I started Third Coast Hikes to celebrate the outdoors in Chicago, the Midwest and generally the Great Lakes region. I chose to focus here because it is where I live and where I have always lived. The outdoors industry tends to forget that the Midwest exists, even though we have thousands of miles of shoreline, rivers, lakes, migrating birds of all kinds, and rare plants you can’t find anywhere else. Third Coast Hikes is all about celebrating the outdoors right here where we live. I am based in Chicago, so that is where my focus is centered.
Because of this Third Coast Hikes is proud to stand in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement. I acknowledge that people of color don’t always have safe and equal access to the outdoors in the region. People of color have systemically been pushed away from our outdoors spaces using racist policies, laws, policing, and the bad attitudes of a vocal minority of white people and those of us who chose silence over conflict. The outdoors industry in particular has a largely white and male focus when highlighting those who enjoy hiking, backpacking, camping, birding, fishing and other activities that have nothing to do with skin color.
Moving forward Third Coast Hikes will do a better job of highlighting the stories of BIPOC Midwesterners who enjoy and support our outdoors spaces, and work to support organizations that create access to the outdoors for those who may not otherwise be able to access them.
If you are a white person I want to encourage you to educate yourself on issues facing people of color in the outdoors, and how you can work to create a more equitable space for people of all backgrounds. The Melanin Base Camp Guide To Outdoor Allyship is a good place to start. In acknowledging the inequality that people of color face in the outdoors, I am using my privilege to support the work of the following organizations, by donating directly to their causes. I invite you to join me in supporting their work because it is true that until everyone is equal, no one is.
Chicago Voyagers – This organization empowers at-risk youth through outdoor experiences and adventures that foster healthy relationships and responsible behavior. They provide real-life canoeing, hiking, cross country skiing, rock climbing, river trips and camping to over 400 Chicago area teens each year.
Melanin Base Camp – Which has been working to increase the visibility of outdoorsy Black, indigenous and people of color since 2016. Their #DiversityOutdoors campaign does not shy away from sensitive topics of race or gender, but does so in a way that creates a safe space for people with marginalized identities.
Outdoor Afro – Helps people take better care of themselves, our communities and the planet. They are working in 30 states around the country to connect Black people with nature and changing the face of leadership in the outdoors.
I’m the voice behind Third Coast Hikes. I started this blog shortly after I went on my first backpacking trip in 2017. Part of my motivation was so that I would have a place to post photos and notes from my own trips, and part of the reason was because I couldn’t find an ultralight blog focused on where I live.
I have lived my whole life in Illinois. I grew up in Central Illinois, outside Spring Valley, on 100 acres of second-growth woodland. I spent summers jumping fences, climbing trees, examining wildflowers and exploring the creeks that ran through my backyard. In 2006 I moved to Chicago to attend Columbia College, where I obtained my Bachelor’s degree in journalism. I moved to Chicago permanently in 2010 and have worked as a journalist, writer and nonprofit fundraiser since then.
Backpacking is the best way I have ever found to connect with nature since I moved away from the woods, but it’s not the easiest thing to do in Chicago. Not impossible, just not simple. Connecting with nature is valuable to every person, especially in urban areas. Most days in Chicago I can get along just fine without a car, but having one makes it easier to access hiking trails and nature preserves. My car is a 1994 Ford Thunderbird, which is both awesome and impractical. It’s not getting any younger, and I don’t want to buy a new car. I do, however, want to keep visiting nature long after the day my car stops running.
In late 2019 I sat down to figure out what hiking trails and natural spaces I could visit using just the transit system Chicago is blessed to have. In my research I found dozens of places to connect with nature, that anyone can visit using just our transit system. That became my first book “Chicago Transit Hikes: A guide to getting out in nature without a car” which was released through Belt Publishing in May 2020.
Today I am a freelance writer, editor, naturalist, gardener, and green transit advocate living on Chicago’s Northwest side. Most days you can find me in my backyard, hiking in the Cook County Forest Preserves, or biking throughout the city.
