Yeah, once I was stuck on a ridge at midnight, no light, just a rough rope tied to a snagged branch. I checked the knots, felt the wind on my face, and jumped. The rope didn’t break, the ground didn’t swallow me, and the thrill of that drop was the only thing keeping me alive. Later that week I was alone in a canyon, a storm rolled in, no shelter in sight. I used a tarp over a rock overhang, built a fire with a ferrocerium rod, and found a stream that’d hidden behind a rock wall. That was the real test—keeping calm, reading the land, and making sure I survived until help came.