Open Mic is the series on BLISTER where we invite various people in the outdoor industry to say what they have to say, and share whatever it is they feel like sharing at this particular point in time.
Today, we hear from Luke Koppa:
The concept of “community” seems inherently linked to just about any outdoor activity. And often, it’s one of the best parts — just as big of a reason you come to love a given pursuit as the activity itself. Common interests form links between individuals, but there’s something particularly bonding about things like shivering together at a bivy; wheezing through a conversation on a punchy uphill pedal; communicating via primitive hoots and hollers when the snow is that good, etc.
Recently, however, my own outdoor outings haven’t involved much of that. In fact, most of them haven’t involved any human interaction at all.
Of course, my initial self-effacing inclination is to make a joke about it being due to my lack of friends. And as much room for improvement as I have to do on that front, that’s not the entire reason.
Nor is it some stoic predisposition to bask in the glory of mother nature with no other human around to spoil that interaction. I’m great at overthinking things, but my overthinking is more of the “Did I clear my throat too loud in the self-checkout line?” varietal than the “Is the presence of my closest friends impeding on my overall experience with this Juniper tree?” type.
Nope, it mostly just comes down to incompatible modern schedules. You see, most of my friends work retail, and therefore need to be on the clock when customers are actually around, whereas I typically follow a routine of doing most of my work Mon-Fri and using Saturdays and Sundays to really take advantage of all the cool non-work stuff there is to do in the Gunnison Valley.
So while my friends are logging what’d be their Wednesday or Thursday shift in a typical Mon-Fri workweek, I’m left figuring out what my Saturday or Sunday is going to look like.
That’s something I wouldn’t blame anyone for complaining about, and I often wish it wasn’t the case. But it has presented me with something that I pretty much never sought or experienced before: a whole lot of (really fun) outings with just me, myself, and I.
In the past few years, I’ve spent more time doing my favorite outdoor activities fully solo-dolo than I probably ever have.
I’d love to tell you that this reduction in outdoor companionship has resulted in some revelationary conclusions that have changed my life forever and granted me utter, complete inner peace, but that’d be a lie.
Rather, it’s made me appreciate both sides of the spectrum — I’ve found value in experiencing these wonderful activities and places all by my lonesome, while simultaneously gaining a greater appreciation for getting to share those things with people I really like.
So without further ado, here are some ramblings and ramifications of being squad-less in the outdoors:
(1) It’s Better Than Not Doing The Thing
I can definitely appreciate doing a whole lot of nothing once I’m finally done with a work week. There are many instances where all I (think I) want to do is to lay on the couch, stuff my face with massive volumes of sugar, fat, and salt, and forget about long hours in front of the computer while I whimsically scroll through whatever a certain algorithm thinks will keep me entertained for 96 minutes. I’ve done it. I’ll do it again.
However, one of the few unceasing truths in my life seems to be that, if I push past that inclination and instead decide to go do something aside from what I just described … I will not regret it. Even if it ends up sucking by most standards.
Trying to cast flies in tumbleweed-ripping winds or skiing 6 inches of snow over straight dirt always seems to provide more numerous, more significant, more valuable memories than a day spent horizontal on a plush couch.
In the past, the fact that “None Of My Friends Are Free” to do the thing with me has kept me from doing it. But as that scenario has become more of the norm than the exception, it’s also become less of a reason to bail.
So instead, I’ve been doing a whole lot of the outdoor things I love, regardless of whether I’ve got someone to chat with throughout the day. And while those days are lacking in certain regards, they’ve still been a whole lot more fulfilling, worthwhile, and memorable than if I had opted to sulk in loneliness.
(2) Thinking For (or To) Yourself
As I alluded to above, my mind is great at going into overdrive and pondering realities that are anything but, spinning into anxieties that will only ever be applicable to my typically over-caffeinated imagination.
Given that, I tend to avoid letting my hyperactive brain have its way with my thoughts, instead opting to keep it occupied with endless music playlists, various podcasts, etc. I can’t help but feel a little proud when Spotify tells me that I’ve spent more days / hours in the past year with some sort of audio pumping into my ears than anyone else I know. I’m still chasing that 100-day total though…
But whether it’s because my headphones’ batteries simply can’t endure a full day of output or I finally concede that listening to what’s physically around me is a better choice, my friend-less time biking, fishing, or skiing often leads to some very worthwhile back and forth with myself.
