It started so much younger than it should have. At eleven years old, with a sister just two years my senior, walking through our neighborhood sometimes meant catcalls and whistles from grown men in passing cars. At such a tender age I wasn't sure exactly what it meant but I knew it felt nefarious and that I didn’t like it. It didn’t take me long to realize that if I tucked my very long blonde hair up into a baseball cap, the uncomfortable looks and whistling stopped.
Long before I ever realized I’d grow up to be a super gay lady, it was intensely obvious that I did not appreciate the sexual attention of men. So, I adapted. My clothes got baggier, my hair got shorter, and even my body language grew to be more masculine.
By the time I got to college, and partially thanks to my severe lack of curves, I was often “warned” by strangers that I was entering the wrong restroom. It was usually polite and easily remedied by the use of my still very feminine voice. It wasn’t until the politicization of transphobia in the US, which blasted bathroom bills all over social media and the 24-hour news cycles, that those “warnings” became more aggressive. More than once they escalated into assault.
Regardless, the attention from men has almost completely waned and I've found an incredible sense of safety hiding securely off the entire gender’s sexual radar. My whiteness and CIS-gendered-ness comes with the privilege of simply using my voice in public restrooms to deescalate gender-based harassment. My whiteness and ability to be mistaken as male when desired grants me the privilege of walking alone after dark and hiking solo. It creates a cushion that has led me to feel very safe alone in the backcountry for weeks at a time.
I've been called everything from "bud," and "son," to "sir" when passing other hikers. I find great relief from anxiety knowing that I appear male at a distance. All the ways and techniques women use for self-preservation when we are made to feel uncomfortable are still at my disposal; but, through some magic masc loophole, I avoid needing them 90% of the time.
I have spent the last 5 years backpacking regularly, most often going solo with the exception of a tiny dog. People in the front country are usually shocked. They ask me if I carry a gun. They ask me if I want to be introduced to a male friend they know who hikes. They ask me how I could be so foolish. Some even tell me to stop. I don’t usually have the time or desire to explain to them that by presenting masculine I can hide in plain sight and have rarely been made to feel unsafe in the wilderness. Yet, perhaps I should.
Perhaps through having those exact kinds of conversations I can parlay my privilege into advocacy for those who cannot simply change their appearance or body language to protect themselves. My transgender brothers and sisters still face discrimination for simply trying to pee in a public toilet. BIPOC individuals, female identifying individuals, and humans all across the LGBTQIA+ spectrum who love the outdoors can more often than not fear for their safety while camping, hiking, backpacking, fishing or simply existing in remote areas.
That needs to change and it needs to change now. While I don’t possess the perfect solution, I do possess a voice and acknowledge the privileges society grants me that are not granted to others. I am happy to lend my privilege to others who feel unsafe and walk with them wherever they feel they may need it. I would also love to learn how I can do more.
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11 comments
Janet A
Me….69 year old white female, 5’ tall. That makes me a pretty vulnerable target. Yes, I feel a bit nervous when I pass a man or a group of men. But actually…….
• Most muggers/rapists/creeps are not going to go deep into the wilderness. I feel safer in the woods than I do on most city streets.
• I may be a small female, but trust me, when I’m hiking I look like a 12 year old boy whose been left unsupervised……with my mis-matched layers, ball cap, baggy clothes, and dirty sweaty face. My gear is the only thing of value and I don’t think guys who appreciate it would likely be the kind to steal it.
•To me, the scariest things out there are bears, snakes, spiders, and poison ivy!
Kate
I have always wished I could present as male. Sadly by the time I was 15 my substantial curves made that impossible.
The reason that so many women are wary when traveling alone is that in everyday life we encounter sexism and harassment far too frequently. Even on the trail we encounter a few guys who are too pushy and that confirms our wariness. To those guys who have thought about it and are pleasant but not pushy, thank you, it’s appreciated.
Not a YT Person
It’s also sad you all cannot validate Mandy’s experience, every excuse in the book is being made, when in reality, none of you walk in their shoes.
You should continue to be nice, but that doesn’t give you permission to invalidate another person’s fears and lived experience.
If you preach kindness, then have some empathy
And to the person stating “conservancy statistics”, assaults are underreported and many go unreported, just because it hasn’t happened to you does not mean it is not happening.
As a BIPOC hiker, we have similar fears, the history of the outdoors has not been kind to us in this country and others so before you are so quick to criticize, listen, and try to understand where someone else is coming from who did not have your upbringing, resources or luck of not having to live with extra fears when traveling solo.
Hiker33
As an older, solo male hiker I usually smile and say hello to others I meet on the trail. Many solo women don’t acknowledge me, and that’s fine. But do women find a man smiling and saying hello to be creepier than one who just ignores them? I’ve always assumed that if I didn’t appear to be friendly then the women might wonder what I was thinking.
J
Grant H.
Like Pat P. I find it sad that women need to be cautious of men on the trail. I often will just smile, wave and walk on quickly so as not to appear threatening by simply stopping to chat, as I might to a male or a group.
Melissa
As a 60yo female who has hiked and backpacked solo for 40+ years I find it unfortunate that some women feel so unsafe on the trail. Like Pat, I greet every hiker I pass and get a response from nearly all. I’m no more or less cautious on the trail than I am in other environs and try to always maintain situational awareness. If I’m uncomfortable with someone on the trail I move on. I too have friends who seem overly concerned about my solo travels, but try to reassure them I am no less safe than if I was walking alone anywhere else.
Marianne
I too present “masculine” and have since my late teens (tomboy as a kid, gay gal as an adult) and I also soon learned that it gave me a lot more security and autonomy to be in the world in the ways I wanted to be, without getting unsolicited/unwanted male attention. The guy that posted about being able to “tell” someone’s gender has totally missed the point, and it doesn’t at all signal understanding of, or even an attempt to understand, this person’s experience. Women learn really early how to read signals and vibes from even seemingly friendly men out of absolute necessity for survival, and yeah, it’s more than “sad” that we have to do this, it’s indicative of a society that tolerates male aggression toward women as the norm. Just imagine how exhausting it is to have to constantly adjust your actions and responses toward men seeking contact, even the most seemingly benign contact, because it can too often happen that if you don’t wish for that contact and let that be known, the man gets angry, sometimes violently so.
Tim
You can tell immediately by how they walk. In my mid 70s I have a few years of experience and have never been wrong on the trails.
Pat P
Thanks for sharing this. I’m a friendly guy, who says “Hi” or even just a “Sup” to every hiker I pass. A while ago, I tended to notice that female hikers (either alone or in groups), rarely said hi back. After thinking about it, and talking to others, I realized that it was out of fear or caution. It is really sad that they can’t even give a friendly hello back, for fear of send the wrong “signal” to a male hiker.
Nick S
I can relate to the feeling of safety while solo backpacking. I’ve had top surgery, been on T for almost 10 years, and present strongly as male even with my skinny, 5’6" physique. Got one of my best complements from a couple of young, burly guys camping downstream from me: “Dude, you’re a beast!” LOL
Hike-On!