from £20.50. The Beinn Eighe NNR trails are open year-round and are free to visit. The Beinn Eighe NNR visitor centre (with info on the reserve) is open April to October, 10am to 5pm

‘There! There – I can see it!” The cries of my four-year-old echoed around the ruins of 13th-century Urquhart Castle, causing a group of US tourists to come running over to the corbelled bartizans (overhanging turrets) where we stood. “It’s Nessie, I saw her,” he insisted, pointing at the ripples spinning out from the back of a sightseeing vessel on Loch Ness.