The Real Problem With Shaming Newbie Hikers

And How It Creates A Culture That Can Put Lives At Risk

Hiking culture is notorious for being highly elitist. There’s this exclusionary club whose core pillars are trail gatekeeping, requiring that you participate in extreme sports to be a part of the “club”, and making people feel less-than for not having appropriate gear.

And frankly, for anyone trying to get into hiking or just looking to have a recreational escape, this problematic behavior can be truly exhausting.

As someone whose job quite literally revolves around hiking and outdoors adventures, I spend a lot of my time outside. And much of that time involves preparing the people I work with for their outdoors excursions. Needless to say, I’ve run into hiker elitism more time than I’d like to recall.

For starters, we have the completely unsolicited words from self-proclaimed “expert” hikers (us ladies have either witnessed or personally experienced a bro hiker on the trail at some point telling us we’re doing a really challenging trek “for a girl”).

Or we have the absolutely vicious commentary when someone doesn’t wear the right shoes for a trail (because God forbid someone opt to wear their Teva sandals during parts of a backpacking excursion to give their feet some time to breathe).

And my personal favorite: when you come across a hiker who acts like the trails should only be reserved for the most serious of adventurers. If they stumble across a young family or a couple retirees, you know they’re whispering something rude under their breath.

But here’s what everyone misses in this discussion. This elitist culture where newer hikers and adventurers are afraid to ask for advice or help because of judgement from the seasoned pros can quite literally be life-threatening. Let’s dig into why.

Is Elitist Culture Leading People To Get Outside Less Often?

Every year, the Outdoor Industry Association (OIA) publishes an in-depth report on hiking and outdoors recreation participation and trends. Their most recent study has a really fascinating finding: while we’re seeing more people than ever before participating in outdoors recreation, they’re doing it less frequently.

According to the report’s findings, in the past ten years, there has been a more than 26% decline in the frequency of outings. So essentially, while we may be seeing greater total participation in the outdoors nowadays, when people do go out, each person is actually doing it less often.

I can’t help but hypothesize that part of this might just be due to the exclusionary nature of hiking, coupled with the elitist, shame-centric views on gear that’s frankly out of touch with reality in today’s economic climate.

Let’s dig a bit deeper.

The Outdoor “Brain Drain”

Year over year, we’re seeing a massive influx of “dabblers” in the outdoor space. People who may be having their first ever encounters with hiking trails and the complexities that come with recreating safely.

On top of that, OIA’s report shows that there are less of what they refer to as “core participants”. Basically, they’re the people who spent a lot of time outside. They’re the seasoned pros.

More new hikers and less experienced hikers on the trails to share their knowledge and best practices? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. Couple that with the massive layoffs currently happening in the parks system (with safety-focused rangers losing their jobs), and we have a bit of a safety crisis.

When The Fear of Asking Questions Creates Life-Threatening Risks

So we have less experts left to pass on their knowledge and expertise, and many of the ones that we have left believe that shaming new adventurers is the way to go. Things couldn’t possible go wrong, could they?

I’m sure we can all remember a time in school when a teacher said there are no dumb questions. And while the saying is cliche, for many of us, that statement really did give us the courage to ask questions we otherwise might be afraid to ask, for fear of ridicule.

The same thing applies to the outdoor industry. We have a serious problem where the elitist seasoned pros basically make it a game to poke fun at newer hikers making mistakes.

Perhaps it’s harmless when it has to do with something small, like someone wearing jeans on a hiking trail with leftover snow and small water crossings that are sure to soak the fabric and leave you freezing the entire hike.

But sometimes, it’s not so harmless. Like when you opt to scoff at the hiker making their way up a 14er in the early afternoon after you’re coming down the mountain. You can clearly see storm clouds rolling in and know that the risk of being above treeline during that time of day is huge. But instead of saying something about the risk of being struck by lightning at elevation, you go on an angsty rant on social media about how people like that shouldn’t be on the mountain at all.

We’re basically breeding a culture of new hikers who are downright terrified to ask questions, because they’ve seen the consequences either in person or online of what happens when you make a mistake in the wilderness.

And so they don’t ask the question. They take the risk without consulting someone who knows a bit more than them. They decide embarrassment is not a price they want to pay. And they maybe, just maybe, they put their life at risk as a result of it.

Whose Fault Is It Really?

American culture is all about personal responsibility. I can already see it now, the hikers reading this saying your own safety is up to you and you only. That no one owes you anything.

Sure, sure, I get it. And there’s some truth to it…we, as seasoned hikers, technically don’t owe the newbies anything. But if we want to create a hiking culture where people respect the trails we love and act in accordance with hiking etiquette, I hate to break it to you, but it’s our responsibility to foster that type of climate.

Here’s the thing: not everyone who gets into outdoors adventure does it for the thrill, adrenaline rush, or the desire to be world-class at it. Some people crave it for the way it slows down the world around them; for the escape from the monotony of the every day.

Some people just want a reminder that the big problems we all think we’re dealing with are really just a tiny piece of a much larger puzzle. They don’t treat the outdoors as a sport, and they don’t always know all the best practices. But to shame them for that rather than respectfully help? That’s not a cute look.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Part of me can’t help but wonder if it’s all really just a bit of imposter syndrome these elitist adventurers are experiencing. Somewhere in their lives they feel like the novice, and the only way to make that feeling less frightening is to assert their authority and superiority in the realms they consider themselves well-versed.

The thing is, nobody likes the jerk who makes them feel less-than. And frankly, some of the best friendships I’ve made are with people who have taught me something about the outdoors without making me feel subpar for not already knowing everything.

And their generosity is exactly the reason I created this little newsletter in the first place; to pay it forward and share what I know to the next round of adventurers. Because frankly, there’s enough space for all of us in the outdoors.

In my next post (going live in one week), I’ll share the seven pieces of safety gear I never hike without. Because we’re not gatekeeping the essentials. Everyone deserves to be prepared in the wilderness.