You Don’t Have to Send It, Bro
I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but you don’t have to “send it.”
You don’t have to “kill” it.
You don’t have to “crush” anything.
You don’t have to “bag” that peak.
You don’t have to “shred” that mountain.
You don’t have to “smash” your PR (or anything else).
Hey, if you want to, go for it. But as a more mellow outdoor adventurer, this kind of language really rubs me the wrong way. If it chafes you a bit too, read on.
When I fled the big city 3½ years ago, I landed in a tiny town on the Oregon-Washington border with lots of sunshine and tons of great hiking trails. The area also happened to have an extremely high concentration of kiteboarders, whitewater kayakers, and mountain bikers. Personally, I’m frightened by those sports. I prefer to move more slowly through time and space (and I hate getting hurt). Hiking is my outdoor jam—I absolutely love being outside and walking around in the mountains.
Here’s me doing something super boring: hiking.
But as I was meeting new people and making new friends, people in this town would say things to me like, “Ugh, hiking? Like, just walking? So boring,” and, “God, I hate hiking,” and “I never hike unless I have to, I’d rather do something fun.” This kind of conversation happened all the time.
So, first of all...rude! If someone tells you they’re into Shakespeare, they spend a lot of time enjoying Shakespeare, and Shakespeare is pretty much their favorite thing ever, you don’t tell them you think Shakespeare is super lame and boring, do you? Rude.
And second of all, this kind of conversation is indicative of a larger problem in the outdoors community—the all-too-common tendency among elite and/or adrenaline-driven athletes to pass judgment on mellow and/or new-to-the-scene outdoor adventurers.
Here’s another example, which happened to me during my PCT hike more times than I can count.
Them: “I did 33 yesterday. How about you?”
Me: “Um, I did about 17.”
Them: “Heh. Not gonna make it to Canada at that rate.”
Me: ...
(Sidenote: I made it to Canada. This hiker chose not to, too disgusted to carry on.)
This hyper-competitive paradigm reeks of toxic masculinity. It pits outdoor users against each other. It pushes us to compare ourselves to others and assign a kind of moral value to our outdoor experience.
And this assessment leads to a very dangerous assumption: that people who are more experienced (or even just more willing to take risks with their bodies) are somehow better, cooler, or more deserving of our shared outdoor spaces. Plus, it’s textbook ableism.
Look, the outdoors isn’t just for shredders and killers and smashers. The outdoors is also for amblers and relaxers and curious new explorers.
Everyone belongs outdoors, and everyone needs the outdoors.
The outdoors are for you if you wanna take a scenic drive, stop at the top for a view, and then go home.
The outdoors are for you if you wanna take a short hike, breathe in the piney air, and then meander back to your car.
The outdoors are for you if you wanna summit a volcano and ski back down it...but of course, if this is your thing, you likely aren’t questioning your belonging.
As an experienced backpacker, I’m committed to changing the conversation and the tone about the outdoors. I’m here to welcome you, to inspire you, to educate you (if you’d like), and to empower you to explore the outdoors with confidence. Because you belong, whether you wanna send it or stroll it.
📍Native lands of the Methow and Syilx tmixʷ (Okanagan)
p.s. I’m also committed to telling the truth about the lands we live and play on, which were stolen from Indigenous peoples who were lied to, murdered, and systematically disenfranchised. We cannot talk about recreating in the outdoors without bringing this key element of our nation’s history into the conversation.
Hey! I’m Caroline—nutritionist, hiker, and author.
I help women stop stressing about food, build confidence, and have more fun. Let’s work together.