With no time to lose, I reached up above my head and grasped the last granite boulder separating me from the summit, but my heart instantly lurched as I heard the rock scrape against the stone beneath it and saw it begin to slide towards me! Desperately, I threw all my weight behind my hand, pushing back on the rock to attempt to stop its descent. My toes nearly lost their purchase on the hillside, but the boulder gained enough friction and ground to a tentative halt. One by one, I lifted my fingers delicately away, and I dared to release my inheld breath. That chunk of stone could have crushed me like a potato chip and brought an end to fun and games in Norway.

With great care, I worked my way around the overhanging hazard and found a less obvious route to the summit, but before I could take in the views of the Lofoten Islands, I realized I had a huge decision to make. That boulder was now a veritable booby trap, resting in such a fragile position that it would almost certainly squash the next unwitting hiker who laid a hand upon it. I should push it down the hill and defuse the dangerous situation, but the slope was so steep and uniformly level that the boulder would effortlessly roll the complete length of the mountain, picking up speed and smashing into the seaside highway. Too much traffic was rushing by, and a direct hit on a vehicle would be fatal; even a near-miss could cause a deadly accident. To make matters worse, the rock would land right at the entrance to a tunnel, so even if I blindly managed to avoid striking any exiting automobiles, they could still emerge and collide with the boulder before they had a chance to see it.

So, do I kill someone now or put it off until later? I had never faced this kind of decision before. And what’s more, I could barely afford the time to think matters through, because I had to descend this mountain and catch a ferry back to the mainland in less than 40 minutes.

Yes, for those of you keeping track, this has been a running theme throughout my travels in the Lofoten Islands. An hour earlier, I had been inquiring about local hikes at the harbor’s tourist information center, and I was persuaded by an employee to show up early for the ferry so that I could help drive a rental car on board. Naturally, I had disregarded her “safe” choice for a pre-ferry excursion and set my sights on this seldom-climbed mountain promontory. The views of Lofoten - which resembled a sunken Grand Teton mountain range - were indeed stunning, but I could barely get my brain to register them with this big decision looming over my head.

Ultimately, I chose to let the boulder rest where it was. Perhaps the next hiker would be blessed with lightning-fast reflexes, or a midnight storm would blow the rock down when it would do the least amount of harm