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Solo Camping Trips Led Me To My Wild Self
Connecting with nature has helped me connect with myself
Last year, I started going on solo camping trips.
I can’t remember how the idea came to me. It may have been as simple as needing to find a use for my old Subaru Forester, spurred on by watching YouTube videos of clever DIY conversions. I decided I, too, could have a one-person camper as simple or elaborate as I fancied. It also occurred to me that my one-person camper could be a means of regular stays in the country minus Airbnb fees.
I had always thought of camping as something you do with other people, and a set of willing companions wasn’t something I could readily conjure up. I had also doubted my ability to pull together the necessary equipment. What kind of tent do I get? Do I need those gas cylinders for cooking?
And far from being an adventurous type, getting out of my comfort zone and exposing myself to all manner of calamity was something risk-averse me was quite happy to leave to others.
But something had stirred, and suddenly, camping wasn’t just within my reach but something I needed to do. Going solo was not an impediment but part of the appeal: the realisation that I could do this alone was thrilling in itself.
