Solo Style Wanderlust

Have you ever hiked alone?

If you just thought “Noooo” in a Why would anyone do that?! tone, you may want to stop reading. But you probably wouldn’t be reading this blog anyway.

If you have hiked alone, you’ll know the same half free, half scary (with a pinch of adrenaline rush thrown in) combination I know. If you’ve done a miles-long solo hike through a cold river in a slot canyon, then I’m guessing you’ve hiked the Narrows trail in Zion National Park too! (If you did this somewhere other than Zion, please tell me where—definitely want to check that out.)

The Narrows is a hiking trail. But it’s also the Virgin River, which flows through canyon walls in Utah. So, yes, you’re literally hiking in water ranging from ankle-deep to hip-deep. Did I mention the risk of flash floods that could raise the water level several dozen feet in a matter of minutes? Queue the half scary part. Especially once you learn storms can create flash floods miles upriver—meaning a blue sky overhead and no warning whatsoever. I picture that massive wave hitting New York in “The Day After Tomorrow”. Talk about the stuff of nightmares.

But instead of saying NOPE, I decided to buy myself a pair of Chacos and get my wading game on. Let me give you the benefit of my experience with a few tips for on this (or a similar) solo hike.

Tip #1: The walking sticks aren’t just for the elderly.

When I heard recommendations for walking sticks on this hike, I think I made a mental sound along the lines of “pah”. I don’t need to spend money on that! I have good balance, I do yoga, etc., etc.

Don’t be like me. Get a walking stick. If you don’t have one, you’ll be like I was, constantly stumbling and slipping over underwater rocks you can’t see. It’s not like you have someone hiking with you to lean on. Plus, you’ll spend way too much time looking down, trying in vain to see your feet, rather than taking in the beauty of your surroundings.

I do have good balance though. Despite all my slipping and sliding, I never once fell. So my camera stayed dry. 

Tip #2: Start early.

Did I mention I had an all-nighter in Vegas the night before? Once I got my act together with the proper amount of caffeine, went through the tedious rental car process at the Vegas airport, and drove the two-ish hours to Zion, I was (finally) ready to hike. It was 2 p.m.

I’m not a newb, I knew this wasn’t ideal. But I also knew this was my only chance for a Zion hike, as I had to be in Page, Az. the next day for a tour of Antelope Canyon.

It’s not always a bad thing to start a hike later in the day, especially if you just want to do a short one. In this case, it might actually be better because the Virgin River water is chilly and feels damn good at the hottest part of the day. There are also fewer hikers at this time, so there’s a smaller crowd.

But I wanted to make it to the Wall Street section—where the slot canyon narrows to only about 20 feet across—which is about three miles from the start of the bottom-up trail. And you have to hike out the way you came, there’s no loop option. And since us brave folk are traveling alone, it’s probably not a good idea to be in a river, after dark, with no one but local animals for company.

I ended up with about eight miles under my belt, finishing around 8 p.m. I was starving and wiped out. Start a little earlier than I did.

Tip #3: Get good footwear—and break them in.

I actually followed my own advice (mostly). Chaco sandals were a good choice for this hike since your feet are almost constantly submerged. However, sandals have a downside—your feet slide around when they’re wet. This causes already unsteady footing to become a bigger problem. I tightened up the straps and got through it.

But. I bought those sandals just a week before my trip. Meaning? I didn’t have time to break them in properly. So I ended up with some blisters where the new (and tightened) nylon straps cut into my poor toes (toes get such harsh treatment...and they work so hard!). Needless to say, I walked barefoot back to the parking lot. No one around to carry me after all!

Tip #4: Be ready to take stunning pictures.

If you’re confident enough in your stability while walking across underwater stones you can’t see, then definitely have your camera out and ready to capture the gorgeous, constantly-changing scenery.

The sun’s movement, the difference in water height, the ever-changing canyon walls—it all means the views keep changing as you hike. The next postcard-perfect picture is just around the riverbend.

It’s easy to make sure you can get a few pictures with you in them—all you have to do is ask! People are (generally) nice enough to humor you, especially if you offer to take a snap of them in return. If you’re not in the mood to converse, or plan to hike far enough there won’t be people surrounding you, pack a small tripod.

Tip #5: Look around.

