Finding Myself in the Wild

Setting the Scene

So, firstly, a bit of context about me. I'm 41, a single mum (generally have my children 12/14 nights) and a full time teacher - life is busy! My marriage ended 2 and a half years ago and as time moved on after we split, I began to realise that I had made myself a very, very small version of myself during it. We both liked to walk, but I was never allowed to hold the map and eventually we stopped walking as my ex's other interests took over the spare time we had. I made sure my ex-husband had time to do what he wanted, but any time I wanted to do something for myself, it felt like I had to ask for permission and my opinion was rarely valued or listened to. I have had periods of intense depression and anxiety since my late teens, have been overweight most of my life and felt like I had lost everything when the marriage ended. The day after my ex husband left, I lay in bed after dropping my children at nursery and school and after many hours that I have no memory of, I remember thinking, 'well, this is it, I can either sink or swim'. And I chose to swim. At first, I didn't know what that would look like. For a while, it was just survival. Then, I began to find myself again. First, through exercise. For the first time, properly, I found exercise that I loved - home workouts with weights. Then I got back into running (had a brief foray into it between having my two children). Before long, I was buying heavier weights and I signed up to a half marathon. Two weeks after the half marathon, I signed up for a 23km trail run - I'd only ever run on roads, never trails. And then I got really ill, confined to bed for a week and suddenly had this trail run to do with no experience. But, I did it. And as I started that run, with my headphones on through gorgeous Suffolk scenery, I quickly realised that I didn't want my headphones on. I wanted to hear and see and smell and take in every element of the woods, fields and sandy hills that I was running on. And, during that run, my true love for the outdoors was found. I started building in walks to my child free time (and dragging my girls on shorter walks). Finding longer routes, making sure I was in fields, and walking by myself which didn't bother me - my head needed the peace. Sometimes I would take a book and a picnic and sit in the quiet, sometimes I would just stomp for miles shaking all sorts from my brain in the process. For my 40th, my brother took me to Wales and we climbed Snowdon together - my first mountain. For someone who wouldn't walk down steep hills for years (genuinely would go down on my bum), this was a big deal for me.

The Idea of Scotland

Fast forward to earlier this year. A conversation with a friend who enjoys the outdoors led us to thinking going to Scotland for a week or so together and wild camping would be a great idea. Now, at this point, I had probably spent less than 10 nights under canvas in my life. I had always shuddered at the idea of wild camping. But, the idea took root. Slowly, I started to research wild camping, the right sort of mats, tents etc. I realised that I would need better navigational skills than I had so I booked myself onto a navigational day course in Hertfordshire. It was on that course, during a conversation with the leader about my Scotland trip, I learned about CampWild. He recommended signing up and using their wild spaces before embarking on a completely 'free' wild camping trip to help build confidence. That was in April and I signed up that evening but then did nothing with my membership - slight fear took hold.

My friend who I was meant to go to Scotland with, for various reasons, was unable to make it. I expected myself to dump the idea, but, like I said, it had taken root and something in me couldn't let it go. I started to buy equipment and in June spent two nights at a campsite in Norfolk. I thought I would be scared, but as the darkness drew in and I cooked my simple dinner on my newly acquired camping stove, all I felt was peace. I hiked 28km the next day (I got lost, but worked it out and survived) and sitting down, on my own, outside my tent that night, I felt like I could do a longer, slightly wilder trip. And I realised that I was feeling things I hadn't really felt before, although I couldn't name what they were.

