Do It Scared: My First Solo Backpacking Trip

How Going Alone (and Being Afraid) Set the Foundation for Future Adventures

My sixth backpacking trip was this solo adventure. The seventh would ultimately be the Appalachian Trail.

Deep into the COVID lockdown, I was feeling itchy for an adventure. I was living in Columbus, Ohio, and I was working a series of odd jobs. People kept asking me what my plan was -- I didn't feel comfortable returning to teaching until the pandemic was over, as my online teaching experience in the 2019-2020 school year was simply awful -- and I realized I was given the unique opportunity to use my excess of time in an interesting way. I decided that I was going to pursue my childhood dream of hiking the Appalachian Trail starting the following spring. Mitch ended up joining me because he was looking for an excuse to quit his job anyway, but the original plan was for me to do it by myself. All of my previous experiences had been with other people. In October of 2020, I was still very much a novice, but I was beginning to figure out the basics and understand my style as a hiker.

The next step seemed clear to me: I needed to try this activity alone.

Before the Trip: Safety Precautions and Preparations

I wasn’t terribly familiar with the Ohio backpacking scene beyond the two trails that Mitch and I had hiked together. Fortunately, my roommate’s boyfriend was a former Eagle Scout from the area, so he was able to recommend a short trail for me that led to a campground.

I’m not going to lie; I was very nervous about a solo night in a tent. Especially as a young woman, I had been trained my whole life to fear… well, everything. Of course, these warnings were not unfounded, but it left me feeling more scared than excited to hit the trails by myself. I didn’t yet have a satellite communication device, so if I was out of cell signal range (which I was), I would truly be alone. I knew I had to prepare myself for this kind of travel -- not just for potential threats, but for the mental state of solitude.

But, as I’ve learned, fear isn’t necessarily a bad thing; it just tells you what you need to prepare for. The first step for me was identifying my hesitations and figuring out how to plan for them. What were my apprehensions? How justified were they? What could I feasibly do to negate them, and how could I address them once I was on the trail? My top areas of anxiety were people, wildlife, water availability, and boredom.

People

I read a lot of advice on how to mitigate negative human encounters, and it’s similar on trail as it is anywhere else. I packed pepper spray as my main deterrent. If asked where I was going, I was to give a vague answer. I would never specify that I was alone, and I would lie about a male partner being nearby if necessary. It’s important to take in your surroundings and make note of people in the nearby vicinity. I also had to remind myself that violence, particularly against women, is not exclusive to being alone in nature; in fact, you're statistically less likely to experience violent crime on a trail than in a heavily-populated area.

Wildlife

Researching what animals you may encounter and how to deal with them is a key part of any outdoor travel. For example, black bears can be found in the wild in every U.S. state except Hawaii, and mountain lions are basically everywhere. I knew it would be unlikely to encounter either of them -- black bears are very few and far between in Ohio, and mountain lions are unlikely to interact with hikers, as they’re not moving fast enough to trigger a predatory response -- but it’s still good to know how to react just in case. For black bears, make yourself as big as possible, make loud sounds, and stand your ground. For mountain lions, maintain eye contact, back away slowly, and do not get low to the ground for any reason.

Southeastern Ohio is full of tall grasses and wooded forests -- prime tick habitat. In October, the weather would generally be too cold for ticks, but I learned how to do body checks and use a tick key for removal just in case.

Water Availability

Many state park campgrounds have water spigots with potable water, and I made sure that this was the case for this trip, as I wasn’t yet comfortable finding natural sources on my hikes. I did bring a water filter with me just in case, and I had practiced using it in my kitchen sink before my first backpacking trip.

Boredom

Knowing that I would likely be alone for the whole hike, plus overnight, I knew I needed something to keep my mind occupied. I downloaded an audiobook -- The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt -- to keep me entertained, and I brought a deck of cards to play solitaire.

Solo Backpacking: A Girl and Her Tent

The hiking itself was fine: easy, straightforward, and uncomplicated. I learned that I enjoy hiking by myself, and I found an early appreciation for an audiobook in my ear. I greeted every passing hiker with a friendly smile and an air of confidence. I never made myself appear lonely or small.

I have very little recollection of the trail, but I remember getting to camp and wondering what to do with all that time alone. Of course, the combination of time and solitude gave me more time to think about being nervous, so I had to address those nerves pretty quickly.

