My First Solo Wild Camp Experience.

A Night Out On The Seven Sisters Cliffs.

Do That Thing That Scares You.

Over the years I have camped out in the wild a modest amount. However, one experience that I have continued to shy away from is the illusive solo wild camp. There is something so vulnerable and yet gripping about solo adventure. For some, it may seem easy, preferable perhaps. However, for myself, the solo adventure always carries with it a level of fear that has often deterred me.

As someone who has always lived in cities, the concept of being alone is both exciting and unnerving. Whilst you might explore on your own in cities, you are never truly alone. There are passers-by, strangers, recognised faces who nod at you as they pass.

Even when solo exploring the British countryside more often than not you are never really alone. Hikers will pass and smile and nod. I even find that full conversations will be had with passing strangers out in the wild, a kindness that sadly is such a rarity in London.

However, when you take the plunge to wild camp on your own, you then truly experience being alone.

I’ve often explored within myself why this aspect of adventure makes me so anxious. For some, it may be the loneliness. For others, it may be fear of getting caught (wild camping is not allowed in England and Wales). For others it’s the sense of danger.

It is important to note that I am personally very privileged and fortunate to feel generally safe in all areas of my home country (UK). Sadly this is not true for many people in both this country and others. I hope that everyone can experience these adventures and feel safe doing so. However, it would be ignorant of me to not be mindful of the fact that this is not the case for everyone.

Personally, I consider my own fear of solo wild camping to be an irrational fear based on rational possibilities.

Perhaps anxiety that something may go wrong and I’ll be without anyone to help. Perhaps it’s the worry that my thoughts will get the better of me. With no company to lessen the silence, the emptiness and darkness of the surroundings feel more pressing. An anxious worry could seemingly have more freedom to spiral out of control without the gravity of external noise and distraction weighing it down.

Regardless of the answers to this introspection, I’ve always found the safety net of a hiking and camping companion very comforting.

However, as any adventurer reading this post will know, the most valuable experiences in life come from walking the line of discomfort and taking opportunities to take a step into the more unnerving side.

I have tried to push myself with regards to solo travel in recent years. Earlier this year I went on a solo bikepacking trip around Norfolk. However, whilst I was entering into a state of uncomfortableness by adventuring alone, I found excuses to let myself out of wild camping – Opting for the safety of a local campsite.

I think that learning to master how to be alone and content with just one’s own company is incredibly valuable. When you are alone you can learn about yourself in a manner that is unique to that solitude. You no longer have to put on any form of display or front – whether conscious or subconscious. Unlike a two-way conversation which bounces from side to side, the trail of thought runs freely. Whilst both can lead to profound insight, I find that the latter can unearth concepts and realisations that may otherwise have been left unfound. Developing this skill set is something I am striving to be better at. As I delve deeper into this state, my perception is that the benefits and insights can be far greater than first imagined.

Of course solo wild camps are not the only way to achieve this thought experiment. However, personally, I feel like the combination of solitude, connection with the wild and the primal fear of being alone at night induces a richer experience.

Walking The Seven Sisters Cliffs.

Having spent time researching the best places to wild camp along the south downs, I wanted to find a section which would also be exciting to walk along.

Last year I walked a circular route on the Southdowns from Pyecombe to Barcombe Mills, having wild camped on Wolstonbury Hill the night previously. Read more about this microadventure.

An Adventure From London That Will Make You Feel Alive (2022).

As I started walking around the headland with the sun on my face I was filled with a euphoric sense of freedom. This adventure was unlike many of my other journeys. My primary objective was to solo wild camp. My secondary was to boost my mental health and regain some calmness by being in the outdoors. I wasn’t out on an ego mission to count down the miles and walk until my feet hurt. I had not extensively planned a route. I had no return train ticket. I had no hiking companion whose opinions I should consider. I roughly knew the direction of travel – along the coast and to the west. Other than that I could amble along as slow as I liked. I had nowhere to be.

The miles did not matter.
The route didn’t matter.
At that moment, nothing really mattered.

It was so freeing.

As I strolled along the luscious green paths with the clear blue sea to my left and Eastbourne City fading away into the distance I noted spots which looked like ideal places to sleep for the night.

Despite all my research, I realised that finding a place to sleep was far easier than expected. The concept that I had all my gear and supplies and could rest my head wherever I got to as the sun went down was honestly one of pure liberation.

The route took me along the cliff tops from Beachy Head towards Cuckmere Haven. You can check out my full route on Strava with the position of my wild camp saved here.

Owing to the position of the cliffs, it took me a while before I had sight of the famous white cliffs. As I reached a small summit not long after passing Beachy Head Sports Field, the cliff edge curved away from the path and revealed the dramatic white landscape. I was in a state of shock for a few moments as I had not been expecting such giant features to appear so suddenly.