After much thought, I decided Scotland was too far. I still didn't know how I would go about feeling confident to find spaces myself and so I started looking more seriously at spaces that CampWild could offer me. My criteria was that I wanted to go north, and I wanted hills or mountains. The week before the time I had time to go away (because my children would be with their dad for a week), I was in Wales with my girls and we'd been walking and finding waterfalls. I'd been frustrated at not being able to go on longer hikes, so told myself that if I bit the bullet and camped the following week, I could hike as much as I wanted and so I decided I would head to Yorkshire as I knew, from a brief trip there last year that there were waterfalls and hills aplenty. I'd already fallen in love with the idea of Hegg's after looking at it previously and decided to book it. I booked it for two nights, then a place in the Lakes, thinking I would travel across. And then Storm Floris was forecast and it became clear Hegg's wasn't going to work for me for the first night I had it booked - a hike through a wooded area with an amber warning for wind, on my own, felt too much of a risk for me. Liz, the owner of Hegg's tried to be so helpful and accommodating but in the end, I decided to delay by a day. Being on your own, does make you more aware of risks. Tom and Alex at Camp Wild were brilliant as well, being really flexible. So, the night I was meant to be up at Hegg's, I instead spent rearranging the rest of my trip (as the Lakes were also forecast to have bad weather for when I'd planned to stay there). Instead I booked two more spaces in Yorkshire and then decided to have two nights in the Peak District. Turns out, I needed to just stop overthinking and book the damn places!

Hegg’s

The next day, I started the drive up to Hegg’s Farm. The whole way there, I was questioning myself. Who was I to think I could survive five nights in a tent, in different places, be strong enough to carry a pack with all my bits in it, go for hikes, on my own, in places I didn't know? What if something went wrong? What if I got scared? What if I got lonely? I'm not used to that much time on my own! But, I'm stubborn, so I wasn't going to back down.

I was thrilled when I arrived at the parking spot for Hegg's and started the hike to the bothy. It was still very windy (thanks, Floris) but there was something liberating about what I was doing. As I walked along the beck towards the bothy, I remember stopping and just thinking about how lucky I was to be in this part of the world, with the gorgeous scenery around me. When I arrived at the bothy, I became quite overwhelmed and emotional. Whether it was relief from having found my way there, the realisation that I was doing this trip and making it work, or just the sheer delight at the view in front of me, I'm still not sure. But, it definitely wasn't sadness. That first night was a shock to the system. No phone signal - no keeping an eye for messages, no scrolling Instagram, nothing. But, the view across to Calver Hill was utterly breathtaking. However, I couldn't keep still. I was up and down like a yo-yo (at home, I don't sit down much, there's always something to do). I made three cups of tea in 50 minutes. Made videos for my children and a couple of friends. Made dinner. Went for a walk around the back of the bothy along a gorgeous footpath and was mesmerised by the sun setting over the hills. Eventually I went back to the bothy and tucked myself into one of the hammocks with my headtorch and book - the feeling of being slightly cocooned in the hammock finally made me stop and breath and I realised how difficult I find it to switch off and relax. All my walking and running is great, but how often do I just stop? Very, very rarely. Funnily enough, within 20 minutes I couldn't keep my eyes open and crawled into my sleeping quilt, which I'd set up inside the bothy, and very quickly went to sleep. The next morning, I sat outside having a cup of coffee thinking about what I had planned for that day (a hike which started about a 30 minute drive away, then four different waterfalls to drive to before heading to my next spot - I love a plan) but I couldn't stop looking at Calver Hill. Looking at my map, I realised one of the footpaths leading up it started right by the lay-by where my car was, so after some breakfast and a quick wash in the outside wash tub (pretty liberating having a wash, butt naked in the outdoors!), I packed up my gear, walked back to my car, changed my bag for a day pack and began the hike. Now, where I live, it is flat. Flat, flat, flat. And not normally very windy. Realistically, other than Snowndon, I'd never walked up a 'proper' hill. And here I was, navigating on my own. Thankfully, I had the OS Maps app which kept me on track and I completed the route I set out to. I did end up crawling to the very top of the hill as it was so windy and my nerves took over, but I made it, didn't see another soul, and felt completely brilliant. Back down, around the base and then back to my car. Windswept, slightly dishevelled but proud. Quick bit of lunch at my car, then into Reeth for a slice of cake and a rethink of the rest of my day. Being this flexible with plans does not come naturally to me and it was a struggle, but if there was ever a time to embrace it, this was it. I drove to a couple of waterfalls and completed short hikes around them, then to Cascades, just over the border in Cumbria.