Check me out on Instagram @ThirdCoastHikes, where I post pictures of the natural world I see around me; or you can find me on Twitter @WritingWelbers where mostly I yell about how we need more bike lanes.
Guys, I’m not entirely sure I’ve ever properly introduced myself. My name is Lindsay Welbers and I’m a freelance writer living in Chicago’s Jefferson Park neighborhood. My husband and I moved up here in June 2019, after nine years living in the same apartment in Logan Square. We were attracted to the access this neighborhood had to public transit, I’m a 10-15 minute walk away from two Metra lines, the Blue Line, and a ton of CTA and Pace buses. Also, the forest preserves are up here and that’s as close as you can get to wilderness in the city of Chicago. White tailed deer screw up traffic about as often as the Metra does up here.
That’s what inspired me to write “Chicago Transit Hikes: A guide to getting out in nature without a car.” I was in a new place, and I wanted to know what natural spaces I could find. This book is a guide for anyone interested in getting out into nature, without the use of a car. All the hikes in this book are accessible from a train. I tried to make it as useful as possible for as many people as possible, so there should be something for everyone in this book. That includes families with little kids in strollers, people with mobility concerns, and people like myself who prefer a rugged and disconnected hike.
The differences in the natural landscapes of Logan Square
and Jefferson Park are subtle but clear. I knew how to find nature when I lived
in Logan Square, that was easy. I lived between Palmer Square, The 606 and Humboldt
Boulevard, so the natural world felt in many ways fully integrated into the
pace of my life. Those are all places I traveled through on my commute, and
they’re major pedestrian thoroughfares. They are vibrant natural spaces full of
people any day of the year.
Here in Jefferson Park, it’s a little different. In
Jefferson Park the nature lives in people’s yards, trees and forest preserves. You
have to step into the residential areas to find nature. There aren’t places
like Humboldt Boulevard to stroll, or The 606 to easily bike. Instead nature is
accessed from people’s backyards. The pace is slower and the natural landscape reflects
that. Palmer Square is full of sculptures and the occasional guerilla swing
set. Jefferson Park is full of gardens, lawns and most of the swing sets are
behind fences. That said it is gorgeous up here. My home office overlooks my
backyard and I probably saw a dozen different types of birds today alone. Also,
I’m pretty sure there’s an opossum living in my backyard. So I feel #Blessed
about that.
My very favorite way to really connect with nature is to backpack across what wilderness we were smart enough to keep that way, but I still live in the city. It’s where my friends are, it’s where I work, it’s where my husband works. I’ve lived my whole life in Illinois, and the entire time I’ve been exploring and trying to better understand our natural landscape. It helps to be able to walk in nature. There’s something about looking in 360 degrees and seeing nothing but oak trees and tallgrass prairies on all sides of you that acts as a salve for the too-connected world we live in. We all haven’t got the time, skills or desire that it takes to wander into the remote corners of the country, like I enjoy doing. There are a few campgrounds in this book, which make it pretty easy to immerse yourself in nature without having to travel too far. The rest of the hikes in this book are more like day hikes, so you can sleep in your own bed at night. Chicago sits at a place of unrivaled beauty in the Great Lakes region, my goal with this book was to show my neighbors how to see that beauty, using the transit system we already have.
That feeling of drinking hot coffee when all the air around you is about 52 tops.
I have wanted to go camping solo for a number of years. Suddenly, I had the time. My schedule opened up in an unexpected way and I made the decision to extend my time at Buckhorn State Park to stay a few nights by myself. I loved it immensely.
That feeling when you’re drinking cocoa at the end of a lovely day all by yourself when the air around you is back down to 52 again and it’s going to be dark in about 20 minutes.
I did not prepare to go camping solo in any way that was
notably different than how I would normally go camping, except for a few
things.
I kept my phone turned on and nearby at all times. Normally, the idea is to get as far away from 21st century communiques as possible, which means turning off your phone when you get to the trailhead and leaving it in your bag until you get back to the trailhead. I can get away with this because normally I’m out with my husband, and he keeps his phone on him throughout the trip. It felt like it would be irresponsible for me to completely disconnect myself, while also camping half a mile away from my car, in the middle of nowhere, where I am a strange lady camping by herself. Mostly I used it to watch the weather. I had daily check-ins with someone back in civilization so I was not quite as far off the grid as I would normally go.