Some of my tips might imply I didn’t enjoy myself or find the experience spectacular. You’re wrong, I totally did. The beauty is simply jaw-dropping and worth any trouble it takes to see, including my mistakes in preparation.

Remember to take camera breaks—see stuff with your eyes, not your camera lens. Watch the river flowing. Witness the hikers around you laughing and slipping. See the sunlight and shadows change as the miles go by.

Staying balanced during this hike is a challenge. You’ll be tempted to stare at your feet as you hike to watch your footing. Just don’t, you won’t be able to see through the water once it’s more than a few inches deep anyway. Use your walking stick and keep your eyes skyward.

“You’re going alone?”

Cue the look that implies a mixture of pity, fear and admiration. The mix tends to depend on the person who just learned I’ll be traveling solo on a trip. 

Anyone who has travelled alone knows what I’m talking about. If you’re like me, a frequent solo traveler, you’ve had this happen at least once: someone will imply something might be wrong with you if you’re traveling alone. I’m generally able to ignore the pity and focus on why I travel alone in the first place. Mainly that if I waited for other people to come with me, I might never get anywhere.

Not everyone has the capacity to realize what an amazing thing it is to travel alone. To make decisions based only on what you want to see and do, meet strangers that might make your experience so much better...really just feel that independence that only comes from traveling alone. You know how they say “you don’t know someone until you live with them?” Totally true. But you also don’t know someone until you travel with them. Including yourself.

You quickly realize what’s important to you. What you’re willing to sacrifice to make something else happen. Maybe it’s sleep when you decide you want to get up at 4am to start a hike that’ll put you in the perfect place for sunrise. Hard to accomplish when you’re with a group. Or maybe it’s pride when you push yourself to do something you’re not completely comfortable with, and don’t want anyone you know to witness it in case you mess it up (totally never happened). Or maybe it’s money when you decide to splurge on a really expensive meal at Gordon Ramsay while everyone else would prefer eating at Chipotle and gambling instead (true story, as if you couldn’t tell). You’ll enjoy a sense of freedom when you’re able to make all the decisions. Who wouldn’t want to try it?!

Once you have a chance to explain you’re not a crazy loner, people might follow up their pitying, fearful, admiring look with something like this:

“You’re not scared to travel alone? That’s so cool!”

“I could never do that.”

“Wow, you’re brave!”

Which feels pretty good. You know, if you care what people think.

So far this year - which we’re halfway through - I’ve been on no fewer than six group trips: Colorado, New Orleans, Colorado again, Orlando, the Niobrara River in Nebraska and Vegas. And I have three more planned for the month of July: Colorado again (I know, why don’t I just move there?!), the Ozarks and Virginia. This is probably the most group travel I’ve done in such a short amount of time. Ever.

It’s no wonder I had to go off on my own for a weekend in Utah and Arizona after my recent group trip to Vegas. Gordon Ramsay was just the start.

Black buggy eyes. Long antenna slowly waving at me. Pink legs scuttling around on the counter top. I never thought shrimp were very attractive creatures—though extremely tasty—and this first glimpse of a live one isn’t changing my opinion.

It is however making me feel guilty for its impending doom. The sushi chef is showing me the live prawn he’s about to decapitate and serve to me. So I can’t help but feel a little shame when I look into its beady eyes. Not enough to stop the chef though; this is one of their specialties and I want to try it. Plus I have a small audience of fellow diners at the bar watching and taking pictures of my reactions. Can’t back down now.

It was a very tasty food adventure in Seattle’s top-rated sushi restaurant, Shiro’s. And I owe it to the group of fellow diners sitting next to me at the sushi bar. They explained to me the mistake I made in ordering off the menu: the best options aren’t on the menu. Instead, you ask the sushi chef to recommend the best offerings of the night. In this case, live prawns. And the head that’s cut off? Fried up and served up alongside. I would have missed out on this incredible experience had I not been traveling alone and brave enough to chat with strangers. 

My whole trip was actually one big adventure as it was my first solo travel in the US. A lot of firsts: first time eating fresh-as-can-be seafood; first time doing a solo hike on a mountain path on Mt. Rainier; first tattoo!