EXPLORE HEGGS BOTHY

Settling Into the Rhythm

Settling into this trip now, I set up camp to the white noise of the waterfall nearby and then had a little explore, finding the secluded waterfall at the bottom of the space. Looking over the hills, I settled in for the evening. And, the adrenaline started to really die down. I felt so incredibly lucky. To now be spending a second night in another beautiful setting felt like such a privilege. To be completely self sufficient felt like an achievement. And to be cut off with no phone signal again, felt, frankly, blooming wonderful.

The white noise sent me to sleep easily and in the morning I woke up to heavy rain. Not ideal! And as a camper who was still new to all of this, I wasn't sure of the best way to try and keep everything as dry as possible. Luckily I had all my waterproofs with me, had lined my bag and had dry bags and my tent is one that can have the inner taken down, leaving the fly sheet up so I could keep the inner completely dry. I decided a quick pack up was needed, rather than coffee and breakfast and so did just that, then drove to the village of Ingleton where I had wanted to complete the waterfall trail. The drive there was, interesting! Narrow Yorkshire roads, in the clouds, getting in and out to shut farm gates in the pouring rain, all tested my resolve. Eventually, just outside of Ingleton, there was a shop and cafe on the main road, so I pulled in, and treated myself to a hot breakfast and dried out a bit. It was still pouring with rain, so a quick Google suggested a cave tour a couple of miles away, which was ace. By the time I came out, the sun had started to shine, so I started to get all my wet gear out from the boot and lay it over seats etc in the hope it would dry. I then spent a few hours hiking the Ingleton Waterfall Trail which was stunning, then back to my car to finish drying the flysheet on the roof of my car as the sun was shining brightly. I'd also spotted an open air swimming pool in the village so nipped there for their last session of the day and a shower! I was feeling pretty good about life. My children had sent videos which showed them having a brilliant time, and my eyes had been filled with just the most beautiful scenery. I had no one to please but myself and I was learning to be flexible and go with the flow more.

EXPLORE CASCADES

Roman Baths and Malham

I drove to my next wild camp, Roman Baths, chosen because I'm a history teacher and I couldn't resist the historical element, plus it looked a stunning location. As I hiked there from my car, I realised that the field of cows I needed to go through to get to the beck that I would camp next to was also full of calves. Calves who were running around and scattered from their mums. I'm not the biggest fan of cows, but knew I could force myself through the field of cows (the description had mentioned this, so I was aware when I booked), but the calves being there changed the game for me. I knew to get between a calf and its mum is asking for trouble and these calves were not stood with their mums - they were playing together and spread out. I stood the other side of the gate I was meant to climb going back and forth in my head. I could see the bank I needed to climb down, it wasn't far, but I just couldn't make myself do it. My pack weighed about 19kg and I was on my own. If anything happened, I knew I wouldn't be able to run or shed the pack quickly enough and there would be no way to get help. I'm sure I would have been fine, but those old anxious feelings rose up, and I bailed. I was gutted. I felt like I had completely failed myself. I cried walking back to my car and beat myself up over how foolish I felt I'd been. I spent the night in a nearby village at a lovely pub (still made myself dinner on my stove in my room) and had to reconcile that my night was not going to be what I wanted it to be. The pub was lovely, but when you have been expecting peace and solitude and suddenly there are other people, however lovely and friendly, it's quite jarring. Plus, I'd quickly fallen in love with my little tent and the rhythm of making myself a tea and dinner and reading and thinking and emptying my head. But, there was nothing I could do - it was late and so sleep beckoned.