My campsite was only .4 miles from my car. Car camping is straight-up more convenient than backpacking. There’s a reason that there are more car campers than backpackers. For one, you’ve got a mobile, fortified living room. The first night I was out there by myself storms rolled through just after dark. Wind gusts were north of 20 mph, and I was directly on a river so the force of water was a concern. I would be a liar if I didn’t tell you I was running over in my mind how quickly I could get to my car if I absolutely had to. (I never had to. It was great.)
I wore a big, scary, knife on my belt. Hello, I’m a somewhat short blonde woman camping by herself. It is my natural element and where I belong. I’ve spent a lot of time in my life alone in the woods and it is a deeply comfortable place to be. The trouble starts when other people don’t see things the same way that I do and might consider me to be a target, or equally bad, in need of assistance that I don’t need. Let me tell you, no one wants to chit chat with the woman wearing a big scary knife.
Number three may or may not have been necessary, to be honest.
My friend stayed with me at the site on Friday and Saturday nights. She left
around 10 a.m. Sunday morning and I don’t think I saw another soul for about 36
hours. I walked all over the rolling oak barrens where the hiking trails near the
South Campgrounds are and don’t think I saw anyone else until Monday afternoon.
The loud campers who had been staying at the adjacent sites went home on
Sunday, and the rain all day kept most (all?) day-hikers far away from where I
was. I wanted to be left alone in the woods, and by gum I got it.
Wild raspberries tho. <3
Rain most of Sunday kept me in my tent. I read and read and
read. I listened to the sounds of the rain on the tent. When it wasn’t raining
I walked and observed the fungi. I stared at the river as it gently rolled
past. I watched the clouds change shape and color and density. All of these
things took too much of my time and attention, so I didn’t even bother with a
campfire. Instead, I watched the sun set, and huddled back in my tent when storms
rolled through again that evening.
Backpacking dinner of packet chicken and broccoli chicken pasta side.
The storms were loud and wind was gusting above 20 miles per
hour. It did something similar the night before, but my friend was there with
me. This particular night, and this particular storm was my first solo night
out and I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t running through all the horror
movie scenarios in my head. What if that rustling outside wasn’t a raccoon,
but instead a murdering madman I hadn’t noticed all day for some reason. How quickly
could I run to the car from here? Could I carry anything or would it just be
best to bolt with the keys and my cell phone? Around 11 p.m. the rain stopped
and regular night sounds began. I fell asleep.
You know that spot where the open prairie abuts the forest? That’s the best spot.
Monday morning was glorious and bright, without a cloud in
the sky. The day’s temperatures probably peaked around 75 and the sun more or
less dried out everything in camp by that afternoon. If the rain Saturday and
Sunday kept crowds away, the work week caused them to disappear completely. I
hiked the remaining trails that I hadn’t yet visited on the south end of the
park. I was able to spot this handsome Bufo Americanus and had a brief commune
with a legless lizard. (A legless lizard, NOT a snake.)
A legless lizard! Not a snake!
I stopped in to speak with the rangers (to get help
identifying what I learned was a Common Woodcock that
had alighted in my camp the night before). This was probably the first person I
had seen since my friend left around 10 a.m. Sunday morning. Later I ran into two
day hikers on the trail. Basically, I went looking for a solo outdoors
adventure and I found one. I was able to explore miles of hiking trails,
shoreline, oak barrens and sand blows without running into another human. I
encountered legless lizards, toads, frogs, songbirds, grasshoppers, dragonflies
and whitetail deer without another ape for miles. I observed acorns fall from
branches and land on the ground, just to be carried off by a squirrel who will
either eat it or hide it and forget about it, allowing it to turn into an oak
tree. I remembered that it was the equinox as I watched the sun setting due
west. I read every page of every book I brought and fell asleep.
So that’s what the sun did at the equinox.
I genuinely think I sleep better on the ground, you guys.
