A Woman's Place is in the Outdoors

Femininity in the Outdoors

In recent years, women have made major strides in outdoor sports, reclaiming space that was once considered off-limits or “unfeminine.”

In snowboarding, a field that still feels largely male-dominated, this shift has created a powerful sense of camaraderie among women.

We’re building our own community and supporting each other in intentional, uplifting ways, even amid a male-dominated scene.

Being a woman participating in outdoor recreation is no longer taboo, but these sports and activities still come with the burden of breaking stereotypes and showing up as our most authentic, feminine selves.

One creator shared a video with a hack to have “slut-strands”—two pieces of hair that you keep out of your helmet to show you’re a girl— even if you don’t have long enough hair. She used clip-in extensions. This method not only protects your hair, but also makes women who don’t have the type of hair to adorn this style feel included and pretty. Men flocked to the comments, calling this idea stupid a

nd vain. I say “to hell with them!”

If women want to express themselves on the mountain, let them. If you’re a snowboarder who wants to ditch the baggy style and wear a fitted skisuit, you should! If you want to wear a full face of makeup on a powder day or during your thru-hike, more power to ya! We should all be able to express our femininity how we please without fear of judgment from anyone. Slap on your (biodegradable) glitter, and get out there.

More brands dedicated to women-focused gear are stepping into the spotlight, showing growing demand for gear designed by and for women. These brands don’t just focus on function; they also help women feel seen and valued in outdoor spaces. It’s easier and more accessible than ever to find gear designed for women’s bodies—from ski boots that accommodate the female calf anatomy to pants designed to fit our hips!

Ultimately, while there’s still progress to be made, the outdoors are becoming a more inclusive, empowering place for women, one where femininity and strength can coexist and thrive.

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“Bro” Culture

As a content creator of the minority gender in my chosen sport, the “bros” come running to my comments every time I post a snowboarding clip—mansplaining and judging my looks, body, form, and humor.

Bro culture often involves high-energy, competitive dynamics, and a focus on pushing boundaries.

This can be inspiring, but it can also set a tone where only certain voices and perspectives are heard.

For example, in snowboarding or climbing, there’s sometimes pressure to perform at high levels or "go hard," which can overshadow individual growth, safe progression, or even just enjoying the outdoors at your own pace.

For those not fitting into this "bro" stereotype, the culture can feel exclusionary, leading to feelings of imposter syndrome.

Many people and groups are pushing back against this culture, striving to create more inclusive spaces focusing on camaraderie and shared enjoyment rather than pure performance.

Organizations like SheJumps and Brown Girls Climb, along with women-only brands like Halfdays and Nobody’s Princess, are leading the charge to redefine what it means to participate in these spaces, emphasizing that outdoor sports are for everyone, not just those who fit the mold of traditional "bro" culture.

Sending It Safely

Woof. As a woman who loves solo adventures, this is a big one. Women must take additional precautions when venturing into the backcountry beyond the minimum preparedness required for the other gender.

From letting multiple people know each and every time I go on a hike—where I’m going and when I am expected to check back in—to not sharing stories on my public Instagram account until I am safely back within the confines of my home, we’ve got to be ultra-vigilant, or we’re an easy target for the worst.

Hell, I joke that I carry my bear spray on every hike, not for the animals, but because of people. Hypervigilance is crucial as a woman, something we’ve been taught since we were children. It’s not different than in cities, but it feels like a heavier burden of preparation as someone who enjoys solo hiking and camping.

As for camping, I tend to wear a fake engagement ring, pack an extra chair, and never let my neighbors know I am there alone. Camping at an established site where I have a reservation with my name helps me feel safe and accounted for. Trusting your gut is essential; if something feels off—especially when you’re camping or hiking alone—trust it and always have an exit plan.

Another aspect of safety goes back to the “bro” culture I unpacked above. Time and time again, I am riding with a group of men who push it super hard. At the beginning of my snowboarding journey, it was hard to speak up. Advocating for my safety is so important, especially in a group.

There’ve been times on hikes and snowboarding when I’ve felt that gut pull—like, I know pushing myself is good, but not this much. Whether it’s deciding to skip a sketchy trail section or opting out of a run that feels off, I’ve learned to trust that instinct.

Speaking up if you’re uncomfortable or need to adjust the plan isn’t just about you; it keeps everyone safe. Adventure is about pushing limits but doing it smart.

Body Issues

Body positivity in the outdoors has been a journey for me, but snowboarding and hiking have totally reshaped how I view my body—not as something to look at or scrutinize, but as a powerful tool.

On the mountain or trail, I’m not thinking about how my body looks; I’m focused on what it can do and how it carries me through incredible places. These activities have taught me to be proud of my strength and resilience. Every hike, every turn on my board, is a reminder of what I’m capable of and how amazing it is to be able to move in nature.

The more I’ve focused on experiences and achievements, the less I care about fitting a certain look or size.

When I’m outside, my body feels like a vehicle for adventure and freedom, and that shift has been so incredibly healing and grounding.

Hiking and snowboarding remind me to appreciate the present moment, to be grateful for the power of my legs on a steep ascent or the stability of my core in deep snow. Each challenge makes me stronger and shows me that my body is enough just as it is.

I know it might sound a little strange for me to speak on body positivity after losing weight over the past year, but hear me out: I’m doing this for me. I’m not motivated by societal pressures, and I don't feel I have anyone to impress. I know that, at any size, I’m strong, smart, and capable, and that won’t change.

What has changed is how I approach caring for my body.

I gave up alcohol because it made me feel better, more present, and healthier overall. I’m more mindful about what I fuel it with and how I move it, but not as a punishment or to fit a specific image. I only move in ways that bring me joy, like hiking and snowboarding, where I get to appreciate all my body can do. And any external validation? I don’t need it. This journey is personal—it's about honoring my body, my strengths, and my values, whatever my size.