Ahead, way up the trail, I spied my guide and photographer Piotr Lisiecki off his bike, crouched low, with his camera close to the ground. What was he up to? Initially I thought he was engineering a novel angle with which to capture my struggles along the dark, boggy forest track but as I edged closer, and then passed him, the lens was pointing downwards, into the mud. If he wasn’t shooting me, what was he shooting? Several minutes later, and now on a sharp gravel descent, he was at it again. This time I had to ask, and on his camera’s display was a large pawprint. A wolf’s pawprint.
I’d spent the previous evening being chased by an assortment of domesticated dogs that galloped out of their yards in…