Lessons About Femininity From The John Muir Trail

This fall, I did something that changed me from the inside out.

I hiked 203 miles along the John Muir Trail, through the heart of the Sierra Nevada mountains.

Nineteen days of steady motion—up and down passes that gained or lost two to four thousand feet of elevation in a single day.

An average of eleven miles on foot each day, a 35-pound pack on my back, carrying everything I needed and nothing I didn’t.

It rained. It snowed. And it was warm and sunny more days than not.

The trail wound through ancient forests, over rivers and streams that sang with glacier melt, and across miles of granite so stunning it almost felt sacred. There were moments of exhaustion, awe, frustration, and wonder—all layered together like the ridgelines I crossed.

I hiked with a young woman of eighteen, strong and quick, whose pace was far faster than mine. So, for much of each day, I walked alone. Ten hours of solitude, every single day.

That space—both literal and emotional—became a mirror for my mind. It was one of the hardest parts of the trip, and one of the most growth inspiring.

Out there, stripped of distraction and comfort, I learned a few truths about what it means to be feminine in the midst of something grueling and raw. These are lessons I want to carry forward—and to share.

1. The strength of a femininity is both physical and emotional.

A woman carries herself—and the weight of her life—differently than a man. Her endurance isn’t only about muscle or stamina; it’s about grace, compassion, and the ability to move through difficulty with a quiet, layered strength.

I watched myself do hard things every day—steep climbs, freezing creek crossings, muscle aches that didn’t quit—and I realized that strength isn’t loud. It’s consistent. It’s choosing to keep moving, even when no one is watching.

2. A feminine mind never stops thinking, feeling, processing.

While some of the men I met on the trail could simply walk—no thoughts, no worries, just motion—my feminine mind was a river that never stopped flowing.

Sometimes that was a gift. Sometimes, it was exhausting.

There were moments when my thoughts turned negative or fearful, and I had to be intentional about shifting them. I began to list things I was grateful for, sometimes whispering them aloud as I walked. Then I’d pray for each one—thanking God for what it meant, and asking for continued blessings.

It became a rhythm of gratitude and prayer that steadied my mind when my body was tired.

And when I was just too tired to think of things to be grateful for, I simply counted my steps - 1 to 100, start over at 1 again for endless rounds of 100. Yes, that turned out to be a highly effective tool for getting over challenging passes that seemed endless. And it kept me from spiraling into thought of negative things when every cell in my body was screaming with pain from what seemed like an endless climb.

3. Women are remarkably good to each other.

One evening, I watched my hiking partner perfectly live out this truth. She had finished her period earlier in the hike when she met a group of three backpackers—two men and a woman. The woman’s period had started unexpectedly, and she had nothing with her to manage it. My partner quietly returned to camp, gathered what she had in menstrual supplies and left it for a stranger by a signpost.

About thirty minutes later, we heard whoops and laughter echo across the granite—pure gratitude and joy from both the other woman and the men accompanying her.

That moment, so simple and private, became a celebration of shared womanhood. There’s nothing more beautifully feminine than women helping each other in practical, tender, unspoken ways.

4. The quiet strength of women on the trail.

Women are fewer on the John Muir Trail than men, but when you do encounter them, you feel an unspoken feminine bond. Out there, gender roles flatten—everyone carries their own weight, everyone is responsible for their survival. There’s no space for pretense or performance.

But among women, there’s something else: a silent acknowledgment, a knowing glance, a shared smile that says, I see you. It’s a sisterhood that needs no words—rooted in mutual respect, in the quiet recognition of what it takes to be there, to do this.

We reached the end of our journey two days earlier than expected, when an early winter storm marched its way across the Sierra towards us, bring several feet of snow and ice. While it wasn’t the ending we expected, it was a perfect example of how the journey should end - us recognizing the strength of the wilderness and standing in our own strength as we made our way to safety.

By then, I was different. Not because the miles had made me stronger (though they had), but because they stripped away the noise and left behind something raw and real.

The John Muir Trail was the hardest, best thing I’ve ever done.

And it reminded me that femininity isn’t fragile—it’s formidable. It’s grace under weight. It’s compassion in motion. It’s the courage to walk alone through wild places, and still find beauty in every step.

The Strong Confident Femininity Experience Is Like The John Muir Trail:

In so many ways, what I experienced on the John Muir Trail mirrors what happens in the studio at Strong Confident Femininity. The women who come to me are each carrying something—sometimes joy, sometimes pain, sometimes a quiet need to reconnect with the part of themselves that’s been forgotten under the weight of daily life.

Just like on the trail, there’s vulnerability, courage, and transformation in front of the camera. There’s a moment when each woman realizes she is capable of so much more than she believed—and that her beauty, her sensuality, her power, are not things she must earn. They’re already hers.

The trail taught me that feminine strength is both wild and gentle. That’s the same energy I strive to reveal in every photograph: the strength and softness that coexist within every woman.

Because whether it’s miles of granite beneath your feet or the lens of a camera capturing your essence, the truth remains the same—you are capable, powerful, and profoundly beautiful just as you are.

The images accompanying this story are from Strong Confident Femininity Outdoor Adventure Sessions—photography experiences created for women who feel most alive in the wild places of the world. These sessions blend the raw beauty of Montana’s landscapes with the quiet confidence and sensual strength that define Strong Confident Femininity. Just as I found on the John Muir Trail, there’s something transformative about being surrounded by nature—about standing in your own power, unfiltered and free. These portraits are not only works of art, but reflections of that spirit: strong, capable, deeply feminine, and beautifully at home in the outdoors.