Learning the Difference Between Unsafe and Uncomfortable
Rebecca Sperry
Hiking has taught me a lot but one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is the difference between being unsafe and being uncomfortable. There are many times while hiking that I am uncomfortable, there has only been a small number of times that I’ve been legitimately unsafe (in fact I can only recall one). While spending an exorbitant amount of time hiking solo, I’ve developed some pretty hefty soft skills but before we get to all that, let’s define what soft and hard skills are.
In his book, “Where You’ll Find Me” Ty Gagne does a fantastic job explaining the difference between soft and hard skills. Prior to reading this book, I never thought about how experience making decisions on trail can have life or death consequences. In his book, which paints a picture of the death of Kate Matrosova, a mountaineer, in the winter of 2015, Gagne talks a lot about how Mastrosova’s lack of experience making decisions (which he calls soft skills) is what led to her death (in his opinion). Hard skills, he explained, are things like the physical act of hiking and how to train for endurance sports as well as the physical act of performing the activity. Soft skills are your decision making abilities and your ability to weigh pros and cons of certain situations.
Reading this book, a seed was planted. Even though I didn’t have a significant amount of experience hiking, nor did I feel as though I was the strongest or fastest hiker, I knew that I had a lot of experience making decisions. In fact, that’s all I do as a hiker, is make decisions. Hiking almost exclusively alone for the last eight years has given me thousands of hours of experience deciding what to do while hiking (and I don’t mean just finding ways to keep myself entertained alone in the wilderness).
When I come to a sketchy water crossing, it’s up to me to decide the best course of action. If I am running low on water, I have to use my own experience locating hidden springs or decide if I feel comfortable filtering from puddles on the trail. And it’s up to me to make sure that I carry enough food, water, clothes, etc. to keep me safe and alive in the woods. Navigating unmarked trails, or bushwhacking is something that I enjoy because it gives me the opportunity to not only use my body but to also use my brain. To read the land and figure out my way. I pride myself on my backcountry skillset, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t overcompensate staying in my comfort zone and turn around on hikes because they aren’t pleasant, or because I’m just not feeling like hiking sometimes.
Looking back on the many times in the first four years of my hiking career that I would bail out on a hike because I was either not in the mood, mildly uncomfortable and didn’t feel like pushing myself, or having a panic attack, I’m very aware of the difference between uncomfortable and unsafe. While working on my current hiking goal to complete all of the trails in the White Mountain Guidebook in a set amount of time, there is very little room for this kind of attitude, though. Turning around due to discomfort isn’t an option. I am learning how to walk the line between discomfort and danger.
We live in our comfort zones unless we are forced out of them and even then, we don’t like to be out of them for very long, in my opinion. But all of the growth happens when you push just a little bit further. And then a little bit further than that. You take baby steps, and learn how to maintain your composure on a ridgeline when the winds are just a little bit stronger than you’re used to. You read the clouds and know that although it’s sunny right now, they are starting to gather into a storm so you need to head below the treeline. You stop relying on other people’s opinions or perspectives because you have put in the work and the hours on trail. You know that you’re heading north and that the trail goes that way so you’re heading in the right direction even if there are not many confidence markers. You no longer panic if you get off course, because you never ever go too far in a direction that doesn’t feel right. You’ve learned how to listen to that tiny voice in your head - that guide that knows when something doesn’t feel quite right. Some of the moments that I’ve had my biggest learning experiences on trail started off as moments of panic. But because I’m by myself, I have to figure it out on my own. I can’t rely on someone else to decide and because of that I’ve had to learn how to get myself out of sticky situations (or find the trail because they seem to never be marked well where I hike). I’ve even adopted the phrase, “I’m not lost, I’m just not where I planned to be.”
I walk a fine line between unsafe and uncomfortable but the only time I felt as though I was unsafe, the only time I almost hit my SOS button, was when I wasn’t actually unsafe, or lost, or even hurt, I was just scared out of my mind. The mind is a powerful tool and my mind seems to run on too much anxiety. That experience taught me the difference between actual danger and assumed danger.
Regardless of how much experience you have hiking, you’re never immune to injury. And no matter how fast you are or how well you train for the physical act of hiking, if you can’t make good risk assessments then you’re no more prepared for danger than the person who hikes at half your speed. There is no better teacher than experience and with every mile I put underfoot, I gain that much more of it. I’m learning the difference between discomfort and danger, between uncomfortable and unsafe. There is a line and I hope that I never cross it but I refuse to live in my comfort zone because that’s not where the growth happens.
