How Hiking 310 Miles Helped Build a Novel—and Taught Me a Few Things About Writing Along the Way, a guest post by Erin Soderberg Downing

The word alone has always frightened me. Alone in the woods? Downright terrifying.

But a few years ago, I set off on an adventure that would eventually leave me both alone and alone in the woods…for days on end. What began as a 100-mile hike along Lake Superior’s North Shore with my then-thirteen-year-old son turned into something so much more. It morphed into a quest to challenge myself. To test my independence, test my strength, test my will to carry on—and showed me how much hiking and writing have in common.

So how did this whole adventure begin? When my son’s planned backpacking camp was cancelled due to Covid, I didn’t want him to miss out on something he’d been looking forward to all year. Since I have a flexible job and am relatively outdoorsy, I thought: what the heck? Maybe I could take him hiking myself? He’s a fun kid and usually up for just about anything, so I figured a trail adventure would be great quality time with him and good reading time, to boot.

The kid—Henry—was game. But as soon as we started planning our route, my writer brain started cranking. There’s nothing like a good what if moment when you’re planning a story. And in this case, mine was: what if I could turn this adventure with my kid into research for a story? What if we were able to survive more than a few nights? What if we made our goal, say, a neat 100 miles? Wouldn’t that make for a fun book?

Hearing this revised plan, Henry was now noticeably less game. But it was too late—writer-Mom had launched into planning mode, and there’s no stopping me when I’m diving deep into an idea. And so, we—me—began collecting borrowed gear from friends and family, bought a bunch of the stuff that we couldn’t borrow, and pretended to train for the trip (we day-hiked a few sections of the trail, walked a little further each day and avoided fewer hills in our daily lives, slipped on our weighed-down packs at the store and laughed about how heavy they seemed). Soon, we were putting together meal bags for each day, sprayed everything with Permethrin to ward off bugs, and then got our packs loaded into a car to head north.

That night, all our gear was stolen out of our car’s trunk while we slept. Roadblock #1. Just like a really bad case of writer’s block, we were stuck and stalled.

But after hitting this obstacle, instead of getting knocked down, I got mad (oh, and I also cried a whole lot, too). And I was surprised to find that instead of quitting, now I was more determined than ever to make this trip a reality. We were offered even more borrowed gear from strangers in the Superior Hiking Trail community, given gift cards by friends and neighbors to help us buy the more personal supplies, and REI set us up with a sympathetic employee who whipped us around the store the very next day to help us rebuild our entire gear-load at a discount. I sobbed through the whole shopping spree.

But now, after conquering our first major roadblock, we were truly ready to roll.

My in-laws dropped us off at our starting point (Castle Danger trailhead), and Henry and I set out—straight uphill to what was promised to be a “rewarding view.” We stopped to admire said view, an hour or so into our morning hike. “How far do you think we’ve gone?” the kid asked me as he took a swig of his almost-empty first bottle of water and I swabbed at the sweat gushing down my face. He was beet red. “About two miles, maybe?”

I checked my mapping app, staring down at my phone in sheer horror.

“How far?” Henry asked again. “I do not like your cringe face right now.”

I shoved the phone back in my pocket and muttered, “Point six.”

“Point six what?” he asked.

We’d gone half a mile. Roadblock #2 was all mental, but no less significant. (Obviously, this little anecdote ultimately made it into the novel I was writing.)

The next few days didn’t get much easier. We faced serious drought, smoke from wildfires floating down from Canada, the expected bugs, extreme stink, hurt knees/ankles/feet/stomach, too many Dad jokes, never-ending Hobbit conversations, and two weeks of Disney songs stuck in my head that just had to come spilling out of my mouth to fill the silence. Roadblocks #3-10.

The hike was harder than either of us could have imagined, but somehow, we did it. Together, by leaning on each other for support, we kept walking, we kept getting stronger, we kept getting stinkier, but we also kept each other from quitting. And even though it wasn’t easy, we loved it—kind of. In retrospect, mostly, and only at certain points each day (the flattest points).

But absence makes the heart grow fonder and, much like childbirth, as soon as we were home, I forgot about a lot of the most painful parts. Which is why, just a few weeks after we got off trail—100 miles north of the spot where we first started—I decided I would make it my new mission to finish the rest of the 310-mile Superior Hiking Trail in bits and sections. And on top of that, I vowed that I would try to conquer one of my all-time fears and see if I could survive a few nights alone. I’d been working on character development for my novel, and I’d discovered that one of my main character’s fears is being alone. So, to know how she’d really feel if she were stranded on trail alone, I knew I was going to have to face that challenge firsthand myself.

Early the next summer, I spent my first night ever sleeping alone in the woods. For many people, that might not be a big deal. I’ve always envied those people, but I’m definitely not one of them. I’ve lurked and watched other peoples’ adventures alone in the woods, wondering what I might be capable of if I tried to do something like that myself. I’ve always been pretty sure I could do a solo overnight, but before I ever found out for sure, I let the fear and eh, maybe another time voice take over. Why even try? What’s the point? I’m an extrovert, so why would I choose to spend a night solo?

