I go mushroom picking in the Oregon forest every year. The only real dangerous moment I ever had was getting soaking wet, and when the storm cleared, I stopped like a fool to eat lunch in a sunny for breezing opening. I finished lunch, and realized I was shockingly cold. Like, dangerously cold. I did jumping jacks as long as I could and then started walking uphill even though that wasn't where I wanted to go really. Weird moment.

I didn’t wear my rain gear hiking uphill in a quarter inch per 4 hours downpour and started feeling sleepy by degrees until I caught myself looking for a place to lie down for a nap. At that point I realized I’d better turn around posthaste.