We tottered along a narrow footpath, our packs heavy with our water supply, and looked out into space to our right. From our hiking boots, a short steep slope of grass descended 10 feet, and there the land ended. Far beyond and below that edge, it reappeared, indicating we had quite a high cliff a short slip away. Dan, a college professor a couple of people ahead of me, hadn’t strapped in his sleeping bag very well, and it started to dangle. We spoke up, but as he turned, the strap came loose, and the bag took two gentle bounces before disappearing over the edge. Like guilty children, we looked ahead to our guide apologetically. He wore cheap sneakers, jeans, and a tattered baseball cap, and his belly suggested perhaps he had a weakness for snacking. Not the stereotypical outdoorsman. He said nothing, but to our horror, descended that steep …