For instance, walking across this ice and snow covered suspension bridge, the kind modeled after the Inca rope bridge. It rocks, it swings. It’s not my kind of bridge. But I took a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and made it to the other side.
I knew the Slippery Rock Gorge Trail would be a rough hike, but I didn’t know it was going to require daring. We wandered off-trail and had a bit of an adventure when we encountered very large boulders blocking our way. We ended up having to retrace our steps and hope we were moving fast enough to get back on the trail before the sun set and left us in the dark.
The proof of what an adventure it was lies in the fact that I took very few photos once we were off-trail, and none of the pictures were of the boulders because it was dark in the gorge and I was too busy trying to climb back over a rock I’d struggled to climb over in the first place when the decision was made to go back the way we’d come.
Or there was this trail, near Slippery Rock. It was steep, rocky, wet, and slippery. Perfect for mountain goats.
These were posted every now and then along the trail because if you slipped and fell down the steep slope you were walking on, you would likely end up here:
These were neither heroic feats of daring-do nor were they extreme in any way other than stepping outside of my comfort zone. I’m not fond of heights and I like to have firm footing on the earth.
But sometimes it takes a little dash of daring to do something new or different, to deliberately take the steps needed to confront a fear. It’s just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other.
(Note: This is one of several posts — including yesterday’s — that I prepared ahead of time. I’m visiting with my parents, my sister and her family, and will be back to boring you again with daily views of the pond in a few days. Hopefully I’ll get caught up with everyone then, too.)