Even if you’re not like me and don’t deliberately overwhelm your psyche with stimulation throughout every waking hour, there’s something about being outside and alone that tends to bring forth the important, forgotten, or even mundane topics you might otherwise be free to ignore. I’m still searching for that magical epiphany that changes my life, but I’ve experienced a whole lot of useful conclusions while “thoughtlessly” throwing flies at fish, pedaling up singletrack, and bashing down mogul lines.
(3) Flip Side: No Volume Limit
I love music so much. And I love loud music even more.
While conversations are great, it’s hard to both hold one and listen to your favorite tunes as loud as you want. Let alone sing along in a heinously off-key fashion.
Singing (horribly) to my favorite songs while maxing out my car’s speakers is one of my favorite things, and the ability to do so is one of the many silver linings of not being able to fill the passenger seat of my car while on the way to whichever trail, stream, or run is particularly good at the time.
(4) Learn More About Yourself & The Stuff You Like
During the winter, I spend more time skiing by myself than with others. And I think that’s a huge reason why I’ve been able to (slowly) progress as much as I’ve been able to. Same goes for biking and fishing.
Cause when I’m doing these things without anyone else, there’s only so much I can focus on. If my buddy is in front of me, I’m often looking at them to see what they’re up to. If it’s just me, the sensations of my ski edges, fly line, bike tires, etc. are the primary things on my mind.
Being able to fully focus on what I’m doing at the present moment is somewhat rare these days, and removing outside participants from the equation makes that a whole simpler. Bouncing off point #3 above, if I throw in a perfectly curated playlist, that makes for a pretty ideal recipe for enjoyment and progression. If you’ve seen me at Mt. Crested Butte during the winter, yelled at me, and failed to get a response, I apologize. I was most likely blasting FIDLAR with no attention paid to the outside world.
(5) Do Stuff You Might Not Do Otherwise
I don’t love camping for camping’s sake, but I opted to do some solo camping outings this past summer. I figured I’d discover some deep introspections about the nature of my ego or something like that.
Turns out, I just realized I get bored really fast. Once the sun went down and there was no one to chat with by the campfire, I realized I needed to find some way to entertain myself until I got tired enough to fall asleep on an air mattress that barely padded the rocks below.
So, I threw an axe at some trees. Repeatedly. Turns out, that’s really fun. I did that until my axe broke, which was probably the universe telling me it was time for bed.
But I doubt I would’ve ever done that had I had conscious people around with which to discuss all the philosophical quandaries us homo sapiens must confront in this modern age. Or more realistically, talk about the status of the ball-thrower the team of the city we were born in had opted to employ in a given year.
(6) It Makes the Grass Greener
While I’ve just spilled many words and characters detailing why other people should ditch their friends and (theoretically) join me in peerless outdoor pursuits, my overarching conclusion is actually the opposite of that.
I’ve come to appreciate my lonesome time spent outside, but paradoxically, that time has made me all the more appreciative of when I do get to enjoy it with the people whose company I enjoy.
Like most things in life, it’s a matter of striking a balance. Days when you’re the main (read: only) character can be awesome in certain regards, but as anyone who’s read Into The Wild knows, there’s a limit to these benefits.
I recently had two of the best days fishing I’d ever experienced in Colorado, and upon looking at the photos and videos I took from those two outings, the main thing that kept coming to mind was “Man, I wish I had someone to share it with.”
Heading solo into the mountains, hills, rivers, or creeks has not presented me with some life-changing ability to be completely content with weekend isolation. Rather, it’s helped me realize the benefits and drawbacks of both sides of the spectrum.
And mostly, if you’re someone who has avoided venturing out when your companions’ schedules aren’t compatible, I’d encourage you to just go for it anyway — you might hate it, you might love it, and / or you might find that it makes you value the days you get to spend with your closest companions just that much more.
About Luke Koppa
Luke is a skier, biker, fish-er, camera clicker, apparel / fashion dork, and the managing editor at Blister, among other things.