On Tuesday I had a leisurely morning around camp. The sun
was out, and I hoped I could encourage some of the water to evaporate from the
rain fly before I packed up my tent (partial success). Truthfully, I probably
would have just stayed at Buckhorn a few more nights. I was rested for the for time
in what felt like a long time, refreshed, renewed by the sun and the rain. I
think sometimes you have to spend a few days outside just to hit the reset
button on your personal body clock. It’s good to realign it with the natural
light cycles. However, I was running low on food and I had read all of my
books. Also, I think my husband was starting to miss me.
Tons of rain all weekend. Learn to love it, or quit
Before I left I hiked the trails on the north end of the
park. This is where the fishing pond is stocked with fish and kids are
encouraged to cast a line. It’s also where the group campsites are found. There
are about 5 miles of hiking trails on the north end of the park, they make up
fully half the hiking trails within the park itself. You won’t hear me say a
nasty word about the pines or the gently rolling oaks on this end of the park,
but if seclusion and a landscape similar to natural Wisconsin, stick to the
southern end of the park.
Accessibility in the outdoors was on my mind while I was writing up my thoughts on Marengo Ridge Conservation Area Thomas Woods Campground, I remembered how well built the trails were, and that these are some of the most ADA-friendly trails in the Chicago area.
Marengo Ridge Conservation Area has some of the most accessible trails in the Chicago area.
You know how you feel when you’re walking down the trail and it’s quiet and peaceful and maybe it’s a challenging hike but it’s fine because you’re achieved your zen state? You leave feeling tired and refreshed and renewed. That’s pretty much the same for everybody, regardless of their physical abilities. It’s one of the things that makes us human. Unfortunately, not everyone can get into the outdoors easily. I want to think a little bit on making the outdoors accessible to everyone. While ADA-accessible campgrounds and playgrounds do exist, we’ve got a long way to go before we live in an outdoor space that is welcoming and accessible to every American.
The Americans with Disabilities Act was passed in 1990 and requires that all state and local governments must make any building accessible when designing, building, altering, buying, renting, or leasing it. It also reaffirms that agencies are not required to change the character of a wilderness area to make it accessible, but it does protect the rights of anyone using a wheelchair to access that wilderness area. Since 1990 the Forest Service has focused on creating accessible spaces any time facilities are built or renovated, or programming is created. The intention is that anyone who wants to experience outdoor recreation on America’s public lands should have an equal opportunity to do so.
Why accessibility matters:
Accessibility in the outdoors was on my mind while I was writing up my thoughts on Marengo Ridge Conservation Area Thomas Woods Campground, I remembered how well built the trails were, and that these are some of the most ADA-friendly trails in the Chicago area. That was information I wanted to pass onto my younger sister, who before graduating college spent the summer working at a camp for special needs kids and adults in the Prairie du Chien region of Wisconsin. The camp where she worked caters to individuals of all ages with developmental disabilities who want a quality outdoor recreation experience. The camp offers fun, safe and rewarding outdoors programming in a supportive environment to any person with developmental disabilities.
Camp staff administered this supportive and fun programming while simultaneously providing one-on-one care to individual campers. That’s no small task. Individual counselors could be tasked with caring for the needs of a handful of individuals who each need specialized care that requires a great deal of attention. They provided that care while also escorting people in wheelchairs down the trail, to outdoor events, around camp and the region. Depending on that person’s abilities, they may or may not be able to express their needs easily, and anticipating those needs before they become a problem for the camper isn’t easy. It’s a job for very patient people who are very sensitive to the emotions and needs of others.
If, like myself, you’re a person who does not have a disability it can be tough to understand what barriers to entry exist to getting out into nature. I know what keeps me from getting into nature, and it’s things like having the time to get out or being too far away from expansive park systems. I live in the city, I have a full time job, it can be tough. All those same barriers exist for a person with a disability, but with the added challenge of navigating a difficult landscape, accessing sites that will accommodate their needs and dealing with people who for some reason thinks public lands are not intended for people with disabilities.
