Solo Camping While Female by Christen Thomas

Essay

Several people asked me why I go camping alone, while many others told me to be safe, mainly in reference to bears. To this I responded, only somewhat jokingly, I’m not afraid of bears I’m afraid of men. My first solo camping experience was a bit spontaneous, as my usual camping company cancelled on me last minute.  A man I considered a friend offered to go with me instead, and then suggested –"jokingly" – that he might sleep-grope me by accident. His joke incited no laughter, but it did further motivate me to take the trip by and for myself. It also reinforced how easy men have it heading into the woods alone, perhaps looking for bears, but not looking over their shoulder, or across their tent, to tend to possible threats. Not only do women fear the lurk of the wild, but also, perhaps, the men they have opened to trust. 

Prior to setting off on my first solo camping trip in Algonquin Park, I dreamed about two wolves chasing me into a valley. While this could read as a bad omen I think of wolves fondly, as guardians, and as symbols of loyalty, strength, and spirit. Wolves have learned to trust their instincts to survive and they inspire us to do the same. To trust our hearts and minds and exert control over our lives. The wolf dream brought me courage, and I went into the woods alone, but less afraid. That being said, I’m not advocating running wildly into the woods. Always think ahead and carefully organize your trip. There are many great reasons to go solo camping and I recommend the experience immensely. 

You’ll develop skills and confidence.

From setting up a tent to making fire, you’ll practice your camping skills without the help of your friends. Driven by survival, you’ll become resourceful, improve your problem solving skills, and become flexible in responding to the elements. You’ll learn how to better camp, what to pack for a comfortable trip, and feel a stronger sense of self-sufficiency and independence. I learned especially that fire-making is a full-time job. When you go with a group, perhaps one person collects kindling, one brings firestarter, one has a knack for lighting, and you take turns tending embers. When you go alone, it's up to you to collect, ignite, coax, fan, maintain, and ration your wood, as well as put it out when going offsite. And it’s incredibly satisfying when your fire is finally eagerly going, to sit by it, and do little at all.

The freedom of going when you like and at your own pace.

You’ll set and adjust your own agenda and schedule, whether you want to hike briskly or leisurely, or do nothing at all but sit by the fire or under the stars for hours and reflect. It will enable you to take a trip when you wish, and on little notice. 

Your awareness of and connection to your natural surroundings increases.

Solitude will heighten your experience of the natural world around you. The ease of silence will intensify nature sounds, and you’ll have more time and less distraction to notice the enhanced details, beauty, and wonder of the woods and its plants and creatures. 

You’ll overcome hesitations or fears.

As you mark small accomplishments, and both carefully tune into your surroundings and relax, your hesitations and fears will melt away. I’ve never slept as well as when camping alone, while noting and dismissing night sounds, and having the comfort of careful contingency plans in case of crisis. 

For better know yourself, restoring focus and well-being. 

It may be rare that we truly enjoy our own company and have a chance to listen to our thoughts without the distractions of busy living. Having the occasion to explore our mind and heart brings greater self-awareness. The difficult thoughts that we have kept away may come up and need our attention, or new perspectives and gratitude may emerge. Having the chance to be open to hearing and feeling ourselves, and letting go of the past, brings understanding and peace.

In my camping journal, I reflected on the poem Bear, by Matt Robinson, printed as a limited broadside by Gaspereau Press. 

We have all been that woman in the poem, woken by the animal pawing at our window, wanting meat. Later, gaining knowledge that there was nothing feral out there. The time I heard my neighbour campers call out into the darkness from their tent, “is that a bear?” And my reply, ”I certainly hope not!” breaking the night with the laughter of strangers, while pulling my sleeping bag closer. That time I ventured out in the sounds to find a family of racoons, which we’re so used to living near to. At dawn, the woman in the poem determining through news that the commotion in actuality was an earthquake, more danger than she had anticipated. Certainly our mind can play tricks on us in the dark of stories inferred from past traumas, rather than waiting to read anew. Yet as always, the metaphor we are inspired to write is of meaning that must be considered with forthcoming plots and characters. 

In addition to these reasons, I drafted a list of tips for your solo trip. 

Practice your camping skills first by going with others and be prepared.

Learn from others and work on your wilderness living skills and on how to best set up camp. Work on the things you may not initially excel at the most, and that you rely on others to help with.  

