The wild doesn’t care about your gender. The mountains don’t lower themselves for your comfort, and the trail doesn’t ask your permission before it climbs. In nature, everything is earned. And for women navigating the outdoors — whether hiking solo, setting up camp, fishing alpine lakes, or glassing ridgelines for elk — the journey can be both soul-shaking and quietly exhausting in ways few talk about.
Because here’s the truth: being a woman in the outdoors is hard. Not because we’re not capable — but because there are plenty of extra obstacles we have to surmount before we even hit the trail.
The Subtle Weight of Being “The Only One”
Whether it’s pulling into a remote trailhead parking lot or walking into a hunting camp of all men, there’s often a moment — a beat — where you scan the scene and realize: I’m the only woman here.
That feeling is hard to explain if you haven’t lived it. It’s not fear exactly. It’s something deeper and quieter — the mental calculation of whether you’ll be taken seriously, whether you’re safe, whether you have to prove yourself again.
It’s prepping your gear perfectly, not just for survival but so no one can question your experience. It’s over-researching the route, rehearsing your answers, and double-checking your GPS so when someone throws a condescending comment your way, you’re ready.
We Carry More Than Our Packs
There’s the physical load, sure. But we also carry a load that men in the outdoors often don’t have to think about.
We carry the risk of being underestimated, judged, sexualized, or dismissed. We carry the burden of being told to “be careful” not just because of the terrain, but because of our gender. We carry pepper spray and pocket knives and “just in case” texts. We carry the tension between independence and vulnerability — knowing that choosing solitude can sometimes come with a cost.
Gear Isn’t Built for Us — But We Make It Work
From hunting vests to hiking boots, most outdoor gear is still designed with men in mind. Too big, too boxy, too blue. For years, we’ve had to adapt — to make do with ill-fitting gear or search endlessly for companies that recognize that yes, women need technical outerwear too.
And when we do show up in gear that fits — maybe even looks good — we’re sometimes accused of caring more about aesthetics than ability. As if you can’t look good and know how to field dress a deer.
Let’s Talk About When Mother Nature Calls…
Men have it easy in terms of relieving themselves in the outdoors. We have to be more thoughtful of where we relieve ourselves so we don’t catch our boots or get splash back. Another key thing to watch out for is what you are peeing on – nothing worse than some poison oak on your lady bits. And don’t even get me started on that time of the month. Hiking, camping and hunting on your period can be a pain. I find that the fresh air and physical exertion can help with my cramps, but always worrying about leaking can add extra anxiety.
Despite these being extra hurdles; they’re all easily surmountable with practice and some extra planning. I always pack a small bathroom bag to make sure I’m prepared.
The Outdoors is Still a Boys’ Club — But That’s Changing
Look at most major outdoor media, hunting shows, or gear catalogs. The representation of women is growing, but we’re still often a token — the “girl who can keep up” or the “wife who tagged along.” Rarely are we shown leading the charge, navigating solo, or mentoring the next generation.
But here’s the good news: women are claiming more space. From solo hikers sharing unfiltered stories to all-female hunting camps to women-led conservation efforts, there’s a quiet movement happening. We’re no longer waiting to be invited — we’re building our own backcountry tables.
It’s Worth It Anyway
For all the extra weight, the awkward moments, and the subtle exclusions — I wouldn’t trade it. There’s a freedom in the wild that nothing else touches. There’s a quiet confidence that builds every time you do something hard alone. And there’s a deep kind of healing that happens when you walk through the woods and realize you don’t need permission to be there.
Being a woman in the outdoors is hard — yes. But it’s also sacred. It’s powerful. And it’s ours.
So if you’ve ever felt like you don’t belong out here, I want you to know: you do. The wild is for you, too. And you don’t have to change who you are to claim it.
You just have to keep going.