Every way I move under my tarp rain leaks in. If I scooch up, mist clings to my eyelashes. If I roll to either side, I can feel moisture soaking into my down sleeping bag. I lie flat on my back, draw my knees up, and try to think small.
I’m in a hollow of red rock, up a canyon outside of Moab, Utah. It’s the middle of the night, it’s raining, and I am alone.
Granted, I’m not totally alone, and I’ve signed up for this. I’m in the canyon as part of a Next Steps course, with the Women’s Wilderness Institute, a four-day trip that combines backpacking with group work and life coaching. My night alone, a solo, is an integral part of the trip.
The Women’s Wilderness Institute, based in Boulder, Colorado, runs a variety of trips for girls and women across the West. Many of the courses, like Next Steps, incorporate some form of personal growth into the backcountry experience.
I was skeptical at first. The idea of a life coach made me raise my eyebrows, and my typical forays into the backcountry tend to be fast and light and don’t allow much time for life examination. But, before we even put our packs on, I felt myself softening to the idea.
The other women on the trip came for a wide variety of reasons: lost family members, tenuous relationships, worries about their future. Katie Asmus, the life coach, managed to be funny, wise and caring all at the same time.
In the morning we did yoga, and Katie led us through writing and group sharing exercises. In the afternoon we hiked, wrote more, and watched the June storm clouds roll shadows through the canyon. The last afternoon, a few of us climbed up through a drainage to the top of the buttes. Past the edge of the red rock canyon the Le Sal Mountains held snow in the distance and we could see all the way into Colorado.
I realized that despite my skepticism, everyone needs some time for contemplation. And there isn’t anywhere better to do that, in my opinion, than in the desert where all you have to do is open yourself up to the rocks and sky around you. Even the solo, despite the incessant rain, gave me much needed time to think.
By the morning the downpour had let up. I slung my soggy sleeping bag over a juniper tree and walked down into the nearby wash with my notebook and my therm-a-rest to give my life a little bit of examination.
Find out more about the Women’s Wilderness Institute