The next morning I hiked from the village of Malham, taking in Janet's Foss, Gordale Scar, Malham Cove and Malham Tern. I made myself a cup of tea sat on a hillside, surrounded by sheep, had a swim in Janet's Foss and battled torrential rain up at Malham Cove before being battered by strong winds on the steep descent later in the hike. I got at least three seasons of weather in that hike. But again, up and down hills, on my own, choosing my route, navigating myself, the only restriction being me. It felt bloody wonderful even if my quads were starting to burn.

The Peak District

Then the drive to the Peak District to stay at The Miers for two nights. The Miers was a different entity from the other wild spaces. A lovely meadow, but effectively at the back of a few little cottages. As long as you face your tent in the right direction, you look out over beautiful scenes, but as soon as I arrived, I realised it wasn't the right wild space for me. I wanted to be completely alone. Here I could see cars passing on the road a short distance away, could hear music from one of the two local pubs. It turns out, that true isolation and seclusion are what I crave. The irony is, is that I had booked it because I thought I might like the feeling of not being so isolated towards the end of my trip, but, in fact, the opposite was true. That being said, I had a lovely time there, completed the Monsal Trail, went to Monsal Head and hiked around there and slowed down a little bit in Bakewell with some cake. I also met Chris, the landowner, who recommended the Red Lion pub in the village who brew their own beer and I definitely enjoyed a quick stop there.

EXPLORE THE MIERS

What I Learned

• Investing in decent kit is worth it (I need lighter kit, but that comes at a greater price) but my mat was comfy, my tent ace and my sleeping quilting cosy

• I don't feel unsafe on my own, in the dark, with no phone signal. In fact, I feel secure, at ease and at peace

• I don't have enough time to sit and do nothing and as such it's very difficult for me to do this. But, it's vital that I learn to do it.

• I can be more flexible than I thought

• Pushing myself, physically, is a joy.

• Walking and making time to actually stop and take in the view, is necessary and something I don't do enough - I had to make myself stop and look up, instead of my usual stomping quickly through the flat fields around home

• Nothing beats a simple meal cooked after a long hike, in front of your tent

• A cup of tea, sat in a field of sheep on a hillside in Yorkshire, beats a cup of tea virtually anywhere else (happy to be proven wrong and find other stunning locations to have a cup of tea, but you'll never persuade me being indoors and having a cuppa is better than this)

• I am quite capable of not having a shower every day (this was a real concern of mine before going!)

• Turns out I'm also quite capable of not wearing make up. I never leave the house without eyebrow pencil and mascara as a minimum but didn't bother taking them and it was great!

• Wild camping is luxurious. It's far from your traditional 5 star hotel. But, to have time to sit in nature, hear the sounds of animals, birds, wind in the trees, waterfalls, watch the sun set over the hills, listen to the sound of water running down a beck, get into a cosy little tent with everything you need, have time and space to think about what you are feeling and sit with it, however, hard that might be, or reflect on things that have happened in your life, all of those things are a complete luxury (and knock a 5 star hotel out of the water). We don't do it enough. Life is too busy. Wild camping makes peace happen and I think we would all be better off for doing it.

• Nature is wonderful; being outside more is essential

• I have come back home more balanced, more aware, calmer. I know stress will rise again, but I also know I have another reset button now and one that I don't have to physically exert myself though running or long hikes, if I don't want to. I can just camp and 'be'.
  

Coming Home Changed

And that friend who was unable to come to Scotland with me (which resulted in my different but wonderful trip this time)? I'm taking him to the campsite in Norfolk next week and hope to get him properly wild camping soon. And as for me, as much as I want to wild camp with friends in the future, I will prioritise wild camping on my own; it offered me something unique, something grounding, something that took me back to feeling the joy of living for all the right reasons. And, whilst I will continue to use CampWild, I also hope to find my own wild camping spaces in the future. I feel like another part of my life is just beginning, which given I thought so much of my life was coming to an end two and a half years ago, is a pretty epic feeling.