There’s something about being in the wilderness that is so novel every time you step into it. It’s like the first time you climbed a mountain as a little kid. Eyes wide open as the tree line thins to alpine ruggedness… finally sitting on the peak and seeing the world in an entirely new perspective. Honestly, it’s just like the first time you look out an airplane window and finally seeing how small and insignificant everything is. I know, super cheesy and Pinterest worthy inspirational but hey… it’s true.
Yet, I spent a lot of my time in college trying to be that hopeful, inner badass 8 year old New Hampshirite but always feeling like I failed. Not trying to blame my weakening confidence and self worth on the patriarchy but… it was if I was mansplained everything that I ‘needed’ to know about the wilderness. I started to lose trust in myself and my intuition.
Let me give you an example:
During my sophomore year of college, I went on a wee little hike… in February… in the Adirondacks. My boyfriend at the time was amped about this trek. He was aiming to become a Adirondack 46er, trying to conquer every single high peak in the park like a Roman emperor in Europe. I on the other hand, just wanted to escape the stress of school and was prone to accepting spontaneous adventures.
At the time my trust was solely placed on a 20 something guy from suburban Maryland. No offense to him at all, but he was also not as experienced in winter hiking as I originally hoped. The hike went as followed: getting lost on unmarked trails, not realizing that the hike was 24 miles and not 14, and to top it off, trekking through the snow in the dark because of a broken headlamp. Needless to say, there was no planning ahead or being prepared in my books.
I was so bloody scared that I sprinted and kissed the trail register when I finally saw it under the frigid moonlight.
I hopped in the car that evening, a little bit fearful of my life, extremely thankful for heated passenger seats and subpar takeout pizza, and honestly upset that I never placed any trust, faith… whatever you want to call it, in myself.
I spent that entire day questioning my own abilities, my intuition and judgment, all because I never thought I had the experience or knowledge as a guy just a year older than me.
And honestly, that’s how most of college felt. I found myself always going on weekend adventures with guys making decisions, setting up camp, leading the trails because I never really let myself feel like I was capable. And let’s be clear here, I’m not trying to roast guys for loving the outdoors too, but have you ever questioned your own ability to be in the wilderness? To be there, maybe even by yourself and feel safe and strong in the environment around you?
I continually resisted the notion that I could be independent doing the things I loved the most…. and it drove me absolutely crazy. Why did I have these thoughts? Why did I keep myself back? Why did I never want to speak up and take action for myself?
It really wasn’t until the summer after that winter mess where I saw some light in myself. In July, I volunteered for a girls’ leadership camp directed by one of my family friends. I had interned there as a camp counselor during high school, but they need some help with their outdoor education program. As the overly ambitious environmental studies major I was at the time, it felt like a calling.
I spent that week, mostly in the mosquito infested New Hampshire wilderness, camping and hiking with middle school aged girls. Each day a different age group would spend the night. From unenthusiastic incoming 9th graders to extremely enthusiastic 6th graders, I began to see this odd mirror of myself.
The youngest girls were never afraid, maybe even too excited to see every strange mushroom and insect we spotted on the trail. They rarely questioned themselves and their actions (which at times was… let’s just say hazardous), hiked up mountains like it was a challenge they were willing to face and set up camp like it was a jigsaw puzzle they were ready to solve. I saw that little girl in me who hiked up a mountain peak for the first time with my family.. just excited to be there, wanting to see the world in a different way.
The older girls on the other hand… didn’t really have that same excitement. I began to see a reflection of that girl on that infamous February trek. There was hesitation, fear, and worry in every step they took. Many of those girls didn’t want to be there at all. It was if they were trying to protect an image of what others wanted them to be.
This past weekend, embarrassingly enough was the first time I’ve ever backpacked with a group of girls. Just girls. EVER. And dare I say it, I felt like like a badass. Maybe this experience is so mundane to others, but it was eye-opening for me. For the first time in a while, I felt like this killer outdoorsperson, independent in a vast Colorado wilderness and supported by the other badass girls with me.
It was a weekend full of winter-like nights being a little too loud around a non-existent campfire (yay climate change for the abnormally dry weather), REI flasks of whisky and hot chocolate, and morning hikes to glacial lakes.
Who would’ve thought that a small weekend trip could be so empowering?
Hey! Thanks for reading this post. To all the outdoorsy gals out there, I want to hear about your experiences being a woman in the outdoor community. Feel free to share your stories in the comments section below: