Ashley Dixon was sixteen when she went backpacking for the first time. It was a school-sponsored trip; five of her classmates, a student leader who had once been in their shoes, and two adult faculty members left for ten days of backpacking on a Friday afternoon. For ten days, they called the wilderness of the Smoky Mountains their home. 

 

Raised in Hong Kong, Tokyo, and then Bloomfield Hills, Michigan for high school, Ashley was used to cities and suburbia. Her father was the one that pushed her to try backpacking. Although her family had never been the outdoorsy type, he saw the trip her high school was going on as the perfect opportunity for Ashley to try something new. He signed her up and told Ashley after the fact. None of her friends joined her. The thought of missing family vacations, Instagram, and time for homework—to spend a week in the woods—was too much for them. The trip didn’t even hit capacity. Without the initial push from her father, Ashley may never have figured out how much she loved the outdoors and backpacking in it. How else would she have?

 

Backpacking is a commitment in more ways than one. First off, you can’t just walk into the wilderness without the proper supplies. A proper backpack costs between $100-$500. Hiking books or other supportive footwear average about $100. If you want hot food, you need a camp stove. There’s another $50 right there. For a decent tent, you’ll have to drop another $200-300. All this gear quickly adds up. While it can be a great investment for those looking to turn backpacking into their new hobby, those who just want to test the waters may not be willing or able to make a financial investment. I don’t think I would have. People always like to say that nature is free, yet the hidden costs of backpacking make it pricier than plenty of other activities. 

 

Let’s say you decide to go all in. You buy, rent, or borrow all the gear you need. What now? You tell me. At sixteen, I sure didn’t know how to set up a tent. Even now I sometimes struggle with my camp stove. Well, if you know how to do all that, where are you going? Do you know how to reserve permits? To plan for the worst? To pack your food in big plastic jugs called bear cans to make sure their namesake doesn’t sniff around your tent during the night? This brings us to the next important question, the one your friends and family likely want to know: who are you going with? Or is your first ever backpacking trip going to be solo?

 

All of this is to say that embarking on your first backpacking trip can be overwhelming. Fortunately, the only decision Ashley had to make was to show up. The program at her high school took care of everything. They supplied her with the gear, planned the route, and placed her into a group. In the week beforehand, she even went through a version of Backpacking 101. But besides a safe and affordable space to try out backpacking, Ashley had something else: a mentor. 

 

Zara was Ashley’s student leader on the trip. She was a strong, independent, smart leader—someone that Ashley could look up to, especially since she was only about a year older than her. Before they left, Zara told the group that the trip would change them. Those ten days would be a period of growth for everyone. No matter if they loved it, hated it, or enjoyed it just enough but not enough to do it again, the trip would change them. Zara was a true mentor, leading as the best leaders do: she was there every step of the way, but she let Ashley and the other students figure things out themselves. And figure them out they did. Ashley fell in love with backpacking on that trip. Soon, she became a mentor herself. She served as a student leader the following year and became heavily involved in the Michigan Backpacking Club in college. For Ashley, both experiences were incredibly rewarding. She was their Zara. She helped create a safe space. 

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Grace Lahti had a different introduction to the outdoors than Ashley. Her family was the outdoorsy type, so trips to National Parks were a regular occurrence. She also had friends who were very involved in the outdoor world too. When she was seventeen, she also got the chance to visit a friend of hers that was doing trail maintenance work. That’s when she decided that she wanted to do it too. 

 

She made that dream reality last summer when she was twenty. Through Americorps, she worked as a Conversation intern with the Montana Conservation Corps, logging 450 hours of service. As a member of the Madison Ranger District's trail crew for the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest, she worked to improve trail quality and overall recreation for visitors. Although she covered over 300 miles of trails, there was always more work to be done. Out of the entire crew, she was one of only four women. 

 

Like Ashley, Grace had a mentor during her time in Montana. One of the men she worked with became an outdoor father figure who made sure she always knew what to do. He taught her practical skills, like how to change a tire. But he also made sure that she could handle herself on the trail alone. By the end of the summer, she knew how to use every tool in the workshop: crosscut saws, chainsaws, and non-motorized tools too. 

 

Almost anything outdoorsy you can’t learn from a book. Grace bought five books on fly fishing last year—but according to her, none of them can teach you just the right way to move your arm. If you’re learning how to tie a knot, you need to practice. You can stare at the step-by-step pictures all you want, but odds are you will still be confused without a teacher. With rock climbing, it’s all about feeling. Which holds are right for your body? Every situation is different, so you have to assess and adapt. You learn by talking things out with the people around you. No situation calls for a one-size-fits-all answer. 

 

Whether she’s hiking, rock climbing, fly fishing, or ice climbing, Grace makes it a priority to be a mentor. She takes the time to teach—to create a safe space where others can explore the sport and she can pass on everything she’s learned. If they’re climbing, she won’t be. As Grace put it, the days she’s a mentor aren’t for her to enjoy. She’s there to provide support and guidance. The outdoor world needs more Graces and Ashleys. If there were, it would be a whole lot bigger.