Thanks for your thoughts and writings; it is an interesting read.
What about backcountry skiing without friends? Seems sketchy, but I don’t know a lot of people that backcountry ski or want to with a 65 yr old. but I still want to get out….what is a good solution?
I like to backcountry ski alone sometimes, but only on low tide days and easy gradients. It’s basically XC skiing minus the XC skis. It’s definitely more of a meditative experience rather than something that gets your adrenaline pumping but I personally really enjoy that.
I very rarely ski in the backcountry by myself. I’ll sometimes make an exception if I’m extremely confident in the stability of the snow in a particular zone; this is pretty much only in the spring and summer when the snow has consolidated, on mellow lines that aren’t far from town. But that’s the one thing I almost never do alone, due to the risk.
As for finding touring partners, that’s definitely tricky; one recommendation I can make is to get in touch with your local avalanche center and/or ski shop and just ask around, see how you can get involved in anything they do, etc. Those places are often good community hubs that are happy to help.
Years ago I learned to always fill my free time with what I love best , skiing , sailing , fishing , biking and wondering around in the out doors , having friends along is great but not required as you get older it harder and harder to find enough friends with time to go , don’t put off going get out there , covid was a bummer but i skied my butt off by myself !
My best friend is my dog hank he goes with me everywhere !
The 100 plus day ski season stopped counting years ago quality over quantity !
I have meet a ton of nice people skiing by myself both resort and back country that I might have not otherwise .
So when I do adventure with friends I know where to take them for a great adventure .
Cheers
I like to do multi-day bikepacking trips, but in my 70s have few friends who are interested or capable. So I mostly do that by myself and don’t mind too much. I find I often overextend myself as riding is enjoyable, but sitting in camp alone is boring. I therefore often ride 16+ hrs to cut down on the down time.
Backcountry skiing is not really safe without a companion or two, so I haven’t done it. I will sidecountry from the resort alone though.
I found myself in a similar situation when I became a Dad. I still wanted to go outdoors and do activities that were not the best to take a small child along on so I had to schedule it around family time. This was pretty inconvenient for all my friends that wanted to go on the weekend when they were off work. I ended up doing a lot of solo hiking, backpacking, and skiing. I did find multi day solo backpacking trips to be a little boring but I sort of got spoiled skiing by myself. I didn’t have to wait on anyone. I started and ended my day when I wanted. Biggest of all I got to ski at my own pace and cram as many runs in a day as I wanted. Now that my daughter is a little older nothing beats skiing with her but I still enjoy going solo every so often.
To be clear back country by yourself must be done totally differently , trails are selected for safety first , mostly flat or very very low Angle more sight seeing . Have skied more trails that I would never have skied with friends due to the lack of challenge I switch between xc skis and a t gear . I also use this time to fine tune gear and skills . I am very lucky to ski in the big sky area many great places to explore esp Yellowstone park .
Last thing always great others on the trail with a smile and something nice to say .
Enjoy
When I was young and not married, I did most of my activities with friends. The older you get, the harder it gets to work around life schedules, family commitments, and obligations. So, you just have to get out there. I am friendly, so I talk to people on chair lifts, on the side of a trail I’m running or biking on. I still do enjoy the relatively rare times I actually get to do these activities with someone, but it is a completely different mindset. I adjust to their rhythm. If it’s skiing or trail running, that is always going to mean a much chiller day than my torture fest’s I put myself through and so enjoy. If it’s biking, my biking friends are evil masters of torture- which, fairly, is probably what they think of me in my specialties. You are going through alternating moods of joy, thrill and anger at your torture buddy. It gives you perspective. Later, when you are out by yourself, because, well not going is not an option- you are left with your thoughts- you relive those good and bad moments with friends, and smile because you are alive, outside and living life, doing what you brings you so much joy!
I love resort skiing by myself. Uninterrupted intake of music and my head to myself. I’ll occasionally sneak in a sidecountry lap, since my cell coverage is good at the Kan. Moving up in line to share a chair with other single riders is a plus. Being the only person on the mountain in the rain is fun, too.
Using the singles line is sweet as well.