Walking the Mountains

Today, Hugo and I went on our second solo hike. Our first one was a gentle path up Mouse Mountain which has gradual slopes and only a bit of scree at the peak. The entire hike takes no more than 45 minutes round trip. 

I’ve wanted to do solo hikes for quite some time. After Asia, I’ll be booking a ticket to Spain to hike the Comino de Santiago, which is a 783KM medieval pilgrimage from Roncesvalles, on the boarder of France, to Santiago de Compostela in Galicia.  Backpackers can stay in hostels along the way, which mean’s slightly less to pack in, but still this trek isn’t for the weak of heart. 

The Comino isn’t the only reason for wanting to start solo hiking, I think there’s quite a negative stigma for girls to go off alone in the woods, and admittedly, all of those fears were fed while hiking with Hugo today.

I’ve been reading numerous hiking books the past while about womens’ experiences during long distance treks, learning about their lessons, fears, hardships and realities while on the trail. I’ve been devouring memoirs about solo hikes, such as Cheryl Stray’s memoir, Wild, as Stray vividly battles her life-demons by escaping to the Pacific Crest Trail. I especially love Aspin Matis’s book on taking that very same 1900+ mile trek in order to forge a new identity for herself since being raped on her second day in University. The hike taught Matis to be more than a victim, but a survivor. Shirley MacLaine discusses The Camino with her very own solo journey in Spain, which is more spiritual than anything I could ever hope to gain. 

Since I’ve been running a minimum of fifteen miles and counting per week, hiking up Fraser Mountain seemed like a nice change of pace and scenery. So, with a water camel and munchies in my backpack, Hugo and I set off for the mountains. In all honestly, I was rather nervous on my own. Those constant conversations that try to dissuade girls like me from doing what girls like me like to do, independent ventures, seemed to be echoing in my mind most of the way up. There was no shortage of these “but, what if” fears spontaneously filtering into my mind, bullet point after bullet point. Getting lost. Bear attack. Breaking a leg. A tree falling on me. A tree falling on Hugo. Excreta. Excreta. Excreta. Such ridiculousness.

 

Admittedly, after hiking up the mountain for over an hour, Hugo and I sheepishly turned around and headed down the mountain without successfully completing it. The sky was getting darker with angry clouds and the sign at the trail head warned us not to hike this specific trek during gusty hours. I couldn’t help thinking that Cheryl or Aspin or Shirley had nowhere to turn around when they were in the middle of their multi-day hike. People, girls women, take on and successfully complete solo hikes, all the time, while enduring educated risks from low water supply, a strained Achilles heel, exhaustion and a bear encounter or two. Why in the hell couldn’t I complete one silly, little day hike without my crazy brain talking me out of it?

What I and girls like me need, is that when we tell people that “Yes, I’m going to travel alone.”, the response isn’t “be safe”, “be careful”, or “wow, you’re braver than me”. The response should really be “good for you”, “there are great book resources out there” or “more people than you realize do exactly that, too”.

I’m responsible, I sent a text to a girlfriend informing her of where I was hiking and how long I would be, I packed food, water and a first aid kit, as well as music so an animal could hear me coming. A girl hiking alone isn’t reckless, when done with thought and preparation. It’s so frustrating that hiking, as well as traveling alone, is treated as though it’d done in reckless, careless spontaneity, and I mostly hate that we, women, have been programmed into believing it so.

All in all, a good portion of the hike was lovely. I picked huckleberries, and am snacking on huckle berry muffins as I type, and some of the time I was able to shut my brain up and walk light-footed up the trail while singing along with T-Swift. I sat on the rustic benches and happily ate my apples and cheese. My legs are tired and I’m feeling quite lighthearted. Despite not completing the entire hike, I congratulated myself of completing most of it. I suppose my victory really comes from mapping about another solo hike for next Sunday.

-K

I'm not most girls.