Solo sleepover
Fiona Russell is no stranger to the outdoors, but she had never wild camped alone - until recently...
SAYING GOODBYE to my two hillwalking friends as I headed off for a solo wild camp in the Cairngorms, I saw the concern on their faces. “Are you sure it’s safe?” one asked. “Won’t you get too cold?” said the other. “What if you are frightened?” she added. Their questions were well-intentioned and showed they cared, but I doubted they would be asking the same if it was my husband who was planning a night out on his own. And whilst I reassured my female friends that
I’d be “perfectly fine”, I confess I felt my confidence waiver a little as they left me at the base of the hill to return to their car and their journey home.
I had been building up to this occasion for a while – actually, years – as I gained experience and confidence. Just a decade before, I had been someone who tagged along on my husband’s mountain trips. I rarely ventured out alone, even on my local hills. Since then, my knowledge of navigation, weather and the gear I need has improved, and with it my courage to tackle day-long walks and runs on my own. I’ve grown to love the mindfulness and focus of navigation and staying safe, as well as simply immersing myself in the landscape all on my own. I return feeling thoroughly refreshed mentally, even emboldened, with a greater sense of my own strengths and abilities.
I’d also enjoyed many remote camping trips with my husband and friends – but, despite all this, I still had not wild camped on my own.
Most newbies will share at least some of my worries. Would I find a good place to pitch? Would the tent stay up in high winds, and would it keep me warm and dry? What about unexplained noises in the dark? These were the fears of the unknown, but there were further concerns; those I know I share with other women. I worried about stranger danger. For this reason, I chose to avoid camping near or staying in a bothy – again, despite having enjoyed using bothies with friends and family. Rationally, I knew it was unlikely I would encounter another person in the place I hoped to camp, so far from houses and roads. And, if I did, I doubted they would be threatening. But there was a tiny, nagging ‘what if ’ – and the knowledge that as a woman I could be vulnerable to another person’s greater strength. By contrast, my husband tells me he never worries about strangers when solo camping.
In reality, my concerns were unfounded. As night fell and I walked, guided by the light of the moon and my head torch, I felt the same sense of calm and purpose that accompanies my day trips. I may have had only myself to rely on, but I also had no one else to answer to. I set up my tent and overnight kit and I was reassured to discover I had remembered everything I needed.
I ate a filling meal, sipped a little whisky and enjoyed a wonderfully peaceful evening. I woke only once during the night.
Walking out the following day after my first solo wild camp success, I really did feel different. It may seem a small thing to those more experienced, but being on my own somewhere new, overcoming my doubts and fears had given me a boost of selfconfidence. I knew that the next solo camp would be less daunting, and I was excited by the prospect of future outings on my own. I wouldn’t need to wait for others – I could go it alone.
I still smile to myself when I think about that first solo night in the mountains. I may have taken my time to discover the joys of wild camping; but, then again, making our own personal journeys of discovery is a big part of what the outdoors is all about. I still have the sense that other women might struggle to do solo walks, runs and overnight wild camps, just as
I did. The nerves are real; it feels important to acknowledge that, as well as the empowerment that comes from working through them.