I like to think of myself as a pretty fearless, strong-willed person. I’ve done plenty of adventurous things, from river rafting in Oregon to hiking the Camino de Santiago in Spain, rappelling off 100-foot cliffs in Arkansas, and the list goes on.
But even with years of experience in the outdoors, I’m embarrassed to admit that I couldn’t do one seemingly simple thing: Spend a night in the woods alone.
Backpacking by myself as a woman seemed like a big, frightening undertaking that I wasn’t capable of. It was a fear so deeply ingrained in me that I’d never realized it was driving me away from even trying. My refusal to go camping alone led me to go on a REI guided backpacking trip, which had effects far beyond what I expected.
Backpacking Solo as a Woman: The Fears
To some GearJunkie readers, backpacking for a night or two alone in the woods might not seem like that big of a deal. With advanced tech like the Garmin inReach, which has an SOS function, you can call for help anywhere and at any time. There are plenty of easy, well-marked trails that anyone could do.
And yet, to me, a woman in her late 20s, it felt impossible and, frankly, foolish to backpack solo. Those same feelings of uncertainty have made other women consider backpacking with a gun.
Part of my fear came from real but rare examples of women out in nature experiencing violence. In 1996, two women were murdered in Shenandoah National Park. In 2015, a man murdered an American woman hiking the Camino de Santiago.
While these incidents were unusual, they were visceral reminders. And as a journalist whose job it was to report such incidents, I was also well aware of how the media helped sensationalize such random acts of violence.
And of course, this is nothing to say of the violence and attacks that women were subject to in daily life. Approximately one in five women is sexually assaulted during her lifetime. My parents, my universities, society, and other women’s experiences ingrained in me that I could never count on being safe.
Logically, I knew that most victims of sexual assault know their perpetrator. A boogey man wasn’t going to jump out of the woods and attack me. But when the threat of violence shaped how I lived my daily life, why on earth would I venture into the woods alone?
I had done two 350-mile backpacking trips in Europe, so I logically knew I was physically and mentally capable. However, each time I reminded myself of that, a small voice in the back of my head reminded me that I had done it with my best friend …
I had never attempted something like that alone. As someone who has always struggled with self-doubt, it was easy for me to convince myself that I wasn’t strong, smart, tough, or resourceful enough to do it by myself.
REI & Olympic National Park
My story with REI trips began out of desperation. I love sport climbing, and wanted to go on a trip over the summer in 2024. Of course, climbing requires a partner, and none of mine were available. I was living in Iowa at the time, which, unsurprisingly, isn’t a paradise for outdoor lovers. My itch to get outside and spend some time in nature needed to be scratched.
I was too afraid to backpack by myself, though, and no one else wanted to go. Then REI’s trips came across my radar. I knew I’d be safe with guides. After perusing the options, I booked a spot on a 3-day backpacking trip through Olympic National Park in Washington. It was always a place I wanted to go, and the mileage was moderate. So, I bought a plane ticket, tried to ignore the credit card bill, and got my gear ready.
The Guides
On the first morning, the group met in an airport hotel near Seattle. Our two guides introduced themselves and explained how the trip would work. Justin was fresh off doing the Pacific Crest Trail. Even though he had thousands of miles under his belt, he was so patient and kind with the other hikers. When someone in our group was struggling, he’d take on the rear, chatting with them to help the miles go by faster.
Then there was Emma. Even though she was younger than me, I wanted to be her. She had done all of these amazing hiking, boating, and skiing trips, some with friends, some by herself. She was a woman blazing her own trail in the outdoors, which is exactly what I wanted. Each morning, Emma would get ready with her signature accessory: glitter. She wore glitter on her face on the trail and passed it around for everyone to share.
It was a small thing, but it corrected another one of my misconceptions. I had believed that being alone in the outdoors as a woman meant being tough and hard. Emma demonstrated that toughness wasn’t exclusive of femininity. Being in nature didn’t have to mean putting on a mask and hiding your gender expression.
I spoke with Emma several times about my anxieties about backpacking alone. Her responses struck just the right chord, validating my understandable fears and encouraging me to push back against them.
I had this idea in my head that I had to be fearless to go backpacking alone. Emma reminded me that doing things scared was okay. Our conversations prompted me to reflect on other aspects of my life that I had successfully achieved, despite initially being scared. I had pursued a Ph.D., switched career fields, and moved across the country by myself. I had certainly done more overwhelming things than camping alone, I realized.
