Recreating in the mountains requires honing a whole new skill set, from perfecting your kit to learning how to use a compass. If you’re a woman, it also means learning how to navigate mansplaining encounters.
This International Women’s Day, I joined a group mountain running adventure in the Scottish Highlands with Girls On Hills, a guided trail running company designed specifically for women. Their mission is to empower women to become self-reliant in the mountain environment through running, hiking and skills courses.
Our day involved a four-hour adventure over two Munros where we got familiar with scree on some off-trail terrain. In our group of 12, at least three were qualified mountain leaders. One has completed the punishing Marathon des Sables, a 250k dash across the Moroccan desert (she’s also the founder of Black Trail Runners). Our guide Keri Wallace recently set the women’s solo unsupported FKT on the 96-mile West Highland Way. Several women there have bagged all 282 Munros.
These are just the bios I managed to grab, through snatched breaths, as I tried to keep up with this group of wonder women, but you get my point – there was undeniable mountain experience and skills on display here.
Nevertheless, when we stopped near the summit to pull on our running jackets against the cold wind that had picked up, a man approached us to ask what we were doing there.
Same thing as you, I thought.
“It’s very unusual to see a group of women like this in the mountains,” he said, before he and his helpful friends warned us that the final push to summit might be “a bit steep.”
Part gobsmacked, part outraged, we cheerfully bade them a good day and carried on. The experience didn’t ruin our adventure; it was a first-class day out. But it certainly colored it and took up much of our ensuing conversation. Why is there so much mansplaining in the mountains? How can more men be friendly towards women in the hills without talking down to them? And how do we respond to it as women?
Why is there so much mansplaining in the mountains?
If you’re a woman hiking or running in the mountains, you’re clearly made of tough stuff. So why do men offer us advice we didn’t ask for?
“Women can’t seem to catch a break, even in the places that should feel like an escape,” says psychotherapist and mental health expert Claire Law.
“These are places where women go to push themselves, to clear their minds, to enjoy the outdoors. And yet, even here, there’s always someone who feels the need to step in, offer unsolicited advice, or explain something obvious.”
Take Serena Broadway, an ultra runner who has competed in multiple long distance races including the Nice Côte d’Azur by UTMB and several Montane Spine races. She was running with a female friend on her usual hill trails near Edinburgh – trails she knows like the back of her hand.
“We met a man at a path intersection, and he asked which way we were going. When I explained, he said, ‘Oh, good. I was going to tell you that this way was very steep and you might want to avoid it.’”
As Law explains, this behavior is part of a larger pattern that psychologists have studied for years.
“Men often overestimate their own competence, even when they know less than the person they’re talking to. Women, on the other hand, are socialized to be more cautious about asserting authority, even when they have more expertise.”
According to Dr. Sham Singh, a UCLA-trained psychiatrist, what I’m calling “mansplaining” is more officially termed the Dunning-Kruger effect and is largely underpinned by convention and cognitive biases.
“Most men are taken to be socialized to take top authoritative roles in domains deemed needing strength, skill or endurance. Such beliefs lead to assumptions, albeit unconsciously, that they bear superiority in knowledge on activities such as hiking, mountaineering, or trail running, even when liaising with highly trained or elite female athletes.”
Singh says the Dunning-Kruger effect often compounds in situations where there might be physical or socio-environmental stress, for example, the implicit pressure on men to prove their competence. This is something Bee Leask experienced when she stopped in a bothy whilst tackling the rugged Fisherfield Munros in remote northwest Scotland.
Leask is a qualified mountain leader who had already climbed 277 Munros. When a man she chatted with said he had hiked the five mountains in 12 hours, she replied that she hoped to do the same. His response?
“You’ll never do it in that time, it’s a big day.”
Even after explaining her experience, he continued to push back, telling Leask she didn’t understand the terrain. In the end, the pair agreed to disagree, and Leask completed the round in under 12 hours – with plenty of breaks.
And if it seems as though mansplaining in the mountains is getting worse? It could be down to the fact that some women, like Courtney Dauwalter, are now outperforming men in fields like ultra running, which Law explains disrupts a familiar dynamic.
“Some men – consciously or not – react by trying to reassert control, positioning themselves as the knowledgeable ones, even when it’s completely unnecessary.”
Respect our right to be there
If we want to change the conversation between (some) men and women in the mountains, it seems we’ve got our work cut out for us.
“Overcoming mansplaining in the outdoors requires cultural change at a large scale, awareness about gender biases, and creation of spaces that give credence to skill and experience rather than gender,” says Singh.
But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.
Ultra runner Kirsty Reade from Vertebrate Publishing (she commissioned Keri Wallace’s book Running Challenges) gave the audience some ideas during her recent talk at the Fort William Mountain Festival. Her running accomplishments include the punishing Tors des Geants and Arc of Atrition races, but when she was doing the technical Coldale Horseshoe route in the Lake District, that didn’t stop a passing (solo) male hiker from asking her, “are you alright to be doing this on your own?’”
Another time, when she reached the finish line of a 100-mile race, a presenter with a microphone was interviewing the finishers. To the men, he congratulated them for “smashing it.”
To the women: “Aw, well done, are you feeling really proud of yourself?”
“Think a little bit about the language that you use and ask yourself, would you say the same thing to a man?” recommends Reade.
Before you open your mouth, if what’s going to come out isn’t something you’d say to a man, then there’s probably something wrong with what you’re saying. And as every woman I spoke to stressed – start every interaction by assuming that any woman you meet knows what she’s doing unless she says otherwise, and respect her right to be there.
To take the high road, or the low road?
And as for how women should respond to these unwanted interactions? Well, it’s really up to you.
“Sometimes, the easiest route is a quick, firm response – something like “I’m good, thanks” or a simple nod before moving on. No explanation, no engagement, just a clear signal that the advice isn’t needed,” says Law.
“For those who enjoy flipping the dynamic, a factual correction can be satisfying,” she continues.
“If someone starts explaining how to handle steep inclines, casually mentioning a past ultra-marathon or a personal best can make them rethink their assumptions.”
Or you can go with a more direct approach, something Girls on Hills co-founder Nancy Kennedy employed when a man on the trail asked if she knew what she was doing and why she was dressed in running clothes.
She could have explained that she’s been volunteering with Lochaber Mountain Rescue since 1989 and has competed in mountain races from Scotland to the Alps. Instead she picked up the pace to hit the summit so she could fly past him on the descent and give a cheery “are you getting on okay?” as she passed him, presumably choking on her dust.
Building a safe space for women in the mountains
If anything, these stories highlight exactly why women’s groups like Girls on Hills (and groups like Black Trail Runners and Muslim hikers) need to exist. The mountains are for all of us, but if a sector of the hiking population is preconditioned to assume that the rest of us don’t have the tools to be competent in the hills, it excludes that group. If women and people of color feel that they don’t belong in the hills, they might not venture out at all, and that would be a damn shame.
One way to start making inroads is by seeking out opportunities to support women’s groups. Girls On Hills has an access fund that helps support women who face additional barriers to accessing running and hiking in the mountains. There may be similar groups closer to your home and heart that similarly have opportunities to donate or volunteer.
Above all else, Law says, if you’re a woman on the trail, don’t let these interactions ruin your day.
“The most important thing is protecting your own space, both physically and mentally. Whether that means calling it out, shutting it down, or ignoring it entirely, the goal is to keep the focus on what actually matters – the run, the hike, the climb, the freedom of the outdoors. Because that’s the whole point of being out there in the first place.”
And if you see us on the trail? A simple “hello” will do.