On several occasions, I have arrived at my site in the dark and in the rain to set up my tent and start fire. Not ideal conditions or timing, but always a possibility. One evening, the temperature dropped to 2 degrees Celsius, and I needed both of the sleeping bags I packed. Check the weather forecast frequently, but also plan for the unexpected. 

Begin in a familiar landscape. 

Before venturing off the map start somewhere you’ve visited before. There is comfort in knowing what a location offers and what challenges you may face. After visiting Lake of Two Rivers in Algonquin Park with my friends, I was able to return knowing which site I’d like to book and what the area had to offer, including power and amenities, trails and terrain.

Know and respect your limits and intuition. 

I went for a solo hike and met my limits. There was no cell service, a slippery trail from the rain, and no one else was venturing out due to the weather. I turned back before getting to the cliff face. I missed a view but it was not worth the risk. I returned to that trail later, on my way home, when it was sunny and better frequented. Listen to your intuition, and work within the limits it presents you. 

Have a contingency plan and keep someone apprised of your adventures.

In case you find yourself to be truly uncomfortable sleeping in the woods, consider your options in advance. Know the locations of motels or think of crashing in your car for a time, or be ready to pack up and leave if you need to. You may also wish to equip yourself with bear spray, an air horn, and whistle, against aggressive animals or intruders. These measures will bring peace of mind in case of crisis. And while the point is to have quality time alone, it’s good to check in with someone about how things are going, and to provide full details of your plan.  

Bring the books you haven't had a chance to read. On my trip, I was drawn to the following pages. 

The Word for Wilderness is Woman by Abi Andrews

Andrews offers feminist nature writing that combines fictional memoir, science, and gender politics. Opening with a reflection on why explorers and adventurers are predominantly men, the protagonist, who is a nineteen-year-old woman, embarks on difficult trips through the US and Arctic wilderness, often in isolation. The narrative also crafts feminist philosophy around protecting the environment. 

Treed: Walking in Canada’s Urban Forests by Ariel Gordon

Gordon walks the reader through some of Canada’s urban forests, reminding me of when she took me on a stroll while I visited her Winnipeg on business, finding enough downtime to escape, recharge, and take in the beauty of the outdoors. A walk in nature is said to rewire the brain in merely twenty minutes. The essays are alive with poetic detail, reflecting on our relationship with the natural world. Gordon also reminds me, by exploring both rural and urban wilderness, that it doesn’t require a three hour drive to Algonquin Park to escape into peace and serenity. There are parks and trails in many of our nearby urban surroundings, forgotten wildernesses, waiting. 

The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories by Angela Carter

I re-read the story “The Company of Wolves,” in particular, a feminist rethinking of Little Red Riding Hood, where the woods include werewolves that sneak into human homes. Carter explores the metamorphosis of being torn between the beastly and the human. The heroine girl in the story lacks experience yet holds fierceness and confidence about her power, and at the end, enters the forest, unafraid. 

Capture your reflections in a journal. 

Inspiration may move you, or you may simply wish to work through some thoughts and feelings that emerge by jotting them down. It will also serve as a record of your adventures for you to look back on later. My notebook was usually within reach to capture fleeting ideas and observations, and I was mostly inclined to write after making fire in the afternoons and evenings, unwinding after hiking and tending to the site. 

Venture to a good vantage point for the sunset and the stars. 

Determine where the sun sets, or ask camp staff where the best place to view the sunset and sunrise is, and hope the clouds are sparse enough to show the full richness of stars. I also recommend planning a trip during a meteor shower, which is worth staying up late for. 

Be friendly with strangers but also embrace solitude and your own company. 

Do meet some of your neighbouring campers, who will no doubt also be looking out for you, but don’t feel the need to join others at the sake of not keeping yourself company.

In parting, I offer a final snippet from my camping journal, keeping in mind that insects usually make me squirm. 

During the day, the rain stopped, and time slowed. There will be neither stars tonight nor sunset for the clouds, but the fall colours are out, reflected by the lake. The woods are alive and I no longer feel alone. As I read, a slow insect crawls on my neck and I try to remove it carefully as not to squish it. It's a sphinx moth caterpillar, nocturnal, normally underappreciated until its magnificent metamorphosis. 

Enjoy your transformative experience of losing and finding yourself in the wild!

Christen Thomas works in Canadian publishing, currently as Director of Operations, Lancaster House, and serves as Treasurer, eBOUND Canada. Christen's poetry is published in journals, including Room, The Fiddlehead, and The Antigonish Review. Christen enjoys the outdoors, on foot, on two or eight wheels, and in the outfield