People often ask me if I’m scared when I tell them I hike alone. Online forums are awash with women posting their worries about solo-hiking. There is always a super concerned boyfriend or family involved. I’ve seen people “compromise” by agreeing to text from their InReach beacons daily – only to have their families panic when messages don’t arrive because the satellite signal is spotty. In short, there is a lot of angst out there. So, how safe is it really to hike solo – especially as a woman?
Wild safety
Is the trail a dangerous place? The short answer = not really. The wilderness is overall a pretty peaceful place where you are more likely to break a leg than get assaulted. It would take a highly determined rapist to pack a shelter and several days of food, and hike for days into the wild to pray upon female travellers. Statistically you are much more likely to experience dodgy situations in cities or during your town stays than on the trail. As far as crime goes, the wild is probably the safest place you can be.
Same goes for camping: the further into the wild you are, the safer you’ll be. At campsites connected to roads you’re more likely to meet non-hikers who might have driven out to sleep in their van and enjoy a few beers. Now, I’ve camped at many such sites without ever having a problem. But if you’re travelling alone and feeling a bit spooked, try camping in a more secluded space in the forest a little distance away from the main action – if only to not be disturbed by drunk people being noisy.
My own encounters have ranged from the absurd to very annoying, but never dangerous. For those interested in the juicy details, check out these blog entries (GR20 day 5+7, Jotunheimen day 1). The most common scenario is that guys will express interest, be completely immune to rejection and keep pursuing the chase to ridiculous lengths. I haven’t encountered the classic mansplainer (yet) that will give me unsolicited advice on everything under the sun (maybe the wilderness version of the pathological dickpic sender..?), just dudes with “traditional” – aka ancient – attitudes.
Remember, just because you start out alone doesn’t mean you’ll be alone or end alone. If you’re on a fairly well-travelled route, you’ll meet a bunch of other people to hike with.
Not all trails are created equal
Sadly, there are some trails with higher rates of crime and violence than others. The Appalachian Trail in the US is probably the worst example of a relatively high crime rate trail. During the 2019 season, a man attacked and killed two hikers with a machete, and there have been several other instances of homicides and sexual violence. Paradoxically, the AT is one of the most highly trafficked trails in the world where you’ll find yourself in constant company of your chosen trail family. Solitude-seekers usually shy away from the AT because they can’t deal with the crowds. However, this is south-east USA. Unlike in nations with civilised gun laws, you’re now in gun-glorifying hillbilly country – and the trail runs close to towns and roads where crime is statistically more likely to occur. That being said, I would still say that hiking the AT as a solo female is completely unproblematic. For my part, I’d be much more concerned with my mental state after walking in the friggin forest for 5 months!
Naturally, more remote trails present other challenges, like potentially dangerous wildlife, difficulty resupplying and unforgiving climates. But if it’s other people you’re most worried about, the crime-incident rate of these trails is almost non-existent. Worst (likely) case someone might try to steal your gear. For more advice on picking the right trail for you, read this post.
What about hitchhiking?
This is probably the scenario that people are most concerned with. People’s eyebrows tend to shoot up to their hairline when I nonchalantly tell them I hitchhike regularly when I’m hiking. And sure, sometimes you think about it when you’re standing on a deserted stretch of road, sticking out your thumb to anyone who wishes to rape and dismember you.
However, I’ve found that being a woman is actually a huge advantage when hitchhiking. Imagine if you were to pick someone up, would you rather go for the scraggly-looking bearded man or pigtailed, smiling woman? Yeah, me too. I have hitchhiked on all my long-distance trails and found it to be completely unproblematic. People are on the whole SO nice, they’re worried about you getting picked up by a creep and come to your rescue! Interestingly, my dad actually had some very unsavoury experiences hitching with other men when he was in his early twenties and travelling around the US. True enough, I haven’t hitched on big freeways, only touristy country roads. But even my 5 hour hitch from Geilo to Oslo was a really pleasant experience – you get to know people surprisingly well in a short time.
Obvious hitching advice: if a dude pulls over with a “what’s up, cutie?” you don’t take that ride. If you can pair up with someone, go ahead. Maybe don’t hitch in the dark. Greet the driver with an air of authority. If someone is making you feel uncomfortable, be really stony-faced and ask them to drop you off at the next intersection. Keep your phone and wallet in your pocket at all times. If the driver says something like “I’m just quickly gonna stop by my friend’s place” or something like that, tell them to drop you off, non-negotiable. You don’t owe it to anybody to be nice if they give you a bad feeling.
the gender politics of thru-hiking
White dudes are heavily overrepresented on long-distance trails. Women and people of colour – not to mention those with less-than-slim bodies, are sadly still minorities in the wilderness. However, that doesn’t mean that you’ll be an outcast! The hiking life is famous for bringing people together and fostering a sense of community among total strangers. That being said…
I’m sad to report that long-distance trails host very varying attitudes to gender equality. Some hikers actually quit the PCT after too many encounters with toxic masculinity. As in society generally, there are cavemen out there who just have plain filthy attitudes toward half the human race. For example, the PCT online Facebook forum is flooded with Trump supporters (*retch*), and they don’t leave their shitty attitudes at the ballot.
I’ve heard male hikers comment on female hikers’ bodies on the trail, and I wonder Do you feel big and powerful by treating her as a sexual object? Do you think being an idiot is sexy? Tip of the day: nothing screams “dumb-ass pervert” like a dude categorising female hikers as hot/ugly/fat/milf/what have you.
If you’re a guy reading this, please take note: female hikers are overwhelmingly disinterested in being hit on. You might feel you’re being nice by complimenting her appearance, but it’s highly likely this makes you seem creepy to her. Sure, you’re such a nice guy, but she doesn’t know that. Heck, maybe you’re not a nice guy either. And for the record, women don’t hike to get your attention. We just want to chill out in nature. Just because a woman is being nice to you doesn’t mean it’s time to roll out the condoms.
For my fellow hiker ladies: allow me to reference podcaster Dan Savage’s relationship advice: follow the campsite rule. You wanna leave people better than you found them. If you encounter a sexist/rude/creepy dickhead, give him a piece of your mind. If my corrosive sarcasm towards a certain in-need-of-some-education Danish guy can be of inspiration, check out this entry. A lot of guys have crap attitudes because no one has ever called them out on it (it’s an extra advantage if you can gang up on him with other hikers of both genders). Have a couple of good lines stored ready to use, so that you’re not left speechless by nasty behaviour and the offender is out of earshot by the time you gather your wits. Be prepared! I’ve read so many articles encouraging women to back away slowly and not say anything – but that’s just not how I roll. You’ll feel much better having stood up for yourself and slammed down an icy remark. Better to be called a bitch than a doormat.
in short…
Take a personal locator beacon with you on any remote/long-distance hike, and remember to calibrate it to the country you’re hiking in. If you want to worry about something, worry about navigation or hypothermia or tendinitis – it’s much more likely that these things will trip you up than bogeyman encounters. Do like Cheryl Strayed, the author of Wild. Tell yourself a different story than the ones you’ve been told all your life. Decide that you are safe. Because the world belongs to you, and you should run into it with confidence! Grab your outdoor adventure with both hands, claim the wild and your place in it. Happy trails!