Probably the closest I’ve come to being in strife on a hike was some 30 years ago, near Invermoriston in Scotland, with my girlfriend of the time. We were mainly following the trail, getting a nice look at the loch etc from path along the top of the ridge. It was starting to get dark so rather than go back the way we came, we thought it would save time to cut across, downhill, to another path. It seemed a manageable gradient.

As we went on it became clear, just from maths etc, that the gradient was going to get worse before we got to that path. We felt too knackered to go back up the slope, so we ended up sliding on our arses in fits and starts down a 40 gradient, loose scree scraping our jeans, until we got to a softer area where our boots could deal with the gradient. Downed a flask when we got to the path.