Every time I tested for loose, wet rocks underfoot, I thought about two poles of outcome. First, I will make it, and everything will be fine. Second, I slip, fall into the stream, and roll down fleshy rock-like. If the second, we're fucked as phone reception is sparse. Thankfully, positive thinking landed me in the first scenario most times. A few wobbles here and there but all in a good challenge. Every now and again, a bush would drag its thorny nails across my skin, leaving red single-line tattoos.