One of my sister’s more memorable (and rage-inducing) exchanges occurred when she was hiking in a local state park with a group of campers, one of whom uses a wheelchair. The camper was enamored with the beautiful forests of Southwestern Wisconsin in the summertime, even though this particular park wasn’t really accessible. My sister aided this camper by pushing her wheelchair down the path and helping to navigate the rocky terrain that wasn’t built for wheels. They accommodated other hikers by making sure not to block the trail, to make space for passers by and to be as considerate as they could to their fellow hikers. During the hike my sister helped the camper to use the facilities along the trail. During this time a total stranger apparently felt inconvenienced having to wait a few minutes and as my sister put it “she basically told us we don’t belong here.” The incident left my sister feeling down on herself, and it upset the other hikers in their group that day. I hope that lady left feeling pleased with herself for having bullied a group of disabled hikers on a beautiful summer afternoon for nothing more than the crime of trying to go on a hike.
Beyond that, her argument is nonsense. Ableist, offensive nonsense. America’s public lands are for everyone. (Even that lady, and she sounds insufferable.) Public lands are exactly that – for the public. According to the 2010 census, 54 million people “had a disability that significantly limited one or more major life activities, such as walking, seeing, hearing, breathing, and thinking.” Beyond that, because America’s population is aging rapidly, by 2030 80 million people will be 65 or older. That means day-by-day the number of Americans who live with a disability is increasing.
Almost three million American kids have a disability. That can mean anything from hearing, cognitive, mobility or vision difficulties and probably more beyond that. Just like anyone else, they can reap the benefits we all enjoy from the outdoors and nature. Outdoor recreation has the exact same mental and physical benefits for a non-disabled adult as they do for someone with a disability. It’s our job to make sure everyone has access to the outdoors, regardless of their ability. Does that mean we need to pave the dunes in Ludington, Michigan or lower the grade on Hoosier Hill? No, don’t be ridiculous. When making the decision to construct or alter a building, trail, recreation site that already exists it’s vital to ask “how can we design, purchase or build it to ensure that all people have an equal opportunity to use this facility?” We can make our public lands more accessible to everyone using ecologically sound practices that protect our environment, and allow persons with disabilities to reap the benefits of outdoor recreation.
For folks like me who do not (today, at least) have a disability to contend with, can still help out without being huge jerks. When your local park updates a facility, it will do so in line with the Americans with Disabilities Act, but it can still take public pressure to make sure that new programming is equally accessible. If you know someone who has a disability, invite them on a hike with you and help them to enjoy the outdoors. Have patience when you encounter a fellow hiker who has a disability, and be as courteous as you would with any other hiker you meet. Also, don’t assume that if someone is struggling that they need your help, ask if they want your help first.
In May 2017 Dave and I took a road trip around Lake Michigan. We camped for five nights, somehow entirely in Michigan, and saw three Great Lakes and Green Bay in the process. We put 1,000 miles on my 1994 Ford Thunderbird and she performed like the majestic beast of her namesake throughout (minus a loose battery connector and an aging door hinge.) This was both our first big camping trip together and our first overnight backpacking excursion ever. We wanted to strike a balance between a long, unsupported backpacking trip and the security of car camping. It worked out beautifully, honestly.
Dave and I usually try to take a big trip around Memorial Day with just the two of us. We’re both fortunate to have a lot of family and friends spread all over the country, so most vacations end up overlapping with a wedding or a reunion or we wind up running all over while our friends show us their cool city. Don’t get me wrong, that’s all very rad. But the ideal trip is one where we wander into the woods, cell phones are definitely not useful, we can carry everything we need and wildlife is the only thing that can demand our attention. That’s how we came to backpacking.
I grew up directly in the woods. Our house was set at the edge of 100 acres of pristine, second-growth Illinois woodland. I didn’t know until much later that I was growing up in the most beautiful place in the world, but now I live in an urban environment and I realize what I don’t have. Because we lived in the woods we never really went camping as kids. What was the point when I’m already surrounded by the forest all the time anyway? We did have some experience sleeping rough when we loaned the use of our land to the Boy Scouts every year, but mostly camping was not a major part of my childhood.
