How the Challenges of Solo Adventure Changed My Life

Explorer Tayla has become accustomed to people warning her about the dangers of solo hiking, but undertaking lone adventures has continually reminded her that none of life’s challenges are insurmountable.

I’ve always enjoyed being outdoors. It recharges a battery that nothing else seems to power. I’ve been lucky enough in this life to find myself with friends who also love hiking and camping.

I’ve also been blessed with friends who have humoured my love of the outdoors one step further and followed me off the beaten track ‘for an adventure’. (There’s only a few times when I’ve failed to get us back before dark.)

For as long as I remember I’ve chased the magic I know exists in the quiet and untrekked parts of the wilderness. It’s my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Peace and quiet

You stop and gaze out over an expanse of seemingly untouched wilderness and take a breath, allowing yourself to feel the magnificence and power of Mother Nature. It penetrates your soul. That’s the feeling I’ve always craved. That’s the magic.

However, over the years the number of friends who could join me on an adventure slowly dwindled.

So, I did. I started solo adventuring – and it was one the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Don’t get me wrong, I still LOVE going with friends. But the challenges of solo exploring have taught me an immense amount about myself and helped me realise that I really don’t need to wait for anyone else to achieve something, which is a lesson I’ve put into action in other parts of my life.

I’ve always been pretty self-confident, willing to give anything a go even if I’m a little out of my depth.

Whether I want a biscuit or an adventure, gotta risk it

However, I do have a healthy level of self-doubt – which usually rears its head when I’m halfway through trying to do something new I’ve decided to pursue…

I also have an adequate level of self-preservation. So running off into the wilderness as a lone female always brings with it that niggling thought that screams, ‘Remember the violence against women epidemic?!’.

Read more: Why I’ll Always Choose the Bear

While these thoughts still linger, I’m grateful to have persevered on that first solo adventure all those years ago as it helped me realise that thoughts of doubt and fear don’t actually reflect what I’m capable of doing. Those thoughts are trying to keep me safe in my comfort zone.

While every person who ventures into the wilderness alone is sure to have their own experience, there are some benefits that never fail to transpire every time I disappear for a trip.

A definite benefit is taking in a view all for yourself

Remembering My Potential

We all forget what we’re capable of at times, particularly when we’re going through a rough patch in life, so it’s important to do things that remind us of our potential. I recently abruptly left an unhealthy relationship, which left my mental health in tatters and my bank account in arrears.

I’d forgotten who I was, and while I was trying to mend my heart and life (while doubting it was even possible), I took advantage of a $38 flight and dragged myself down to Tasmania on a solo trek.

Me on Cradle Mountain

Being alone in nature forces you to confront uncomfortable thoughts around whatever situation you’re facing at that point in life, whether personal, financial, or professional. Without any distractions, the silence of solidarity forces us to face the things we sometimes like to bury and pretend aren’t there.

No matter how well-planned you are, the unpredictability of the outdoors means you’ll usually still run into some form of challenge, be it physical exhaustion, extreme temperatures, resource issues, safety issues, injuries, navigation, or mental challenges. (I remember running into a family of black bears while hiking the backcountry in Canada, which had me thinking on my feet real quick!)

Solo adventures remind me of my strength

It reminds me that I have the strength and ability within me to overcome whatever I may be facing in my life. The little voice that whispers up from my heart that says, ‘Yes you can’, suddenly reappears and drowns out the voice in my head that yells, ‘No you can’t’.

The night before I was to set off on my trek in Tasmania, I was in a bar and a group of locals were astounded when I told them I was attempting it alone. They asked me if I had any climbing or trekking experience and warned me that it was dangerous. But off I went the next day anyway. It was difficult and dangerous at times, but I still completed it.

This kind of reaction from others has become a recurring theme. Prior to heading off on a solo trip, I’m usually met with stares from friends and colleagues who look at me like I’m crazy.

But I always seem to return with a feeling that no problem is too big to handle.

Witnessing the grandiosity of Mother Nature puts some of my problems into perspective and reminds me that there’s so much of the world that I’m yet to experience.

Reducing Anxiety and Stress

A solo hike will also do wonders for your anxiety and stress levels. Science will back me up here, as spending time in nature has been proven to facilitate the release of serotonin.

Hiking up the side of a mountain alone not only gives you a dose of the happy hormone, it helps you break out of negative thought patterns too.

As busy people dealing with multiple issues at once, we often lack presence in our daily lives and are constantly worrying about the future (or the past!). But while climbing or navigating your way up a mountain, you have no choice but to be present, at the risk of falling off the edge or getting lost! For me, the physical act of hiking has become a form of meditation and mindfulness, helping me to be present and break out of rumination.

It’s a Bit of Type 2 Fun

Type 1 Fun is present in hiking, of course. The views on a clear day are a great example of this. But Type 2 Fun is an ever-present partner on a solo adventure. This is the fun that you don’t realise you’re having while you’re trekking alone up an incline, in negative temperatures, while it rains, and the view is obscured by fog.

A bit of mist won’t fog up my trip

It’s not until you’re back home in your warm, cosy bed, post-hot shower, that hindsight makes you realise that experience was kind of fun, because you still made it to the top of the damn mountain!

I’ll probably continue to receive odd looks when I tell people I’m going into the wild, solo, but that’s ok. I’ll still continue to advocate for it, because the positive effects it’s had on my life have far outweighed any possible downside.