Remaining Relevant in the Outdoors Industry
Rebecca Sperry
Every spring a new class of thru-hiker (hopefuls) flock to one of the three triple-crown hiking trails and every year a handful of them become well-known within the hiking community. Whether they set out with the intention of growing a following on social media or not, there are always a few people that seem to garnish a large majority of the attention by brands, social media-holics, and the hiking community as a whole.
Finding yourself in the spotlight can be invigorating. I know because when I was going through cancer treatment, my following grew by leaps and bounds. All of a sudden everyone wanted to know my story. I did over a dozen podcast interviews and had all sorts of influencers reaching out to wish me well. But what happens when your time in the limelight fades? When the thru-hike comes to an end, or you are no longer the new interesting topic? How do you remain relevant in the outdoor industry and what is it like to go from “instafamous” to a “once popular?”
Trying to remain relevant in the outdoor industry is hard. Over the last seven years, I’ve been deeply involved in following thru-hikers, ultrarunners, and day hikers via social media. While working as the social media intern at The Trek in 2019, I saw first-hand how fast people can gain popularity and instant notoriety in the hiking community. I have also seen how quickly people click the “unfollow button” as soon as a thru-hike ends and another one isn’t already in the works. There is an exorbitant amount of pressure to keep hiking in order to remain relevant, and for those who want to make a living as certified hikertrash, that burden is multiplied tenfold.
The pressure to perform, to be interesting, to keep hiking lest you lose your following and hikertrash title, sucks. I know because I’ve been in the position of feeling like I need to continue to perform, rehash my cancer journey, and continue to talk about the most traumatic year of my life publicly in order to remain relevant. It feels like if people aren’t interested in your life anymore, all of that interest, all of the support that you received while on a thru-hike (or in cancer treatment) was just for show. Our lives have become free reality TV shows that run for only one season before being replaced by the next season of shows. For some, our income is derived from that “job” and for others our self-worth is. This drives us to keep performing. This drives us to keep hiking even when the passion is not there anymore (or when we have started a new chapter of our lives and moved on).
A single thru-hike is not exciting enough anymore unless it is followed by another, and once you’ve done two of the triple crown trails, it’s assumed you’re going to do all three and then quietly step out of the spotlight to make room for the next class of triple-crowners. But this vicious cycle that continues to play out in the hiking community has many negative consequences.
There are many downsides to this change in philosophy of why we hike. Trails are becoming overcrowded due to the number of thru-hiker hopefuls that hit the single-track every year. Post-trail depression and identity-crises plague those who only complete one 2,000+ mile trail, (as if that wasn’t a big enough accomplishment). And influencer-culture has driven people to claim to complete thru-hikes for publicity when they, in fact, did not.
Since 2020, there have been a few podcast episodes that have aired discussing the influencer culture and the impact that has on our corner of the internet. I’ve pondered over this shift and even played a part in making it happen. Regardless of whether we like it or not, though, this is the way of the future. While it is disheartening to see some of my friends feel like they’re being left in the dust because they only did one thru-hike, or because they are losing income because they’re no longer the influencer of choice for the brand sponsorships, I want to believe that something good can come from trying to remain relevant in the outdoor industry.
For me, hiking is just part of life. It is what I do, and I acknowledge my privilege in being able to hit the trails at least once a week because I need that for my own mental health. The pressure to do something Instagram-worthy now that I’m technically done with cancer treatment, though, is still there. I still feel pressure to perform in order to remain relevant on social media and as an aspiring writer in this industry I know that I have a certain level of added expectation in terms of how much I hike (whether I feel like it or not). Rather than being frustrated by that pressure, though, I use it to motivate me to get outside. I rely on that pressure when I am not in the mood to go hiking, and once I’m in the woods, I’m always happy that I didn’t stay home and binge watch Netflix.
I don’t think that going back to how the thru-hiking community was before social media is an option or the answer to the influencer-culture and social media pressure on hikers. I think finding a happy medium is. We must accept that this is the way of the future and perhaps change how we interact with each other within our niche. I choose to keep hiking because it makes me feel good. I applaud those who have followed whatever passion makes them feel the same, even if it isn’t on a long trail. Ultimately, life is too short to do that which doesn’t bring you some form of happiness. And you get to decide what source you derive that happiness from.
