She Goes Alone: The Real Story of Solo Female Adventure Travel
Photo by Photo by Brandy Urstadt on Unsplash on Unsplash
Before Diane Chen booked her solo backpacking trip through the canyon country of southern Utah, she spent three weeks reading horror stories online. Warnings about being a woman alone in remote areas. Comments about what could go wrong. By the time she actually hit the trail, she'd nearly talked herself out of going entirely.
Seven days later, she emerged from the backcountry with a completely different relationship to fear — and to herself.
"The thing nobody tells you," she said, "is that the hardest part isn't the trail. It's getting past everyone else's anxiety about you going."
Diane's experience isn't unusual. Across the United States and beyond, more women are choosing to explore solo — and the conversation around female solo travel is finally starting to shift from "should you?" to "here's how." This piece is firmly in the second camp.
Let's Talk About the Fear (And Where It Actually Comes From)
The concern about solo female travel is real and it deserves honest engagement — not dismissal. Women do face specific safety considerations that men statistically don't have to think about as much. Pretending otherwise would be both dishonest and unhelpful.
But here's where the conversation gets complicated: a significant portion of the fear surrounding women traveling alone is disproportionate to actual risk, shaped more by cultural anxiety and media coverage than by statistical reality. Studies consistently show that violent crime against tourists — male or female — is far less common than popular perception suggests, particularly in outdoor recreation contexts.
Journalist and adventure traveler Priya Nair, who has solo hiked in twelve states including remote sections of the Pacific Crest Trail and the Colorado Trail, puts it plainly: "The danger that people imagine for me is almost never the danger I actually encounter. What I encounter is the occasional creep at a trailhead, bad weather I wasn't prepared for, and my own mental resistance when things get hard. Those are all manageable. The imaginary dangers are harder to deal with because they're infinite."
This isn't about minimizing legitimate risks. It's about calibrating them accurately — because inaccurate risk assessment doesn't keep you safer. It just keeps you home.
The Myths Worth Dismantling
Myth #1: Remote outdoor spaces are more dangerous for solo women.
In reality, most outdoor safety incidents are related to weather, navigation errors, medical emergencies, and equipment failure — not gender-specific threats. The backcountry doesn't care about your gender. It does care whether you're prepared.
Myth #2: You need a partner to be safe.
A partner can provide backup in emergencies, absolutely. But solo travelers often argue they're more alert and careful when traveling alone, precisely because they can't rely on anyone else. Solo hiking has produced some of the most accomplished and safety-conscious outdoor adventurers in history.
Myth #3: Other people (especially locals) can't be trusted.
Veteran solo traveler and outdoor educator Keisha Morales, who has spent years leading wilderness trips across the American West, notes that her experience has been the opposite: "When I'm alone, people go out of their way to help me. Trail communities, small towns near national parks, campground neighbors — most people are genuinely kind. The paranoid version of the world you see online isn't the world I've actually traveled through."
Building Real Confidence, Not Fake Bravado
Confidence in solo adventure travel isn't something you manufacture through sheer willpower. It's built incrementally, through experience and preparation. Here's a framework that experienced solo female adventurers consistently recommend:
Start closer to home than you think you need to. Your first solo adventure doesn't have to be a month in the wilderness. A solo weekend camping trip two hours from your front door builds the same foundational skills — navigation, self-reliance, problem-solving — in a lower-stakes environment. Nail that, then expand your radius.
Get genuinely competent at the skills that matter. Navigation (real navigation, not just phone GPS), first aid, weather reading, and basic mechanical knowledge for whatever vehicle you're driving. Competence is the foundation confidence is built on. There's no shortcut.
Build a communication system you actually trust. A Garmin inReach or SPOT satellite communicator is one of the best investments a solo outdoor adventurer — of any gender — can make. Tell someone your detailed itinerary. Check in regularly. This isn't about fear; it's about smart logistics.
Learn to trust your instincts — and act on them. Multiple experienced solo female travelers emphasize this above almost everything else. If a situation feels wrong, leave it. You don't owe anyone an explanation. The ability to act on your gut without second-guessing yourself is a skill, and it gets sharper the more you practice it.
The Transformation Nobody Warned You About
Here's the part that doesn't make it into the safety guides: solo travel changes you in ways that are genuinely hard to explain to people who haven't done it.
When you navigate a challenging trail alone, make every decision yourself, manage your fear, solve your own problems, and come out the other side — something fundamental shifts in how you see your own capabilities. It's not about proving anything to anyone. It's about discovering what you're actually made of when there's nobody else to lean on.
Through-hiker and adventure blogger Camille Ostrowski describes her first solo section hike on the Appalachian Trail as "the most terrifying and most important thing I've ever done. I cried on day two because I was scared. I cried on day seven because I didn't want it to end. Whatever I was looking for, I found it — and I found it specifically because I was alone."
Practical Groundwork: Getting Your First Solo Trip Off the Ground
For the woman reading this who's been sitting on a solo trip idea for months (or years), here's the practical checklist:
- Pick a destination with established infrastructure for your first trip — a well-marked trail system, a campground with hosts nearby, cell service at the trailhead. You can go wilder as your confidence grows.
- Budget realistically. Solo travel can actually be cheaper than group trips — one tent, one food plan, your timeline, your pace. You're not splitting costs, but you're also not compromising on anything.
- Join communities before you go. Facebook groups like "Women Who Hike" and Reddit communities like r/solotravel have thousands of women sharing real, current, specific advice. These communities are invaluable for trip-specific intelligence.
- Gear up thoughtfully, not fearfully. Good gear makes hard things manageable. A comfortable pack, reliable navigation tools, and a solid shelter system matter far more than any personal defense product.
The Permission You Don't Need (But Here It Is Anyway)
Nobody needs to give you permission to go. But if you've been waiting for a sign, consider this it.
The trails are out there. The canyons, the mountain passes, the long stretches of highway leading somewhere you've never been. The version of yourself that exists on the other side of a solo adventure is worth meeting.
Stop waiting for a companion to be ready. Go find out what you're made of.