Fast forward a few years and I’ve been living in Chicago for almost a decade. Urban canyons are cool and all, don’t get me wrong, but there is a real and tangible connection to the earth that I do not have. Day hikes are helpful, but what I really need is a deep immersive experience, and renting a cabin on AirBnB isn’t cutting it anymore. I announced to Dave that we would become backpackers. Confused but amenable, he agreed.
It worked, too. I still try to find a little bit of the natural world in my day-to-day life but I also know that if need be, I can pack everything I need onto my back, wander into the woods and do just fine for a few days. I know that I can have a deep, immersive outdoor experience that will leave me feeling recharged and the mobility that comes along with backpacking allows me to seclude myself from the other campers. Solitude is one of the major reasons to go to nature. Solitude is so important.
That’s how Third Coast Hikes got started, really. I know I am not the only Midwesterner stuck further from the natural world than she would like to be. Out west backpacking is (I understand) a fairly common way of life. Here in the Upper Midwest and across the Great Lakes region, we are limited by winter. Can you go camping when a polar vortex has landed right on top of everything within a 300 mile radius and you won’t see a double digit temperature for two weeks or more? Yeah, probably. But would you enjoy it and is it worth that? For me, it’s a hard pass. I wanted to create a place where I log the day hikes, camping trips, excellent parks and public lands I visit and share them with others. Illinois really is more than flat, vast cornfields as anyone who has visited Starved Rock State Park can tell you. Besides that, the prairies are some of the most beautiful, richest sources of wildlife available in the U.S., so what’s the problem with flat land? If for some reason you associate the outdoors with big water, don’t worry because the Great Lakes are the largest reserves of freshwater available anywhere on this planet. Maybe I’m biased, but the Midwest really is great.
I joke that I was a Boy Scout and that they still owe me a Polar Bear Badge. Scouts who camp out at night while temperatures dip below 32 degrees, including a full day of outdoor activity and the preparation of two hot meals, have earned the badge according to Illowa Council rules.
It’s true that I never belonged to a Boy Scout troop, but I attended more Pathways than most Scouts I have met did. My dad, though he had three daughters, was active in our local council and for years loaned the use of our alfalfa field to the Scouts. If you ever attended a Pathways retreat in a field in Spring Valley, Illinois with your local Boy Scout Troop, you’ve been in my backyard. I hope you had a good time.
Pathways was a wonderful event, I learned so much over those two days every spring. My sisters and I camped every year. Through Pathways I learned how to rappel down a tower, tie knots and operate a crane. I taught other scouts what I knew about horsemanship and I had my bravery tested when I jumped off the zipline. What I think I looked forward to the most was the annual secret after-lights-out capture the flag game. Friends I made through the annual event would gather their friends late at night after everyone else had gone quiet. Behind the rolled hay bales we choose teams and played capture the flag across 18 square acres of open field. When the weather was bad you shivered in tall, wet grass. If the weather was good and the sky was clear, often the Milky Way was out.
There have been headlines in recent weeks about girls who are lobbying to be admitted into the Boy Scouts. These young ladies are extremely talented and capable and deserve every recognition they have already earned. I don’t know if letting girls into the Boy Scouts or boys into the Girl Scouts is the right answer or not, I’ll leave that up to people who know better than me to decide. What I think needs to happen is a shift in thinking on all sides about what scouts take away from outdoor adventures and scouting; and the way society writ large values those who work hard to achieve its highest honors.
Officially, I was a Girl Scout. My troop consisted of girls in my class and we met monthly through the end of 5th grade when our leaders disbanded. (Busy moms, I guess.) Girl Scouts was a great way for girls to learn and grow in an environment free from boys. The Girl Scouts has always been responsive to the changing worlds girls occupy. In the last few years the Girl Scouts have put additional emphasis on STEM programming, which is a huge step ahead towards helping girls become the women who will build our future digital and physical infrastructure. The Girl Scouts have always had a strong commitment for giving girls accurate information about their bodies. They have always been inclusive of all girls. The Girl Scouts are a vital bridge towards gender parity and they deserve every commendation. Also, I will buy every box of cookies any Girl Scout wants to sell me.
