Hello! Welcome back to Callie Hikes! With midterms finally over, the school work is starting to slow down thankfully. This means more time to get outside and enjoy the awesome fall weather we’ve been experiencing here in the Midwest! I know the colors will only last for a short time, so I’ve been trying to make the most of it with chilly, early morning runs on nearby trails when I can. There’s just something so satisfying about the crunch of leaves, the wild ripe persimmon fruits fallen from the tree, and the entire world encased in a non-humid glow. Gotta love fall!
I could go on and on about how much I love this time of year, but today I want to take you someplace deeper into the very real experience of what it means to be a female hiker (or honestly any kind of outdoor enthusiast). This semester, I’m taking a women’s literature class and have spent most of the time analyzing the empowering yet sometimes excruciating details of various experiences of being female in this world. The more I learn, the more I can’t help but see how this topic translates into outdoor endeavors. As a woman who hikes, trial runs, and enjoys time in nature, I ask myself: how does my gender affect what I love to do?
Well, it sometimes can in a few different ways. First off, because I am white, I recognize that my experiences in the backcountry may differ from women of color. The outdoors as a whole lacks diversity and with that comes some internalized or interpersonal racism issues that women may encounter while enjoying their time doing the outdoor sport of their choice. However, generally, the biggest way my gender affects what I do in outdoor spaces is a concern for my safety.
Up until the last year or so, I felt fearless when I laced up my boots for a hike. The majority of my trips are done solo mostly because no one else in my life likes to do the kinds of adventures that I love to do. So, if I waited every time for a hiking partner to come along with me for a backpacking trip, I would never get to go! Because of this, family members and friends have naturally been afraid that something might happen to me while I’m alone in the woods. Is this because I am female? If I were male, would they worry as much as they do now?
This isn’t a new phenomenon. Some of my female acquaintances have sometimes marveled at my ability to hike or run solo and expressed that they would definitely go into the woods more often if they had someone else to accompany them every time. It never really bothered me before. If I am being completely honest, I feel much safer hiking in the woods alone at night than walking in downtown St. Louis alone at night (considering I live in one of the most violent cities in America, this is understandable).
However, recently I have noticed a shift in my fear. Suddenly, now when I set out on a trail either for a day hike or for an overnight trip, the anxiety of all the possible dangers that could occur flood me. These fears mostly involve other people taking advantage of me. So, instead of sleeping peacefully in my tent at night, my mind is consumed with thoughts of all the things that could go wrong. This is common. Actually, there’s a reason for this type of experience.
I’m 24 years old. Typically a human’s prefrontal cortex isn’t fully developed until age 27. The prefrontal cortex is the part of the brain responsible for executive function and impulse control, so as the brain develops, humans start to realize the greater consequences of their day-to-day actions. In my case, hikes that seemed like no big deal before now feel scarier as I assess the possible risks of going alone. But is this fear solely biological or is it partly because society has instilled anxiety in women who are by themselves for any length of time?
I don’t really have the answer to this question because I am still trying to come to terms with the issue myself. However, what I will say is that even though it can scare the crap out of me, I can’t let these fears hold me back from living the life that I want. No one should live in fear, but sometimes we have to, unfortunately. We can make room for the fear, give it space to breathe or fall apart, or feel whatever it needs to feel. For all the outdoorsy women out there: fear is okay. We just can’t let it completely rule our lives. Here is the empowerment piece with being a female hiker. As a woman who loves to hike, I can do so of my own free will. Is it fun to hike with others? Yes. Is there sometimes safety within numbers? Of course. However, if there’s a trip in mind and the itch in your heart is telling you to go for it, but no one can go with you, I highly encourage you to go anyway.
For now, when I go for solo hikes and runs, I can take certain safety precautions that could help ease my fear. This can look like making sure to always take my phone or personal GPS tracker with me. I could also bring mace or pepper spray. If on a backpacking trip, I could also make sure to set up camp away from any road or trailhead to limit the possibility of someone taking advantage of me. I can do all of these things, but I can’t give into the fear and have it prevent me from doing the hikes I’ve been dreaming about for a long time. I still have the Appalachian Trail on my list of hikes to do after I graduate and while I know hitchhiking into towns for resupply is almost unavoidable, I can’t let that stop me from accomplishing this goal. Yes, I am a solo female hiker. We exist and it’s okay if we’re also scared.
Do you have any concerns as a female outdoor enthusiast? If so, feel free to comment below or reach out to me. I would love to hear more about your experience.
That’s all for this week! As always, see you out on the trail!