For many of us, a long walk alone outdoors can activate feelings of fear. Women, people of color, immigrants, folks in the LGBTQ+ community–many people are afraid to be alone in nature, in a rural place, or anywhere where they are far from the support of others.
As a woman who hikes, travels, and camps alone, I’m often asked why I am not afraid. The truth is, I am afraid. And yet, I keep hiking, traveling, and camping. I do these activities with others when possible, but if I want to do something and there’s no one to do it with, I still go out and do it. I take precautions, I take care of myself, and then I do the thing. Alone. And I enjoy the hell out of it.
To be clear, I am not advocating for doing things that absolutely terrify or traumatize you. I don’t like scary movies or roller coasters, so I avoid them. Know your limits. If hiking alone is not for you, it’s not for you. But for me, hiking is something I enjoy so much that I would rather do it alone than not do it at all. And so I’ve found ways to do it alone safely.
One way I do scary things is by learning from my fears. There is nothing wrong with feeling fear–it can teach us the best ways to care for ourselves, the best ways to make ourselves feel safe.
My fear has taught me to take calculated risks and limit the things that could go wrong. I have learned to list the things that I fear, and then find ways to embrace them. My fears have helped me build up a safety net of things that remind me I am safe even when I’m alone.
Here is my guide for how to embrace your own fears and create a solo-hiker’s safety net.
1. Fear: General anxiety about hiking alone
Way to embrace it: Talk to yourself
I am a big fan of talking to myself. If you are ever around me, and especially if you ever run into me on trail, you might hear me mumbling to myself. You can judge me if you want, but there are many reasons I do it and many wonderful things to say to ourselves.
One important safety reason to talk to yourself in bear country is to alert any bears to your presence (Pro Ranger Tip: Never sneak up on a bear). But there are other vital reasons to speak to yourself.
When we feel nervous, uncomfortable, or afraid of being alone outdoors, it is imperative to understand why. Are we in danger or do we just feel like we are?
Think about the fear of heights. Are you unsafe being several feet from the edge of the Grand Canyon? Probably not. However, person afraid of heights may feel unsafe even though they are in no immediate danger, because they can see from a distance how deep the canyon is, triggering a fear response.
There is a difference between feeling unsafe and being unsafe. Learn to recognize how it feels in your body to be unsafe versus safe. Learn to look for actual danger. And learn to look for actual safety.
Our feelings are valid–if you are afraid you are afraid. But one of the amazing things about feelings is that we have the power to alter how we think about them. We have the power to listen to what they have to tell us and learn what they have to teach us.
When you are feeling unsafe but you know that you are safe, talk to yourself. List all the pieces of your safety net, all the reasons that you are not in danger. Say them internally or even out loud if it helps.
Remind yourself that you are capable, that you are prepared, and that you will always take care of yourself. A pep talk is one of the best ways to start any outdoor journey.
2. Fear: Someone or something might attack me.
A. Way to embrace it: Bring armor (i.e. water bottle)
Okay, hear me out. If I’m hiking and nervous, I carry a hard plastic water bottle that I can hold in my hand. Some people are comfortable with other kinds of weaponry, but not all things are safe or legal while on public lands.
For example, firearms are sometimes legal to carry in US national parks depending on local regulations, but they are (at the time I am posting this) illegal to fire. Even if you carry a gun legally on national park soil, the only thing you can do with it is bludgeon someone or something. Which you could also do with a stout water bottle.
My water bottle is thick plastic, heavy when filled, and lean enough that I can grip it solidly in my hand. Carrying it provides me with hydration and a great arm workout; I swap it between hands when one arm gets tired. I also feel like if the need arose I could whack a person or wild beast with it. A thick metal or glass bottle would be good for this purpose too.
Now, I’m not saying that a water bottle is a match for all threats you may face while hiking. I think of it as armor. I feel safer knowing that it is there. I can feel its heft in my hand–I certainly wouldn’t like to be struck with it–and that makes me feel calmer.
Remember, the point of this essay isn’t to eliminate fear. I can’t do that for you; I certainly haven’t been able to do that for myself. The best I can do is minimize my fears; my water bottle helps me do that.
Your armor doesn’t have to be a water bottle. Carry a walking stick or trekking pole (both useful in so many ways). When in bear country, clip bear spray to your belt or pack (as long as you know how to use it safely). Wear a safety whistle. Bring what you need to feel safe. Just don’t let your fear keep you from doing something you want to do.
B. Way to embrace it: Bring a dog
Do you have a dog? Do you know someone who has a dog? Lucky you. Dogs have been proven to soothe and relax people by encouraging the production of happy chemicals, like oxytocin. And hiking with a dog can make us feel safer, even if they are small or not exactly guard dog material.
I’m not even sure that hiking with a dog counts as being alone–but man are they a great way to overcome this fear. I know women who will not hike alone without their dog, and if this is you, then good for you and for the dog. There are a few things to know about hiking safely with dogs, though, so make sure you are taking precautions to keep them safe.
Consider where you are taking the dog. Most national parks and many other public places have strict regulations about where pets can and can’t be walked. These rules are for the safety of park wildlife and visitors as well as the safety of your pet. Look up safe trails and public spaces for dogs. Look up regulations as well, like if dogs need to be on leash.
If hiking with a dog allows you to enjoy your time in nature, go for it.
