Okay look, Planning Your First Solo Adventure i just got feedback that my last post had way too much passive voice—like 26.9% of sentences apparently, which is… a lot more than the 10% people say is ideal. so i’m rewriting this one trying really hard to keep things active, direct, me doing stuff, you get it. if i slip, call me out, seriously.
planning your first solo adventure still feels like the scariest/exciting thing i’ve done in years. right now i sit here in my tiny portland apartment, rain smacking the window again, dog snoring on my feet, and i think back to that yellowstone trip that almost didn’t happen because i overthought every single detail.
I Almost Never Took My First Solo Adventure (Here’s Why I Finally Did)
i sat in traffic on I-5 one random tuesday, listened to the same sad playlist loop, and suddenly decided i needed to drive somewhere—anywhere—alone. i opened my phone and searched “yellowstone solo camping” at a sketchy rest stop. heart raced. palms sweaty. classic.
planning your first solo adventure mostly involves overthinking. i wrote lists. then i wrote lists about the lists. then i panicked because i forgot emergency snacks. i almost canceled everything after reading one reddit horror story about bears. my sister finally texted me “you drive to mom’s house every weekend, you can handle montana.” she had a point.
i booked the trip anyway. i drove. i survived. and yeah, i loved parts of it.
check out REI’s solo travel benefits article if you want someone way more eloquent than me explaining why going alone resets your brain.
I Planned My First Solo Adventure Like a Stressed-Out Lunatic
here’s exactly how i did it (mistakes included):
- i chose yellowstone and grand teton because i could drive there from the pnw. no airports, no passports, less panic.
- i budgeted terribly at first. i thought $800 covered ten days. gas prices laughed at me. i ate way too many gas station burritos to stay under budget.
- i used AllTrails for hikes and downloaded offline maps on Gaia GPS because cell service disappears the second you enter the park.
- i texted my rough itinerary to my mom and sister. mom sent daily “still breathing?” check-ins. i answered with thumbs-up emojis and zero dignity.
if you want a better packing list than the chaotic one i used, Switchback Travel’s solo backpacking gear guide actually saved me on my second trip.
I Did Some Cringey Stuff During My First Solo Adventure
day four i cried in a billings walmart parking lot because the motel i booked looked suspicious and i refused to risk bed bugs. i slept in my car instead. it smelled like spilled energy drinks and bad decisions.
a cop pulled me over in idaho for speeding. he asked why i traveled alone. i blurted “quarter-life crisis” like an idiot. he laughed, let me off with a warning, but i still wanted to disappear.
i talked to myself on trails. out loud. a lot. other hikers probably thought i lost it. maybe i did a little.
I Learned These Things the Hard Way About Planning Your First Solo Adventure
if i could time-travel and yell at past-me, i’d shout:
- start tiny. one night at a nearby state park beats jumping into a two-week odyssey.
- pack extra underwear. always. don’t ask why. just do it.
- loneliness hits. boredom hits harder. both feel normal. let them pass.
- diners save you. cheap coffee, okay wifi, and locals who drop trail recommendations like it’s nothing.
- screenshot maps, reservations, everything. twice. cell service lies.
for more real talk (especially if you’re traveling solo as a woman but honestly it applies), Matador Network’s solo travel tips helped me more than i expected.
okay i’m stopping now (i think)
planning your first solo adventure never looks perfect. you eat weird food, cry in parking lots, talk to yourself, question everything. then you hit a sunrise overlook with no one else around and suddenly you understand why people do this.
