There are endless hiking trails nearby, many much closer than this one. But I return to Big Mountain more often than not. It’s where I work out the stresses of recent weeks and the sorrows of recent years.

At first I climbed because I thought I could leave them behind. Now I climb to remind myself that I’m bigger and stronger than they are. That there’s more to me than my pain. I climb so I can feel tired and sore in places other than my heart. And I climb on behalf of my mother, who lived without that ability for 53 of her 92 years.