The tattoo was fairly spur-of-the-moment. I’d been wanting one but I couldn’t decide on placement. Visible or easily hidden? Walking down the streets of Seattle, I passed a tattoo shop and it just seemed right. However, I’m not kitsch enough to leave everything to fate; I looked up some reviews on the place first. Once I found their good ratings, the decision was made. I was getting a tattoo. But where? Wrist? Side of my foot? Ribs? And more importantly, what image? A phrase that I tried to live my life by? Something symbolic? After a few minutes of deliberating I decided to go with my gut. I’d be getting a black bird silhouette. On that aforementioned gut. Or rather, a little higher, on my ribs. One bird to symbolize flying solo. An hour later, I walked out again, feeling independent and high on life. I could see how people got addicted to tattoos.

I spent a full day doing a tour of Mt Rainier. Most importantly, I learned how to correctly spell and say the name of the peak from the local tour driver. But exploring the mountain alone was a great experience as well. I found it very freeing to do a solo hike. I was following a well-worn path, mostly in view of the visitor’s center below, so it wasn’t as though I needed to carry a compass or worry about getting eaten by a bear. I could march at my own pace, stop to take as many pictures of the mountain as I wanted, even sit and soak it all in when I chose. When you enjoy traveling solo, you’ve learned to enjoy being in your own company.

Seattle is now one of my favorite cities because of the spectacular food available. Especially the food you find at the Pike Place farmers market, possible the best farmers market I’ve ever seen. Stalls mixed with store locations saw an amazing variety of fruits, vegetables, seafood, cheese, spices, crafts, pastries, drinks, pretty much everything you could want in a market. 

I took a tour that promised to show the behind-the-scenes look at iconic Pike Place. We started at the infamous gum wall then moved on to receive specially made samples and backdoor views. I even got to catch a fish with the famous fish throwing employees. An Australian woman was kind enough to snap a photo for me and emailed it to me a few weeks later.

An important lesson on traveling solo: you can ALWAYS find a way to capture the moment if you’re willing to talk to strangers.

Walking down a deserted dirt path in what appeared to be the middle of the Balinese jungle, following a local man who was supposedly leading us to a coffee shop, I began to picture scenes from TV crime dramas. We were in the middle of nowhere. Parts of the movie Taken were coming back to me. Vividly. A glance back the way we came showed another local man casually holding a machete. He gave me a smile and a friendly wave. My ingrained politeness made me wave timidly back, but I was wondering if I would ever make it out of this patch of jungle.

As it turned out, I did. The end of that dirt path opened into the most local, organic coffee shop I had ever seen. It was a family growing the plants, roasting the beans in a pan over a fire and then using the Bali equivalent of a French press. We got our first example of our gracious and courteous hosts, the Balinese people, having only landed in Bali two hours before. My friend Jess and I were here for our tropical adventure; this was certainly the best start imaginable. After taking a tour of the family business, which included stopping to take a picture with their pet monkey, we sat at picnic tables and drank tiny sips of the strong, hot “kopi”, the Balinese word for coffee.

Then we had the opportunity to taste test several types of tea they also grew and produced in their backyard. Flavors like vanilla, coconut, ginseng; my favorite was lemongrass. Our guide piped in with recommendations on the best types and how the tea could improve our lives.

“That one will keep you healthy!”

“That one will give you energy all day long!”

“That one will make you beautiful! More beautiful!”

It was essentially a wine tasting but with tea. When we got the opportunity to purchase our newfound treasure, I didn’t hesitate. What started out as a possible crime scene ended up being the most authentic Balinese experience I would have in the four days I spent there.

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There were two main reasons I wanted to visit Bali. One was to scuba dive in tropical waters.

I’m a certified diver but most of that diving has been done off the coast of Australia, usually in winter. Full body wet suits were always necessary and I was cold even then. Bali’s average water temperature of 80 degrees Fahrenheit was a high point on my scuba resume.

A bonus to the tropical water was the chance to go wreck diving along the USAT Liberty shipwreck. This US Army cargo ship was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine in January 1942, just after the attack on Pearl Harbor. She was beached on Bali’s eastern shore after the damage caused the towing attempt to be abandoned. Several decades later, in part due to a volcanic eruption and the associated tremors, USAT Liberty sits in the ocean just off the coastal town Tulamben, providing a handy wreck site for keen divers like me.

