Into the Wilderness

By Cammi Norville


“Are you hiking alone?”

I’m about four miles into the nine-mile hike to the peak of Mt. Nebo, the highest peak in the Wasatch mountain range in Utah.

The older man in front of me is sitting on a rock slightly off-trail, snacking on a bag of trail mix. He looks at me, waiting for my answer.

I hesitate, taking in all the minuscule details and subtle signs I can within a three-second pause. He seems harmless, I could probably outrun him. My bear spray is within reach in my backpack’s side pocket. I just passed a younger couple headed down who is probably still within shouting distance. 

I make my decision. 

“Yes, I am, but I’m meeting up with friends later today.” 

“Okay, well, be safe and smart out there.” 

I smile, thank him, and continue on my way. I am not, in fact, meeting up with friends later.

Another mile down the trail, I pass a larger group, probably a family. The dad asks me the same question.

“Are you hiking alone?”

Again, I hesitate. I glance at the woman in the group. She smiles. The four younger kids are still headed down the trail, oblivious that their parents stopped. Both adults seem eager to chase after them.

“Yes, I am.” 

“Oh, wow. Be careful, and maybe bring a friend next time.” 

I thank them, tell them to enjoy the rest of their hike, and keep going. 

A few miles and a lot of elevation gain later, I make it to the summit. I’m rewarded with 360-degree views of the surrounding Uinta National Forest in all its fall color beauty and the valley floor below. There’s a pretty big group of people right at the summit, so I walk a little further along the ridge until I find a nice flat spot of ground away from the crowd. 

I sit and eat my lunch, watching people’s reactions as they make the final ascent to the summit. There are quite a few solo hikers up here, all spaced out, enjoying the views alone, although I am the only woman. Another hiker just reached the peak. He makes his way towards the rest of us singletons and nods to each one he passes. He gets to me. 

And for the third time today, I hear, “Are you hiking alone?” 

I tell him the same thing I told the first man. 

“Yes, I am, but I’m meeting up with friends later today.”

“Damn, okay, be careful heading down.” 

I assure him I will be. 

As I enjoy the scenery, I can’t help but think about how the solo male hiker I could see in the distance in front of me on the trail wasn't stopped by anyone, and how none of the men alone on the summit were questioned. I tell myself the people are just being polite and wanting to make sure I’m okay, but I still get a little annoyed by the fact that I was singled out. 

I should be used to getting asked if I’m hiking and camping alone at this point. I should be used to the fact that many people, typically men, seem to assume that because I’m alone, I must need help. I’ve heard the question, “Are you alone?” more times in the past year or so than I can count. 

I work as a wildlife field technician, which means I hike quite literally every day for work, in some pretty remote and intense areas, oftentimes out of cell service, and often alone. I also typically spend my days off hiking and camping, a lot of times, you guessed it… Alone. 

So I'm definitely no stranger to being outdoors and in remote places by myself. Honestly, it’s where I feel the most comfortable and confident.

My grandma has told me I’m brave for hiking, camping, and working in the field alone. I’ve never asked her before to elaborate on what she means by this, but I’m assuming she says this because any number of things can go wrong in the outdoors. 

Hiking, and really doing anything outdoors, whether alone or with a group, comes at a calculated risk for anyone, male or female. 

The chances of being attacked by an animal, falling off a cliff, or getting lost are the same for me as any of those solo male hikers. Being a woman doesn’t automatically mean I’m more at risk of succumbing to any of those things than my male counterparts are. 

Yet, oftentimes on the trails, and even in my work environment, I feel like I’m not taken seriously by certain men. This sentiment is shared among many women in the outdoors community. 

According to a 2017 REI survey, more than six out of 10 women say they feel that men’s outdoor interests are taken more seriously than women’s.   

If anything, I would argue that, compared to men, women are more likely to do the proper amount of research and planning beforehand and make safer decisions while being alone in the outdoors, because women are conditioned to think that it is more dangerous for us.

