On Hiking & Privilege

PCT hikers

Let me start of by saying, I’m a white dude. I understand that my perspective on privilege perhaps isn’t the most valuable- yet here I am… so, you don’t have to read it.

Often, I’ve found that my time in the backcountry reflects “normal” life. That is to say, a lot of the same principles often apply. For example, hard work pays off, take it one day at a time, put one foot in front of the other, etc. etc. This has been especially evident during my time spent thru-hiking. However, the more time I spend in the backcountry, the more light is shed on those negative principles that also apply.

Most prevalent of those is privilege. The thru-hiking community is filled with mostly male, affluent, white people. It’s painfully white, almost 100% white. Additionally, 75% of thru-hikers hold a bachelors or masters degree. On top of that, due to the nature of thru-hiking, everyone on trail can afford both, six months off of work, and ~$1000/month in expenses. So not only is the backcountry extremely white, it’s also extremely wealthy and well educated.

And that’s just hiking, sports like climbing and skiing, on top of the time off and the remoteness of where they take place, require huge monetary investments. Making them even less accessible.

So- it follows that, the less accessible a space is, the more resources (or privilege), required to reach that space.

A place like the Appalachian Trail experiences this to a lesser degree than, for example, a place like the Pacific Crest Trail. This has everything to do with accessibility. The Appalachian trail runs through significantly more towns than the PCT; and the parts of the Appalachian Trail that don’t run through towns are still close enough to them that they are still more or less accessible without hours of driving. As a result, while still very white, the demographic you find on the Appalachian Trail comes from a more varied economic background.

In contrast, a place like the Pacific Crest Trail, where trailheads can be hours from any major town, is going to be far more resource heavy when it comes to a thru-hike. The PCT is longer, requires more equipment (bear canister/ice axe), and is less accessible than the Appalachian Trail. In my experience, the result is a more elitist population of hikers on the PCT.

Via http://www.halfwayanywhere.com

The PCT is often people’s second or third thru-hike. The result is a culture that is less accepting, more judgmental, and more competitive. As silly as it sounds, there is such a things as gear-shaming, and it’s something I’ve witnessed more than once. It usually takes the form of veteran hikers putting down less experienced hikers who don’t have the most ultralight equipment; and all it does is exacerbate an already toxic culture. The sentiment of making beginners feel unwelcome permeates many of the outdoor communities.

So, obviously this is a problem. The same communities that are marginalized in society continue to encounter marginalization in these outdoor spaces. The fact that so many people aren’t able to access these spaces actually takes away the legitimacy of the backcountry. The backcountry should be for everyone to enjoy, not some adrenaline-fueled country club.

Like the rest of society right now, the outdoors community is having a reckoning. Looking at itself hard in the mirror, and seeing many of the same problems. I don’t have all the answers. There can be no justice in the backcountry without societal justice. Possible solutions begin with wealth redistribution, affordable housing, universal healthcare, combating climate change, and reparations. Like I said, life in the backcountry often reflects our society, and I think only once we begin to address the societal problems we see everyday, can we begin to see progress in our outdoor communities.