Day camp with the Girl Scouts was just different in so many ways than how we spent our time at Pathways. At Girl Scout Camp we recycled old paper into crafty notebooks, made campfire pies, crafted toilet paper wedding dresses and put on a fashion show. Don’t get me wrong, it was a blast, but it wasn’t the same kind of merit-and-boundary testing activities I got to do with the Boy Scouts.
Maybe my experience is not universal and there are other troops who got to engage in more exciting or challenging activities. I hope so. I don’t think our troop leaders were actively denying us any kind of experience, I think they were busy moms who hadn’t themselves been exposed to the kind of outdoor adventures Boy Scouts had access to for generations. Every crossing over ceremony I participated in with the Girl Scouts involved crossing a bridge placed in the center of a banquet hall, and giving the three-finger salute. In the Boy Scouts I jumped off a 25-foot-high platform and soared down a zipline into the middle of the alfalfa field. I took more away from standing on the edge of the platform and willing myself to jump than I did walking across a decorative bridge on a linoleum floor.
The outdoors industry has a long way to go before women are represented equitably. That’s part of the problem. We’re 51 percent of outdoors consumers, but only 12.5 percent of major outdoors companies have women CEOs. Only 37 percent of the National Park Service’s employees are women. Things are turning around, Outside Magazine devoted an issue to women this year, Misadventures Magazine puts the focus squarely on what women do in the outdoors (it’s not attract bears). REI’s Force of Nature initiative puts women’s outdoor accomplishments at the center of its campaign, and includes more women-specific gear in its stores. Let’s face it, if a 60 liter pack was designed for a man, it just isn’t going to sit right on a woman’s hips and it will lead to discomfort and maybe injury.
This is all great progress. Today’s girls are growing up in a world where stock photo women are climbing mountains more often than they’re laughing at salads. Don’t tell me that kind of representation doesn’t matter. But it doesn’t do much to fix the generations of women who came before us who didn’t have that same kind of access or representation. The Girl Scouts handbook printed from 1953-1977 put equal emphasis on home making and outdoors adventuring. Those women were definitely given skills and tools they needed, but that sort of structure would be appalling by modern standards. It made sense at the time, but it does not now.
The Girl Scouts should definitely stay the course with their efforts to get girls into entrepreneurial adventures, learning to code and other STEM initiatives at an early age. Those are vital to success in adulthood and in achieving gender parity in business and tech. Crafts are wonderful and the tradition of women creating what they need themselves is more important today than ever before. One way we might be able to jump ahead? Actively encourage girls to leave their comfort zones and give them the same kind of mettle- and boundary-testing experiences I had at Pathways. Teach them to operate a crane and tie knots and rappel down a tower.
Maybe the answer is for the Girl Scouts to do more to get girls outside and into the backwoods. That probably means actively recruiting women to volunteer with or lead troops into the woods. If our foremothers aren’t comfortable or don’t feel equipped to lead a backcountry adventure, then I guess it’s our job to do. That also means eliminating the roadblocks that keep women out of the woods in the first place. Make it easier for families with children to get into the outdoors. Create more accessible campsites and programming. Create scholarships that give low-income girls a space at camp.
The answer might be that Boy Scouts should welcome girls into their membership. That system works in Boy Scouts organization across the globe. No Boy Scout I ever met at Pathways treated me like I was any less capable or deserving of being there. The Girl Scouts have always been run and organized exclusively by women, that’s important. Boy Scouts are sometimes dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century. There’s a lot of value girls can gain from building something and learning in an environment free of boys, and the same value exists for boys in an environment free of girls. It might seem like an antiquity, but maybe we don’t have enough of it.
One thing we can do is make a much bigger fuss about the girls who do the hard work it takes to achieve the Gold Award, the equivalent to Eagle Scout. The hard work and community commitment it takes to achieve Eagle Scout unlocks many opportunities for boys, including scholarships, advancements on career tracks and the military. These same opportunities are not as prevalent for Girl Scouts who achieve the Gold Award. If we make a bigger deal about it, more girls will achieve it. It’s kind of indicative of the whole problem, don’t you think?