In a study by Farah & Farah looking at how women and men respond to fear and danger differently, it was concluded that “women were more likely than men to feel unsafe in many situations” and that women were also more likely to employ a variety of safety techniques and attempt to prepare themselves for all possible situations they may find themselves in. 

I’m not scared of being attacked by wildlife or losing my way in the mountains. I know these are very real possibilities, but I have the knowledge, tools, and experience to ensure I’m being as safe as possible and decreasing that risk. 

Nature doesn’t discriminate between genders.

People do. 

And, yet, I understand that I, as a woman, am potentially in more danger every time I embark on a solo trip than a man who hikes and camps solo. 

Not from the forces of nature and not because as a woman my outdoor skills are less competent, but because as a solo woman, other humans may see me as an easy target.

I hate actually admitting that, but that’s the sad, harsh reality of being a solo female. 

I am asked a lot if I’m alone, typically by men, whether it be hiking, camping, or getting food in town. Every time, I have to evaluate the individual asking and try to determine what their intentions are. I’ve lied before and said my boyfriend/dad/partner was waiting for me in the car or that the large group just up ahead are my friends and I’m trying to catch up to them.

One solo female traveler I know always sets up two camp chairs and leaves a pair of men’s boots outside her tent to give the illusion she’s not alone. 

Another chooses to wear a fake wedding ring in order to make the claim that her husband is waiting for her in the car even more believable. 

These are the realities of being a female.

But I refuse to let it stop me from enjoying the outdoors. If anything, being the stubborn person I am, it makes me want to prove even more to myself and those who tell me I should be scared that I’m capable of doing these things on my own successfully.

In the same REI study cited above, 72% of women say they feel liberated or free when they are in the outdoors.

Another reality of being female is that the outdoors is a space for women to be empowered and learn to trust and rely on no one but themselves. Personally, going hiking and camping alone has helped me build more confidence in myself than any other activity.

It forces you to learn to do everything on your own.   

I encourage anyone, regardless of gender, to experience solo travel at some point in their lives. Deciding to travel and explore the outdoors solo can be scary and intimidating. I’m not blind to the very real possibility of bad things happening when I’m in the outdoors alone, whether it be for work or fun. 

But, for me, the rewards of solo hiking and camping far outweigh the risk. 

Tips for Women (or anyone really) on Hiking, Traveling, and Camping Alone

  1. Do your research: I’m not saying to never be spontaneous, but you should always have a good idea of what to expect in the area or on trail you’re going to be hiking. I’ve never regretted doing too much pre-planning. 

  2. Start small and close to home: Exploring by yourself can be intimidating. Picking areas closer to familiar places and making sure the hike is easily within your comfort level to start is a great way to grow your comfort level naturally.

  3. Always tell someone where you’re going to be: I like to always tell at least 2-3 people where I’m going and when I should be back ahead of time. 

  4. Trust your gut: Women typically have incredible intuition. Trust that feeling. If something doesn’t feel right, then try your best to remove yourself from that situation. I’ve turned around on hikes before or ended work in the field early when that gut feeling of “something is off” wouldn’t go away. There is absolutely no shame in ending a hike or trip early if something feels off. 

  5. Be confident (even if you have to fake it): The term “fake it ‘til you make it” is true. When hiking alone, walking with your back straight and head up can go a long way. It’ll make you appear more confident and sure of yourself, even if you’re not. I always try to make eye contact with every person I pass by, and say, “Hi,” or nod.

  6. Carry the “10 Essentials”: This system includes 10 items that will help prepare you many situations you may find yourself in while outdoors (navigation, headlamp, sun protection, first aid, knife, fire, shelter, extra food, extra water, and extra clothes).


Cammi Norville is a traveling wildlife technician and Dead Foot Collective’s social media manager. She enjoys hiking, camping, climbing, and pretty much any other outdoor activity. Follow her on Instagram: @_nomadic_cam.

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