The 200m pure white limestone shoots out of the ocean at near vertical angles and appears to act as barrier between the ocean and Southern England. The lure of the cliffs draws onlookers close to the eroding walls which crumble and retreat up to 70cm a year. I chanced a few risky photos as close as I dared to get to the edge and continued along my route.

As I walked along the cliff top I noticed the sky was filled with paragliders who were circling the air above me hunting for thermals to ascend them higher and elongate their time in the sky.

As the sun began to set the other walkers on the route began to thin out. Shortly after I passed Birling Gap I noticed that the flow of hikers was going only one way. And I was moving against the grain. The day trippers had met their quota and were heading home for a warm Sunday dinner and a cosy bed. For me, my true adventure had only just begun. My night on the Seven Sisters Cliffs had started.

The cliffs that stretch between Cuckmere Haven and Beachy Head are named The Seven Sisters owing to the shape of the silhouette the cliff top forms. The stretch of land that runs from the bottom of the cliffs and out into the ocean used to be above sea level and would form a landmass that stretched all the way to France (see photo below for reference).

The wavy cliff tops appear from sea to have 7 distinct peaks; Haven Brow, Short Brow, Rough Brow, Brass Point, Flagstaff Brow, Bailey’s Hill and Went Hill. The more astute walker will wonder more about the secret unknown peak, Flat Hill. This head has only formed recently due to erosion. However, if you’re wondering why they are called the Seven Sisters cliffs then you aren’t alone. Apparently, the etymology comes from a legend of each of the sisters having a house in each valley. The wider mythology supposedly relates to the Pleiades constellation which is described in greek mythology in terms of the Seven Sisters. As indicated in the sign below, it is thought that the cliffs were named so by sailors returning home.

A Night Out On the Cliffs.

As the sun faded away and my legs felt tired from the seven peaks and troughs, I found a sheltered spot which seemed more than ideal to stay the night. I preferred to be on top of the peak instead of at the bottom of a valley. Partly in case any rain caused a flood and partly to have an oversight of my environment. Rams Head was my headland of choice. I Sheltered my tent in the shrubs off the path to avoid unwanted wind and nighttime wanderers.

Shortly after the sun had set in the west, I turned around to a huge shock. The moon had begun to creep over the horizon. However, little to my knowledge at the time, tonight was the lucky night for a Full Hunters Moon. I have since been asked what my favourite part of this trip was. The answer came firmly and resolute – the moon rise.

I was transfixed as this enormous bright orange orb crossed the horizon and impregnated the sky with a pink glow. I stood and stared, unbelieving of the size of the moon that filled the sky with light. It feels unauthentic to claim that I will remember that moon forever. Nevertheless, the moment struck me deeply and its memory still feels profound.

As the moon rose its orange hue faded, but its brightness did not. Throughout the night my surroundings were lit up to visible levels and I soon turned off my headtorch when wandering around my makeshift campsite. This visibility was a significant factor in keeping my anxiety calm and content. However, after a long walk, I did treat myself to a couple of beers which also may have contributed!

I sat in the porch of my tent reading The Moth and The Mountain By Ed Caeasr (An amazing book which I am halfway through at the time of writing – stay tuned for a full review soon!).

The air was cool and the sea was lit up from the shine of the moon. In the distance the Brighton offshore wind farm flashed red, quietly warning sailors of their presence. As my eyelids turned heavy I retired to bed. The wind had died down and no longer rattled the sheets of my tent. I was alone on the cliffs with only the Seven Sisters for company. Proud of my personal achievement, I slept deeply and soundly with the lullaby of the waves and wind serenading me.

The Journey Home.

As I made my way inland towards Lewes where I would embark back to London, I listened to Bear Grylls on The Diary Of a CEO. In the Podcast (43:00), something was mentioned which really resonated with me deeply. Bear discussed the negative impact of the “real world” on mental health. Bear goes on to describe how the business of life seems to forever be pulling and pulling at your energy and resilience – eventually depleting that resource inside of us. The solution, as Bear indicates, is to utilise the “great mental health weapon” that is the wild and outdoors to replenish that mental health resource. I cannot agree with Bear more that being in the wild, in the sun, in the mountains and in cold rivers builds up mental health energy levels.

These words described exactly the feelings I had and the reason I was seeking out a healthy dose of adventure. It’s easy to feel this energy resource to be constantly depleted through overwhelming responsibilities, endless tasks and information overload. The antidote, for me, is often to slow down, seek out some nature and disconnect from the modern-day pandemonia. In doing so, you might just find you feel a bit more replenished.

Thank you for reading. I hope you found this valuable.

Other Reads.

• The Adventure Podcast: A Review
• Book Recomendations
• Adventure and Travel | Social Meet | London – 9th March
• Alone in the Chilterns
• Adventure Shout-Outs: an introduction.

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