Securing the Crossing

A slick layer of wet green moss coated the flat granite stepping stone across the forest runoff ditch. Stepping onto slime with a heavy pack is an easy way to twist an ankle, and I don't tolerate sloppy footwork. I hauled a sharp chunk of red sandstone from the gravel bank, dropped into a low crouch, and bore down on that stone face. With three hard, rasping strokes, I shaved the moss clean off until the rough grey mineral bit through. I drove my boot tread dead center and put my full weight behind it. Zero slip, absolute grip. That crossing is locked down.