That was when I started climbing rocks. And rowing. And jumping off cliffs and white water rafting and backpacking off trail.

Last year, Duke and I jumped out of an airplane. That was pretty ultimate. Coincidentally, it lined up with the five-year anniversary of my dad’s sentencing. It’s hard to dwell when you’re free-falling thousands of feet, hurtling toward the earth.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re seconds from dying. Mine didn’t. I had no interest in seeing that bullshit play out again.

That said, it’s not that I have a death wish, no matter what my mom thinks. I swear, it’s nothing like that. It’s sort of the opposite? It’s like this intense need to have God as close as possible. To wear him like a second skin, directly over my pulse, like he could possibly contain all the messed-up pieces of me.

When there’s no one else, and I’m at the end of my tether, that’s where I feel God. In the waves pummeling me and the sun baking me and ground surging up around me. That’s my fucking church.

I’m finished with my run up to the top of Sugar Loaf, and I tug a water bottle off my pack, cracking it open and pouring half of it into the flexible plastic dish I brought for Cash. He takes his fill while I gulp down the rest. I move past the wooden platform, ignoring the tourists and early-morning hikers and making my way to the rocky edge. I find us a flat, shaded surface and sit down, stretching my legs out in front of me. Cash curls up next to me, seemingly at his leisure, but if I jumped to my feet, he’d be at my heels, ready for more.

“Easy, man,” I say, rubbing his scruff. “We mere mortals need to catch our breath after sprinting up a mountain.”

From our perch, we have a 360-degree view, and it’s probably my favorite in the world. September is still days away, but we’re pretty far north, and the breeze has the slightest bite of fall to it. The fiery vines of Virginia creepers are highlighting the rest of the still-green foliage, and it’s a relief. Summer is fine, but I live for winter. I have to up here. If I didn’t love feet of snow and below-freezing temps, I should have moved farther away than my parents’ garage.

Thinking about fall has me wondering about my new “friend” Meg. We didn’t hang out long after getting ice cream last night. Only long enough for me to walk her back to the hotel. I’m undecided if that was too short or just the right amount of time. There was a whole lot of stuff to unpack in that one session of “getting to know you.”