When I got to camp, I saw other people at nearby sites, and I noted which ones didn’t seem to include women. I introduced myself to the people at the site nearest to me and casually slipped into the conversation that my boyfriend was napping in the tent. Psychologically-speaking, having some sort of connection with the people around you would make it more likely for them to warn you if something were awry.

I learned that I had a different fear while alone: not trusting myself to pick a good campsite away from potential hazards. I'd checked the surrounding trees for dead branches when I set up my tent, but that had previously been Mitch's job. When it was dark and I was in the tent by myself, with no one to check my handiwork, I realized I was so nervous about a branch falling on me. I learned a valuable lesson that night, one that I still carry with me on my solo trips: if I'm not willing to get out of my tent to check conditions, and further unwilling to pack up my stuff and re-pitch my tent, then it's not worth stressing over, and the best thing I can do is get some sleep.

After the Trip: Takeaways and Tips

My first night alone on a trail and in a tent was… fine. I didn’t come away from it feeling unstoppable or invincible, but I wasn’t quite as scared when I left as I was going in. Thousands of miles later, I still don’t love camping alone if I can avoid it, but each time it happens, I leave my campsite feeling less freaked out by the idea. With experience and exposure comes confidence. And if you're reading this and thinking to yourself, "I don't think I could ever camp by myself!" then honestly, if you don't need to, don't.

While I was keen to try new trails, I wish I had just done one of the trails that Mitch and I had previously done, and that's a strategy I would recommend if you are interested in trying your first trip alone. Going somewhere I had already been would have eliminated some of the stresses of trying to navigate an unfamiliar location. There is comfort in familiarity, and reducing the number of discomforts in any possible way would have been a smarter move.

Whether I’m doing a day hike or an overnight trip, I always communicate to at least one person back home exactly where I’m going and when they can expect to hear from me. Assuming I’m out of cell range, I include a bit of a buffer time to allow for driving back to service, but I always include the name of the trail with GPS coordinates, a link to a map, and, if applicable, where I plan to set up camp. I also include local emergency service numbers if necessary, just in case they don’t hear from me after the specified time; while this wouldn’t immediately negate something bad happening to me on trail, this would potentially minimize the amount of time before emergency services were deployed to hopefully help if that needed to happen.

I now have a Garmin InReach so I can communicate with the outside world through satellite without needing to be in cell range. It also has an SOS feature that can send a quick signal to nearby emergency services. It’s an expensive piece of gear, but I find that it provides immense peace of mind for me and my loved ones when I’m out adventuring, so to me, it is very worthwhile. (If you can afford to wait some time before buying, I highly recommend checking Facebook Marketplace for older models!)

Even now, after hundreds of nights backpacking, my biggest fear is always other people. People are unpredictable, and you can never fully know their intentions or motives. I can’t control whether or not other people are out on the trails, but I can figure out how to mitigate my concerns with them. As I said before, I never give any indication that I am alone, and I never reveal my destination to anyone who asks. I maintain a cordial but distant disposition; I don’t assume bad intentions, but I also don’t count them out as a possibility, and I’d rather be perceived as polite but guarded than friendly and inviting.

My weapon of choice is pepper spray (or bear spray in grizzly country). If I had a nickel for every time someone asks if I bring a firearm or a knife when I hike or camp alone, I’d be wealthy enough to fund another thru-hike. I don’t bring any actual weapons because, frankly, it’s more dangerous for me (someone who isn’t competent or confident in using them) to have them, especially if I had a dangerous encounter with someone who did know how to use them. Fortunately, I’ve never even had to deploy my pepper spray.

Food storage is one of my main concerns. No matter what, I put all of my food, trash, and scented items in a hard-sided canister overnight to keep it safe from all wildlife, including rodents. (I linked the BV450, which is the size I used at the beginning, but if you’re only looking at doing single-night trips, the BV425 is probably the canister for you!) Proper food storage is key to maintaining safe animal encounters -- not just for yourself, but for other trail enjoyers. As wildlife becomes more habituated to human food, they are more likely to approach people on trails and at campsites. I’ve had to steer clear of several campsites that were closed due to aggressive bear activity, and bear aggression is often food-motivated.

This trip taught me a lot about the basics of camping alone. You can’t rely on anyone else for your safety and wellbeing, and when you are fully responsible for yourself, it can be quite intimidating. However, with practice and exposure, it becomes less scary. I still don’t find it enjoyable, but I’m not afraid of it anymore. This experience became the foundation for several of my later adventures. I’ve now done several camping trips and thru-hikes by myself, and I don’t think I would have had the confidence to do so if I hadn’t forced myself to do this one trip alone.

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