It’s not every day a naked man with a Prince Albert piercing saunters up to you.
Yet that’s exactly what happened to a group of wild women when we stopped on a rocky beach to cool off during a training hike. As we stripped down to our undies, the nude man strutted into our circle like a proud peacock displaying his pierced penis.
If it was a hen’s night, it would have been hilarious.
If it was a solo hike, it would have been terrifying.
As it was a team hike, it was bewildering.
It wasn’t scary because we had safety in numbers – there were 10 of us and only one of him. But we were rendered speechless, until Wendy—clearly the bravest among us—said “fuck off”. Fortunately, he did.
I’ve been hiking the urban trails of Sydney Harbour national parks for over 25 years and apart from this rather disconcerting experience, I’ve never experienced sexual harassment or abuse. In fact, most of my interactions with men in the wild have been fabulous. I’ve been fed freshly caught, pan-fried garlic abalone on the remote Tasmanian coast, personally guided to a secret waterfall in the Blue Mountains, offered crispy bacon whilst sunbaking on hot rocks on the Cox’s River and been given a demonstration of topless snow-diving by hot young men on the summit of Mt Ossa.
Despite these fabulous experiences in the wild, like most women, I change my behaviour every day because of my gender.
I rarely hike alone in urban bushland. I never hike alone under the cover of darkness. Walking at night – or on deserted trails – elicits an unrelenting inner monologue many of you would be familiar with. ‘Who’s behind me?’ ‘Is that guy getting closer?’ ‘Are other people around?’ We avoid dark streets, change our path, cross the street, seek out well-lit areas, and even run when we notice a man nearby. We avoid forrests, nature reserves, national parks and even urban parks at dawn or after dark. We are constantly wary and on edge, the fear of danger always tugging at the edges of our consciousness.
Unfortunately, the data shows us we actually have something to fear. A recent study that found up to 70% of female trail runners experienced sexual harassment when alone in the bush. More than 50% report verbal abuse. And, of course, 97% of perpetrators are men.
This is one of the many reasons I love hiking with groups of women. Because if we’ve got out girl gang by our side, we can chill.
It’s magic to go hiking at night with a group of women. To put the kids to bed and head out into the bushland of Sydney Harbour National Park, walking by moonlight, running up and down bush stairs and trails, soaking in the high of crisp night air and endorphins. Sitting on a clifftop, under the twinkling stars, sipping a hot cup of cacao, surrounded by beautiful friends… it’s one of life’s most incredible pleasures.
When we’re with our wild women gang, we feel invincible. We feel strong, confident, powerful and alive. When women hike together, something profound happens.
There is safety in numbers—yes. But there is also solidarity. Belonging. Courage. Shared stories. Collective strength.
As a Wild Women On Top hiking coach, I’ve spent decades witnessing the empowerment and freedom that comes from women gathering together in nature.
When a woman trains for a hike with a tribe of women, she’s not just improving her strength and confidence. She’s building protective social bonds that buffer against loneliness and trauma.
She is also reclaiming space.
Every time a group of women step onto a trail together, we quietly challenge the narrative that the outdoors is unsafe or not for us. We model strength and power to our daughters. And we send a message to anyone we meet along those trails that we are not to be messed with, because there are an army of women who have our backs.
The theme of International Women’s Day in 2026 is Balance the Scales; which signifies a promise that every woman and girl – regardless of background or identity – should be safe, heard, and free to shape their own lives. For me, that means a world where every woman and girl can hike, run, climb, cycle, ski, swim and explore this glorious planet, without fear holding them back.
The solution isn’t singular. It’s collective.
We reclaim the bush by hiking together.
When women walk together, the outdoors is safer. Women are healthier. Families are stronger. Communities flourish. Society becomes better for everyone.
So gather your tribe. Step outside. Walk together. Talk deeply. Laugh loudly. Train for something bold. Because when women connect, we don’t just survive.
We thrive.
