Give me wild peaks over busy beaches. Always.

I hate crowds. On beaches, they’re everywhere – shouting, splashing, blasting music. Kids kick sand in your face. Strangers park their umbrellas two feet from your towel. And that ocean? It’s beautiful but deadly. One wrong wave and you’re gone.

Mountains are different. They’re quiet. Powerful. Free.

When I hike up high, it’s just me and the sky. Sometimes I walk for hours without seeing another soul. Just wind in the pines and eagles floating overhead. Pure peace.

Your legs burn. Your lungs scream. But every step takes you higher, away from the noise below. Then you turn a corner and BAM – the whole world opens up. Valleys stretch forever. Clouds cast shadows on forests far below. Everything else feels small and far away.

No drowning fears here. No crowds. No noise.

Just me, dirt trails, and endless peaks calling my name.

Some people need sand and waves to feel alive. Not me. Give me rocky paths climbing into the sky. Give me clean air that makes my lungs sing. Give me mountains – wild, free, and mine alone.

That’s where I belong.