3. Fear: What if something happens to me on the trail and no one knows?
A. Way to embrace it: Tell someone where you are going
Often when I lived in national parks and couldn’t find a hiking partner, I would hike alone. I would text or leave a note for my roommate about what trail I was going to hike and when to expect me back. It’s good to tell someone in person, but I like to also have my plan in writing.
Leaving a note is an especially good idea if you are hiking in a place where there is little to no cell reception. Many national parks and remote hiking locations (sometimes even parks in or near cities) don’t have reliable cell service, so leave a note before you head out. Don’t depend on being able to text from wherever you are, especially on a trail.
It might also be a good idea to let the person know what to do if you haven’t returned by the expected time. Discuss what you want done before you go out hiking. Should they come looking for you? Call an emergency service? Wait another hour before worrying? Set up a plan, one that will help you feel safer when you are out on the trail.
Modern technology can assist you here: there are items like wristbands that alert people to your location. You can post to social media about where you’re headed, if that makes you feel safer. Whatever works for you.
Letting someone else know where you are going and what to do if you don’t return can help you feel safer and more supported while you are out hiking. Knowing someone has your back will hopefully allow you to relax and spend your energy enjoying your hike, not worrying.
B. Way to embrace it: Stick to other people
On my second day of a four-day solo backpacking trip on the border of Alaska and Canada, I prepared for my most challenging day. That morning I would climb a literal mountain of bowling ball boulders larger than a person, then at the top traverse miles of hard-packed snow fields as slick as ice. Hiking and camping alone was one thing–tumbling off boulders or snow to my death was another.
So I made certain that during the scarier parts of my morning trek, I was around other people. There were other campers at the campground; I got up early and then waited for a large group to leave, some of whom I had chatted with the night before in the warming hut while heating my dehydrated soup.
I stuck to these people like glue, speeding up or slowing down when I needed to. I wasn’t a creep; I asked if I could be around them, especially while crossing narrow snow fields above ice-covered lakes. (At least if I slipped and drowned under alpine ice, there would be witnesses.)
I made it through the dangerous sections of trail safely, and I didn’t fall (well, not to my death–I definitely bruised my bum a couple times). I was grateful to have had companions for a time, and, when the danger was behind me, I continued on, hiking at my own pace, alone.
Don’t make things harder than they have to be. Don’t be a lonely hero. If you are frightened of some particular section of the hike or if you don’t want to be alone anymore, ask if you can join other people. Maybe you’ll make a friend. Most importantly, you’ll feel safer.
If you have social anxiety and don’t like approaching strangers, I feel you. I’m the same way. What I’ve found though is that there is a camaraderie unique to outdoor recreation–people tend to say hi when they encounter someone else on trail or in a campground. There is a greater sense of being united with strangers when you are surrounded by wilderness. Also, people tend to be nicer when they are basking in beautiful natural spaces, at least in my experience.
So just ask. Honestly, some of my favorite memories from hiking and traveling alone are the encounters I had with new people. Being alone can free you up to be approachable or make you bold enough to approach others. Meeting new people is one of the benefits of hiking alone.
Bonus: Benefits of hiking alone
Flip your mindset
The reason I embarked on a four-day solo backpacking trip in semi-hazardous Alaskan wilderness was that I was tired of people. I lived in a four-bedroom park house with seven other people, one of whom slept in a twin bed beside me every night. I spent my days answering questions from hundreds of cruise ship tourists and guiding them on tours of town. I didn’t have a moment alone, a moment when I wasn’t expected to perform some sort of role–park ranger, employee, friend, roommate. As an introvert, I craved alone time.
So I went on this hike–four days by myself in nature. It was blissful. I wasn’t being reckless–I had hiked the 33-mile trail before, with friends. I knew other rangers stationed on the trail, people I could find if I needed assistance or wanted companionship. One colleague with broad shoulders offered to carry my pack for a while when we ran into one another on trail; a Canadian ranger let me spend the night in her spacious wall-tent. I cooked my food on a stove on loan from my boss, stabilized myself on the snow with my roommate’s trekking poles, and wore waterproof gloves sent to me by my mother. I was never really alone.
But for miles and miles of trail, I was by myself. I serenaded the bears, ate all the wild blueberries and didn’t share, walked at my own pace and stopped when I wanted to. I loved being alone on that trail; it remains one of the favorite outdoor experiences I’ve ever had.
So here is my last piece of advice: flip your mindset. Don’t think of hiking alone as an exercise in terror. Love it. Look forward to it. Think of it as something you get to do, not something you must do for whatever reason you have invented.
When you are truly alone, like, the only person around for miles, you can enjoy yourself in ways that you can’t do at any other time. The mountains, lake, desert, canyon walls, trees, or even birds will not judge you if you make noise, do a silly dance, or gape in wonder. Listen to the silence or for sounds you would not hear with other people around. Practice mindfulness, something I find easier to do both in nature and while alone.
Reframe your solitary hike as a solo adventure–you taking on the wilderness. You embracing your own fears. And when you succeed, when you complete your journey, no matter how small, be proud of yourself.
Joy and pride are some of the reasons I continue to hike, even if I do it alone. If you want to keep yourself coming back to nature, don’t think of it as a place of fear. Think of it as where you find your strength, your courage, and the other best parts of yourself.