Sea turtles, eels, starfish, rays, dozens of varieties of fish; seeing animals like these in their natural habitats is the main attraction to scuba diving for me. Breathing underwater is certainly a novelty, but you forget you’re even doing it when you see the underwater world humans rarely get to witness. Wreck diving adds a layer of familiar in the unfamiliar. Seeing compartments and wheel locks on doors, swimming through gaping holes in what used to be walls, looking at the fish and coral who have made homes in a WWII cargo ship, all creates a surreal feeling that is amazing in its eeriness.

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The second reason for going to Bali? I wanted to meet an elephant.

Always an animal lover, I’ve long admired elephants for their intelligence and loving nature. My bucket list includes a trip to the African savannah to see lions, zebras and, of course, elephants. So when I started researching available activities and tours in Bali, I may have screamed in excitement when I saw an elephant safari park that rescues elephants who are abused or mistreated from places around the world. I booked my tour immediately.

Elephant trumpeting greeted us when we walked into the park. My excitement ratcheted up about 300%. Practically jogging down the sidewalk, we reached the main part of the park and saw the elephants. Elephants everywhere. On one side, a small lake that elephants were using to cool off after giving visitors rides. Near that, several young elephants were eating out of people’s hands and posing for pictures. The other side had people lining up to get rides around the park. I made the decision quickly. We headed straight for the baby elephants to take what would turn out to be an enormous amount of pictures.

If you’ve ever had the opportunity to touch an elephant, you’ll know it’s not what you might expect. Sure, their skin is tough, but also very rough. And surprisingly hairy. You want to hug them all the same though. Especially when they raise their trunks and smile at you.

After getting some elephant trunk hugs and taking the obligatory amount of pictures, we had our turn on the elephant rides. Our guide sat in front of us, not needing to lead our elephant as she seemed to know her way around the park well. He told us all about the park and resident elephants instead, and gave us the background information on Debi. She had come from Sumatra and was thirty years old—still spry for an elephant. And she had a two-year old daughter, who we had gotten pictures with earlier. The end of our ride included a dip in the lake for Debi to cool off and spray water with her trunk, much to our amusement.

Breathing underwater. Every time I go scuba diving, there’s still a millisecond where my brain tries to tell me this isn’t possible. Don’t inhale, you’re underwater! You’ll drown! And then all the training that comes with getting certified to scuba dive kicks in: breathe deeply and continuously. This IS possible. And every time I strap on the BCD and start breathing through that regulator, it’s amazing all over again!

I went scuba diving in the ocean for the first time in 2011 while I was studying abroad in Australia. And yes, I know exactly how lucky I am to have made my first dive on the longest, and arguably best, coral reef in the world: the Great Barrier Reef. One time is all it took, I was definitely hooked. Since then I’ve gotten my PADI Open Water Certification, and just recently my PADI Advanced Open Water Certification. I’m now able to dive to 30 meters and I’m eligible to start other advanced courses that interest me, like Deep Diver and Wreck Diver. I hope to achieve those levels soon, so that I can travel to other exotic locations like Truk Lagoon in Micronesia and appreciate them fully. Diving is an expensive hobby, there’s no doubt about it. But so, so incredibly worth it.

  Scuba diving seems like the ultimate way to travel solo. I don’t mean you should scuba dive alone. Obviously that would be incredibly dangerous. Always have a buddy! But even if you’re like me a few weekends ago, getting another certification and diving in a group of 6 people, there’s something about scuba diving that makes you feel as though you’re in your own little world. A world where only you and all the sea life exists. It may have something to do with not being able to talk. Or having tunnel vision because your mask essentially cuts off your peripheral vision. Whatever the reason, each time I sink below the surface and start breathing underwater, I feel completely separated from human life…and try to immerse myself in sea life. It seems like I’m the luckiest person in the world to be able to see fish, sharks, rays, turtles, coral and everything else that’s under the sea.

With a blanket wrapped around me, in an attempt to keep the strong wind coming off the coast from freezing me completely, I watched the sun slip behind the clouds as it reached the horizon. Completely alone, I took in my surroundings for a mental snapshot. Several cliffs jutting out into the sea, creating a beautifully original coastline. Waves crashing against the rocks, forceful enough to churn the water until the foam looked thick enough to sit on. A mix of pinks, oranges and purples tinging the clouds and sky into a unique swirl of colors. Sunset has always been a favorite time of day for me. Especially when I’m watching it after a full day of seeing some of the most beautiful natural features in the world.