But more than anything, the thought of being alone in the woods, overnight, has always been toward the top of my list of Top Ten fears. Before we set off on our mother-son adventure, I cooked up plenty of other hiking-based fears. I’m a worrier by nature. For those who think like me, I want to list some of my trail fears here so we can all push them aside together: ticks, bears, lack of drinking water, mud, heat, cold, ticks, other bugs, snakes, blisters, latrines that are scary and over-full, thunderstorms, never-ending rain, tripping and twisting leg/knee/ankle, stabbing myself with the tip of my hiking pole, ticks, and getting eaten by wolves.

Except for that last one, I’ve now faced all of these—and survived. And more importantly, none were really all that big a deal in the grand scheme of a day’s hike. (I will confess that my worst fall happened at sundown one night, alone, on a slippery, muddy latrine trail…how’s that for an embarrassing almost-injury? Yeah, that story ultimately got written into the novel, too – because of course it did!) What I’ve discovered is, it’s so easy to worry during the planning. Maybe it’s even a good thing to worry a bit, so you’re sufficiently prepared and motivated. But here’s the thing: when I actually got out there alone, I was so focused on the trail, my daily tasks, the views, and each step that the fears kind of…melted away. Alone wasn’t so scary anymore.

What started as a 100-mile quest for quality time with my son and research for a novel turned into so much more. Looking back, I think I never actually believed we’d finish that first 100 miles – I thought Henry and I would make it about twenty. But once I’d hiked and survived the first 100 and tested out a first night on trail alone, I started to realize I was stronger and braver than I would have ever believed.

When I had just about fifty miles of the 310-mile Superior Hiking Trail left to conquer, I decided it was time to go on a multiple-night adventure alone…to find out. To discover just how much I’d grown during the adventure. And what I learned is: I hate camping alone, but now I know I can survive it.

Over the past two and a half summers, I finished all 310 miles of the Superior Hiking Trail, from Wisconsin to Canada. The craziest part is, I finished the last fifty-five miles of trail totally alone—four nights, five days, zero people). Along the way, I gained confidence, resilience, patience…oh, and I also finished that novel set on the trail. What started as research and a fun experiment shifted into a personal journey to see what I’m capable of.

And what’s even more fun is that, along the way, I learned some important things about hiking that have impacted my writing life, too. As I set out on a monthlong book tour this week to promote my novel set on the trail, I’m excited to share some of these truths with young writers and readers. Sometimes, when you get stuck in your writing, you can consider these tips:

Maybe…you took a wrong turn and need to back up and try out a different path. Writing is a lot like a choose-your-own adventure story—there are many choices you get to make when you’re telling a story (none of which are right or wrong, necessarily), but some might lead you to a dead end. Don’t give up—just back up try a different route.

Maybe…you need to take a break. Try writing something else for a bit or try reading someone else’s story to give your writer brain a rest.

Maybe…you need to ask for help. Brainstorming and talking things out with friends, family, a teacher, or a pet always helps!

Maybe…you need to push through and trust that it won’t be uphill forever. Writing isn’t easy for anyone. But eventually, as you grow stronger and build your writing muscles, things will level out, become clearer, and probably even get easier!

For more information about JUST KEEP WALKING, please visit: https://www.erinsoderberg.com/just-keep-walking.html

Meet the author

Erin Soderberg Downing grew up exploring forests, lakes, and trails and to this day, her best ideas for stories often come to her deep in the woods, where she can find plenty of creative space to explore and imagine. She has written more than seventy-five books, including Just Keep Walking, Controlled Burn, and The Great Peach Experiment series—all of which have been honored as Junior Library Guild Gold Standard Selections. Erin currently lives in Minneapolis, MN with her husband, three adventure-loving kids, and two very fluffy dogs. Learn more at: www.erinsoderberg.com

About Just Keep Walking

Wild meets Gilmore Girls on the Trail, Just Keep Walking is a story of resilience and the healing and restorative power of wilderness and nature from acclaimed middle-grade and chapter-book author Erin Soderberg Downing.

Two years after her parents’ surprising and painful split, twelve-year-old Jo and her mom find themselves on the 100-mile hike on the Superior Hiking Trail along Lake Superior’s north shore—a journey that Jo had always looked forward to hiking with her dad. It’s not a situation that either of them ever predicted they’d find themselves in, yet here they are in the wilderness with their entire lives stuffed into a pair of thirty-pound packs.

Along the trail, they’ll suffer through endless aches and pains, scorching heat, and crippling self-doubt. They’ll encounter bears, moose, and other wildlife and meet and collect an assortment of unlikely friends. Day after day, Jo will battle the incessant thoughts that come in and out of her head. But as one obstacle after the next continue to test her strength and ultimate survival, Jo will have to confront her greatest fears head on and learn how to be alone.

What begins as a journey to prove to her father that she and her mom can make it on their own turns into a quest to rediscover their strength, build resilience, and prove that they can survive—both for themselves and for each other.

ISBN-13: 9781338851304
Publisher: Scholastic, Inc.
Publication date: 03/05/2024
Age Range: 8 – 12 Years

Filed under: Guest Post