The rock dared me to trust it. “I’ll be a good handhold,” it seemed to whisper. “I promise!” Though it probably weighed as much as me, the rock seemed to have a tenuous connection to its neighbors on the side of the cliff. I studied the obstruction skeptically, then tried to work my way around it.

Once I had lifted myself up to eye-level with the questionable boulder, my curiosity got the better of me. I nudged it with a finger. The rock came loose immediately, and I had to jump aside before it crushed my legs or knocked me off the side of the mountain. My hands had been unprepared for the maneuver, and they scrambled for purchase on the steep slope. Mercifully, my grip stabilized, and I continued my shaky ascent as a plume of dust billowed up from the trail of the fallen boulder.