In a stretch of about thirty kilometers along the Great Ocean Road, from the Bay of Islands to the Gibson Steps, the coastline gives us incredibly gorgeous naturally-occurring sights. Knowing they were made by water and erosion, through no work of humans, makes it even more appealing. So appealing that it took me about nine hours to travel that thirty kilometers. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from getting out of my car at every opportunity! Sometimes without an opportunity, where I would just pull off to the side of the road to snap yet another amazing photo, receiving not-so-friendly honks from passing cars the whole time.

The 12 Apostles are by far the most well-known feature along the Great Ocean Road. However, I found many other spots along the way that struck me as far more stunning. This probably had something to do with the crowds that were swarming around the viewing platforms for the 12 Apostles. Being the most well-known means that’s where the tour buses are going to congregate, bringing tourists from all corners of the world. My favorite spots were far more secluded. Such as the area I found to watch the sunset. No signs told me what it was called and I still have no idea. It was just a dirt road, with a small clearing to park my cute rental car in, and an old, not-really-a-path-anymore path to follow. Follow it I did, right up to the edge of the cliff. I was very aware of how alone I was. If I should slip and fall right off the edge, it’s a good bet I wouldn’t be found for some time…I now have a good plotline for a murder mystery novel! The possible death scenario wasn’t enough to scare me back to the car however. It was truly wonderful to enjoy the crashing waves, to watch the light change on the neighboring cliff faces as the sun got lower in the sky, and to simply take it all in without anyone disturbing my new-found peace.

I saw all of the other natural features of the land with names and paved roads as well. London Bridge, Loch Ard Gorge, the Arch, the Bay of Islands, the Bay of Martrys, the Grotto. I was able to see many of these from the air as well, because I shelled out for an amazing helicopter tour. Lasting only twenty-five minutes, it was incredibly fun to see the coast from a completely different perspective than usual. Plus riding in a helicopter had been a bucket list item for years, so check that off! It seemed like everywhere I went, or even looked, was simply stunning. I tried to capture as many of these sights as possible through the lens of my treasured Leica. I also met some very interesting people along the way. Like the couple who was bike riding all across Australia. Or the Barossa Valley couple who wanted to hear all about where I was from in America. Seeing the sights that were a little off the beaten track allowed me to have conversations with the others who were taking the same path.

  A solo road trip turned out to be different from other ways I’d traveled alone. I’ve taken solo trips that still included doing tours with groups or solo vacations spent exploring the same town for a few days. With a solo road trip, I was truly alone in the car, with only my opinions and decisions counting for anything. This was mostly liberating, sometimes lonely, and at one particular point, frightening. The fear came when I realized I was low on fuel, after dark, on a national park road with no street lights, and a dying iPhone. I’m fairly certain that my green Nissan rental was actually running on my anxiety for the last few kilometers. A lot of scenarios came to mind as I frantically drove towards my hostel for the night, at times swerving to avoid local fauna. Like having to sleep in my car, or getting run over if I tried to walk to the nearest town in the dark, or being involved in the Australian equivalent of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Thankfully none of that happened and I safely arrived in Apollo Bay. But that horrible forty-five minutes served as the best reminder possible to always pay attention to the fuel gauge.

But back to how my solo road trip was liberating! I loved being able to stop at every possible stop along that 30 kilometers of gorgeous coastline. To eat at random times whenever I felt like it. And to do things like helicopter rides, horseback riding on the beach, and private surf lessons, which a friend or family member may not have been interested in. Though really, who doesn’t want to ride a horse on the beach? A crazy person? I was able to plan everything exactly how I wanted. I stopped at a place called CheeseWorld because I could. I paid $20 for over a half kilo of the freshest, most delicious organic blueberries I’ve ever tasted. And even though I ended up packing a few too many things into my days, leaving me with too little time for sleep, it was all my choice!