The Other Hikers
The other participants on the trip were all enthusiastic, and all had their own reasons for coming on the trip. One retired woman regularly went on REI trips because she loved the community and not having to do the planning. Another woman and her son were runners who had never tried backpacking. This seemed like the best way to start.
Seeing some of these folks on their first backpacking trip reminded me of how far I’d come since my first backpacking trip as a teen. As they dealt with blisters from boots they hadn’t broken in, I remembered a giant blister on my toe that seemed to haunt me for 20 miles.
Someone brought a large, heavy wooden bowl as their dining plate. I reminisced about how I used to bring multiple pairs of shirts and pants because I couldn’t bear the thought of wearing the same dirty shirt for a few days.
I wasn’t looking down on them, but merely recognizing that I had been there. Living through those mistakes and errors had made me all the more prepared to do it on my own.
After the trip, we all had a group chat. Many participants shared their plans for their next backpacking trip, whether it was by themselves, with REI, or with a friend. Justin and Emma had taken a group of varying ability levels and experience and transformed them into inspiring thru-hikers in just a few short days.
The Effect
While the scenery in Olympic was certainly stunning, and the friends I made were wonderful, the most important thing I took home with me was a newfound sense of confidence and boldness.
As soon as I landed back in Iowa, I messaged Justin. I asked if he, as a native Midwesterner, knew any good backpacking trails in the region. Within a few days, I had secured a permit to do the Lakeshore Trail at Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore in Michigan — alone.
It would be my first-ever solo backpacking trip. My mantra to myself was, “It’s okay to do it scared, as long as you do it.”
In all my anxiety about what I might lose doing a solo trip, I hadn’t really considered what I’d gain. I loved the pure freedom of hiking a trail alone. I could go at my own pace (and not be subject to the militaristic pace my dad set as a kid). If I wanted to stop and take in a view for 10 minutes, I could, without worrying about anyone else. Alone in the backcountry, I didn’t have to give anything to anyone.
Since that REI trip, I’ve gone on five solo backpacking trips. I’ve been to California, Utah, and even New Zealand, and I already have future trips planned. I think it’s easy for experienced outdoor folks to forget what it was like to be a beginner. If you’ve thru-hiked a 300-mile trail, why would a guided trip appeal or even matter to you?
But if that same thru-hiker had never mountain biked before, I bet they’d appreciate the help of a guide for their first time. Some of us need some encouragement to try new things, and the positivity and knowledge of guides like Emma and Justin make it possible.
New REI Trips & Other Options
After announcing last November that it would bring its trips back in association with Intrepid Travel, REI launched its new trips page. The company is basically acting as a middleman and promoter for Intrepid, while also offering “REI exclusive” trips.
I poked around the new website, and I couldn’t quite believe the price tags. Want to do 13 days on the John Muir Trail? That’ll be $9,375 (before airfare), which is about how much doing the entire Pacific Crest Trail costs.
The old REI trips were never “cheap,” but the new versions are downright inaccessible. There are fewer National Parks trips, and many more international trips, which, of course, cost more. Trips also go to more already over-touristed areas, like the Himalayas and Spain’s Camino de Santiago.
Other options include finding local guiding companies that operate exclusively in the area you want to visit. Not only are you supporting a small business, but you’ll also be guided by locals who know the area well. Often, local gear shops and retailers run guided trips or offer classes.
For example, where I live in St. Louis, Big Muddy Adventures runs guided single- and multiday canoeing trips that even include meals made by gourmet chefs. When I visited New Zealand, several local companies offered guided kayak tours of parts of the South Island.
Many groups run guided trips specifically for women, queer people, or other marginalized folks. Wander Women Midwest, for example, takes women on overnight backpacking trips in places like Isle Royale National Park.
If you’re looking to get into a new activity, special events or festivals can be a good, affordable place to start. Flash Foxy runs women-centered climbing festivals with optional guided clinics to help you learn new skills. The annual Sandstone Ice Festival in Minnesota is designed to introduce new people to ice climbing, and it won’t break the bank.
I paid over $1,000 to go on my adventure with REI. I wouldn’t pay that much to go backpacking now. But if that was the price I had to pay to backpack alone — one of my absolute favorite things — then I consider it money well spent.
Read the full article here
