This past weekend, I went on a nice, leisure hike up to Bridal Veil Falls. The walk to the falls took about 10 minutes, no big deal.

Brian, the guy I was with, looks around and then peers straight up to the top of the mountain.

"Let's go to the tip," Brain said. "It will be fun," he said.

There was some metal structuring at the top from a building that burnt down in 2008. The only way up used to be from the world's steepest aerial tramway. And now, this guy wanted to scramble up to it.

Guys, I'm not talking about some mountain with a bunch of switchbacks. No, I'm talking unmarked trails, slippery, wet rocks, and ropes that make you question your sanity.

But who better to do crazy things with than someone you're crazy about, right?

We start making our way up the mountain. I'm wearing Tivas which provide great fashion but minimal support and traction. We crawl up some steep rocks and find ourselves at a dead end. Great, lost already. We turn around to head back to where the barely noticeable trail may have split. As we start up that one, the path grows steeper and less noticeable. After carefully crossing through the highest point of the waterfall, we clamber up some rocks and continue forward.

I have a hard time in situations where I don't feel safe. I don't know if it's because I don't want to fall and be seriously injured or if it's because I care about my family too much to die, but that's beside the point. What I'm trying to get at is that the way we were working up the mountain was becoming sketchier and sketchier.

There came a point where, once again, we weren't sure if we were on the right path. I was terrified so I plopped down on a rock while Brian ran up ahead. He told me he would come back to get me after scoping it out. Ten minutes had passed without him returning from around the bend and I began to worry. At 20 minutes, I sucked up my fear and pressed forward the same way he did: alone. If he had fallen somewhere, I wasn't just going to sit around and wait for some fairy to save him.

I hiked for about 10 minutes before seeing him. He was fine. All that worrying for nothing. He relayed to me that the way he headed definitely wasn't an option and that we had to turn around and head back -- again.

We didn't think there was any way to get closer to the top. We had thought we had exhausted all our options. There was this steep crevice in the mountain but there's no possible way that that could have been the proper route. Little did I know, it was.

Brian knew going up that wasn't my gig. He told me he didn't want to do anything we weren't both comfortable with. The thought of turning around was extremely tempting, but I knew this was an adventure he was looking forward to. I start heading toward the crevice and he followed.

He takes hold of a rope that a hiker had tied on and scales the rocks no problem. I, on the other hand, am focusing on trying not to die. It takes me a lifetime to get to where he was at and then he just continues on to the next rope like what I had done wasn't the greatest accomplishment known to man.

Once he gets to his next stopping point I begin to follow after him. After getting about half way up to him, I was on the brink of tears. I was scared. I was frightened. I was done.

I had done the best I could and was ready to go home. I let him know that I was ready to call it quits and without batting an eye, Brian turns around, gets to the rocks right below me, and helps me descend the slippery rocks of death. Climbing down those rocks took about twice as long as it did to get up them -- despite all the help I was getting from Brian.

About an hour later we were back at our car. No, we didn't make it to the top. Yes, we did get lost on more than one occasion. But all in all, I had an amazing time.

If you're ever looking for a weekend activity to get your heart racing and to test your adventuring abilities, I recommend venturing out to the almost-completely-demolished building at the top of Bridal Veil Falls mountain.