Thinking about going solo into the wild? Trading the concrete and car horns for a weekend of birdsong, campfires, and solitude?
It sounds peaceful. And it can be.
But the truth? It’s not always the picture-perfect escape people post on Instagram—especially if you’re venturing beyond fenced-in parks and curated picnic spots. If you’re considering truly going off-grid—where phone signal fades and the stars are your only ceiling—here’s what you need to know.
Before You Head Out Alone
Let’s be honest: solo camping isn’t glamorous. Not at first. No welcome mat or snack shop is waiting for you. You might have to fetch your own firewood, cook over open flames, and deal with bugs that have no respect for personal space.
Still interested? Good. That’s a great sign.
Before you zip up that backpack, ask yourself: Why am I doing this? For quiet? For clarity? For the challenge? There’s no wrong reason—just make sure you have one. It’ll help later, especially during those uncomfortable moments.
A Quick Story: My First Solo Night Out
I didn’t choose my first solo camping trip—it chose me. It was part of my coursework. A practical exercise meant to test endurance and independence.
When we arrived at Hell’s Gate National Park, our phones were confiscated, and the rules were laid out. No gas cookers. No outside help. We were to cook with firewood and sleep under the stars. At first, it felt like a group activity. But then they told us about the solo nights.
Scattered across the park with only what we could carry, we each had to make camp. Some had sleeping bags; others, just thin blankets. I had a rough start. I misjudged how much wood I’d need, and my fire fizzled out before midnight.
That night, the darkness didn’t feel peaceful. It felt alive—howling, moving, watching. I thought I saw hyenas up on the ridges. Maybe I did. The sounds of wild dogs and whatever else roams at night kept my heart racing.
But then… I looked up. The stars were bright. The moon—comforting, somehow. I didn’t sleep, but I made it through. And that felt like a small victory.
Day Two: A Little Better
Morning brought its own surprises—like a group of warthogs casually trotting past my makeshift camp. I froze. They ignored me. After that, I took the day more seriously.
I collected wood properly this time. Marked a wider space for visibility. Stayed alert. And as I sat watching buffaloes in the distance and birds in the trees, I noticed something: the noise was gone. Not silence exactly, but no human noise. Just nature, being itself.
It was humbling. A little magical. And I didn’t want to leave.
Thinking of Going Solo? Here’s What to Keep in Mind
- Nature doesn’t bend to your plans. It gets cold. It gets hot. It rains. Animals don’t read your schedule.
- You’ll work for every comfort. Want a warm meal? Build the fire first. Want to sleep easy? Prep the ground well. Tired? Too bad, there’s wood to gather.
- Leave your devices behind. Or at least off. Let your mind wander without distraction. It’s harder than it sounds, but worth it.
- Pack with intention. Take essentials—tent, warm clothes, matches, food, water. Don’t rely on what’s “probably” out there.
- Stay safe, not scared. Know the area. Learn about the local wildlife. Let someone know where you are, especially if it’s remote.
Final Thoughts: Why Bother at All?
Because solo camping strips away everything extra. There’s no performance, no audience. Just you, the land, and time. And that’s rare.
It’s not always peaceful. Sometimes it’s tough, boring, even uncomfortable. But in between those moments are little rewards—unexpected insights, simple joys, and a kind of stillness that’s hard to find in daily life.
If you’re up for it, try it. Once.
You might come back changed—or at the very least, with a story worth telling.