My last day was spent driving the Great Ocean Road on the eastern side, after a visit to the Otway National Park to take in some zip lining. Now, instead of towering cliff faces and natural arches, I was driving at sea-level, right along the ocean. Literally. It was only a few metres away. Talk about it being difficult to keep my eyes on the road! I wasn’t the only one tempted though, as I was constantly reminded by road signs about being in a high-crash zone and that in Australia, you drive on the left. It was difficult to remind myself I had a scheduled horseback ride, and couldn’t actually go jump in the surf at every beach access road. I consider beaches to be my idea of paradise, my happy place. So this was more difficult than you might think. I was able to keep myself (mostly) on time and enjoyed three hours of being atop a horse. We hit the trails with some trotting and cantering and then walked along the surf. Aero, my beautiful gray horse, helped me check off another bucket list item.

The Great Ocean Road is an experience not to be missed. Located at the bottom eastern corner of Australia, it can be difficult to plan, especially if you’re coming to Australia for only a week and want to see the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Great Barrier Reef. I was surprised at how few of my Australian coworkers have been to see it. Now that I’ve talked it up and shown my pictures around, I think I’ve convinced a few it’s worth the trip. But I wouldn’t recommend trying to squeeze it in one of the day tours that are advertised everywhere. Sure, you’ll see the 12 Apostles and the surfing towns like Torquay. But you’ll see so much more of the inside of your tour bus. I only had 2 ½ days and it still wasn’t enough to see everything. But I had the freedom to stop whenever I wanted. Go when you have the time to really experience the Great Ocean Road at a leisurely pace. You’ll miss the majesty of the naturally occurring sights if you just catch a glimpse for a few seconds before jumping back on the bus.

Feeling the wind on my face and the sun in my eyes, smelling the sea air with the sound of the crashing surf, and the taste of blueberries and aged cheddar on my tongue, I was truly happy. My Great Ocean Road trip was my first solo road trip. It will not be the last.

When I was a toddler, I used to sneak out of my house to go on adventures. I don't think the destination was really the point, as I generally ended up at the local pool or the field behind our street. With four older siblings, who were supposed to be watching me, maybe I just wanted to see if I could get away with it. But I like to think that even at two years old, I had a sense of wanderlust. A yearning to go see the world, even if the world was just my neighborhood. Even if it meant going alone. 

I've always loved traveling. That might be a cliche statement these days. Who doesn't like traveling? Going on vacation? Getting away for awhile? It goes a little deeper for me. Of course I enjoy the standard weekend away to see a new city or go on a road trip to see distant relatives. But I also love the idea of stepping outside of my own life to see other people's lives. Other cultures, other customs, other countries, other cities. I love seeing the differences and similarities between places. A city in Australia might be similar to a city in the US, while two US cities might be as different as can be. I love learning new things about these places. I love the feeling of seeing a new place, experiencing it, and knowing that no one else has been in that same place, at that very same second. In that sense, everywhere is unique. And possibly most of all, I love capturing that second, that memory, on camera. 

This wanderlust has lead me to see a lot of new places. It also lead me in my decision to help launch an international office for the company I was working for post graduation. I've lived in Brisbane, Australia for almost a year and a half. Because I moved halfway across the world, I didn't know many people upon my arrival. Some distant cousins and my coworker/roommate helped ease my transition more than I can say, but what about seeing this wonderfully diverse country? A semester abroad in Australia had allowed me to experience many of the cities and places on my to-do list for the world's biggest island. It also gave me my first taste of solo travel: a 5 day trip to the largest west coast city, Perth. Which was definitely a huge learning experience. But now I was facing an indefinite time period abroad with so many travels to embark upon with hardly any friends or family to accompany me. You better believe I wasn't going to let the fact that I would be traveling solo stop me. I got over that hurdle. Quickly. 

These past sixteen months have been life changing. Again, if there was a less cliche way to put it, I would. But it's true. Living in another country has changed how I look at life, my priorities and even myself as a person. I wish I had started this blog when I first came here because I've had so many solo adventures. I might write about some of the major ones anyway, even though it's been months since I was at those wonderful places. 

But I've started it now. Which is great timing actually, as I'm about to embark on a solo road trip for three days to drive the Great Ocean Road. Perfect blogging material!

But even after this weekend, I will make sure my wanderlust leads me on so many more adventures. Solo style.