Wake-up call
Although I never met her, I have a very pleasant image of who Sarah was. An experienced solo hiker with many miles and stories under her belt, she lived for the moments that led her to dirty trails, muddy shoes, and a less-than-glamorous up-do. Undefined by her age, her choice of stimulant was adrenaline; she was always up for anything, a one-of a kind, passionate soul who lived, for the most part, free of stress and worries. She was kind, and authentic, and bold; the embodiment of the strong and independent woman I strive to be. Sarah also lost her life after a mysterious fall along the Lebanon Mountain Trail while spreading her father’s ashes along the path and fulfilling his dream of exploring their ancestral roots. She was a little over 50 years old.
Sarah’s close friend Lisa spent more than a year internally battling grief and confusion trying to provide answers to an otherwise vague description of the circumstances surrounding her beloved hiking partner’s passing. In her beautifully written essay “How to survive overconfidence”, Lisa reminisces of the day she met Sarah on the Tahoe Rim Trail, the solid friendship that developed from there, their 3-week trip to South Utah, the e-mail she received with the gut-wrenching news, and what was it about Sarah that made her so prone to such a tragedy. Gale Straub from She Explores masterfully interviewed Lisa to uncover more of the feelings that surface for every person that reads Lisa’s essay, and provide an in-depth discussion on the “overconfidence effect”, which is Lisa’s hypothesis of the root cause of her friend’s death. You can hear the podcast episode and/or read the essay here.
When I first learned about Sarah, her spirit, her drive, her innocence, and ultimately, her death, it was like I took an unexpected blow to the chest. Here I was listening to two complete strangers describing me. Sarah’s story shook my world because I am her and she was me and she supposedly fell off a cliff in Lebanon but nobody will ever know for sure, and I myself have been near the edge many times, a step away from the abyss, only to miraculously make it home safe time and time again. I’ve been a victim of my own overconfidence and it’s sickening to even think about all the times that I’ve deliberately put myself in harm’s way just for the thrill, the adrenaline rush that I, like Sarah, also live on. To this day, her story still knots my throat up and reduces me to a teary-eyed mess.
I am and will always be an advocate for women to find their song and rhyme on their own, but I know from firsthand experience that the trails can get cold and lonely and the streets will sometimes hide evil under its shadows. Solo travel, as empowering and freeing as it is, comes with its own few caveats. For one, it can be outright terrifying the first or first few times you go through it. For you, ladies, self-doubt and fear are amplified by the unconscious cultural stigma we all carry that deems us “unprepared”, “vulnerable”, “weak”, or “unfitting” to experience life alone. However, as wrong and hurtful as those self-imposed preconceptions of your womanly nature are, the opposite scenario is probably more dangerous. Once you’re no longer an amateur and feel comfortable in your solitude, you open the doors to becoming complacent, overconfident. You slack off in your planning, you forego the mace spray, you start sleeping under the stars, you bike through the city park at a 1 AM… it only takes one careless decision to “fall off a cliff” and never be heard of again. Although my mission to promote self-reliance and love through solo travel will never cease, I feel I owe it to Sarah, to myself, and you, my dreamy and wanderlust-filled readers, to remind you that the experiences that come about from being careless are not the ones you want to pursue.
You will be your own worst enemy when you’re out there by yourself. Being aware of the proneness to overconfidence is the first step towards counteracting its effects. For me, Sarah’s story was a real wake-up call. When this post goes live, I will have either attempted or will be in the process of attempting the Presidential Traverse, a 19.5 mile day hike along New Hampshire’s White Mountains, an area known to have the country’s worst and unpredictable weather. What I would have left to chance before, I have reconsidered and prepared for as best as I can; I’m going out there aware of my limitations and knowing what my risk acceptable level is. I do this now not because I’m scared, or feel incompetent, or think I’m weak and unfitting for the challenge ahead, but because I want to come back, share my experiences, hug my boyfriend, cuddle with my dog, spend time with family... and I can't afford thoughtless actions to restrain me from so much living later on.
If you have had similar experiences with the overconfidence bias when you've been on your own, or struggle with some of the fears I mentioned, please reach out to me. This blog is meant to be communal, and my hope is that you find a home in and between the content posted. Thanks for reading!