Questions I Keep Asking Myself About Solo Camping. Something about the idea of solo camping excites me—and terrifies me at the same time.
I’ve never done it before. I don’t have all the gear. I’m not even sure if I know what I’m doing. But that’s also why I’m drawn to it. There’s something raw and real about the idea of being out there, alone, figuring things out as I go.
So here’s a list of questions I keep asking myself.
Some might sound silly. Some feel big.
All of them are honest.
And maybe—just maybe—you’ve asked yourself the same ones too.
Questions I Keep Asking Myself About Solo Camping.
1. What if I feel lonely out there?
I like being alone, truly. I enjoy quiet mornings, books, and time to myself. But being alone in a forest, away from everything familiar, is that the same kind of alone?
I wonder if I’ll enjoy the peace. Or feel swallowed by the silence.
2. Can I handle everything on my own?
Will I be able to pitch my tent properly?
Cook something warm?How can
Keep myself safe and dry when it rains?
There’s no one else to rely on. And maybe that’s the challenge—and the lesson.
3. What if I panic at night?
When the sun goes down and everything turns dark, will my mind start imagining things?
Every sound might feel louder. Every rustle in the bushes could become a bear… or a ghost (thanks, childhood horror movies).
Can I stay calm? Can I sleep?
4. Will I miss people? Or will I feel free?
I wonder: Will I reach for my phone and feel the urge to text someone, anyone? Or will I finally feel like I’m breathing, like I’ve escaped the noise of everyday life?
What does freedom feel like?
5. What if I fall in love with it, and never want to come back?
What if this solo trip unlocks something in me?
What if it becomes the thing I crave more than city lights and coffee shop chatter?
Am I ready for what I might discover?
6. Am I doing this to escape something?
Or am I trying to find something?
Maybe both. Maybe neither.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.
7. What if I fail?
What if I forget something important? What if I get rained on, burned out, or just… overwhelmed?
But also—what if that’s part of the journey? What if failing teaches me something that books and YouTube videos never could?
I don’t have the answers yet.
But that’s okay.
Because maybe these questions are not meant to be solved right away.
Maybe they’re meant to be carried with me—into the woods, into the silence, into the unknown.
And who knows…
Maybe I’ll find some answers somewhere between the rustling trees and a warm cup of tea under the stars.
“What questions are you asking yourself?”
