When we heard about Rachel Hewitt’s new book, we couldn’t resist! Read on to find out what we thought of In Her Nature: How Women Break Boundaries in the Great Outdoors.

Ok, let me preface this by saying that this is my absolute favourite genre of writing. I love the (often cliched) ‘people having emotional journeys while they simultaneously complete very physical journeys’. I mean travel writing, and writing about walking, in general is great: Monisha Rajesh’s Around the World in 80 Trains (and Around India in 80 Trains for that matter), A Walk From the Wild Edge by Jake Tyler and my absolute favourite, On Roads That Echo by Charlie Walker. But I must say I was still completely bowled over by Rachel Hewitt’s In Her Nature. Managing to combine an infectious and enthusiastic declaration for the joys of running, a heartfelt and moving reflection of her journey through grief AND a fact-filled, riveting (and at times infuriating) exploration of women’s outdoor activity throughout history is no mean feat.

In Her Nature tracks the story of two women in particular; Lizzie Le Blond, who, according to Hewitt, was arguably the most famous female climber in the world in the late 1890s, and the author herself. Chapters switch seamlessly between speaking about Lizzie, her upbringing, her relationships, her travels and most importantly her outdoor activities, with speaking about the author’s own relationship with the outdoors. When Hewitt began researching the book, she planned to write a more straightforward look at the history of women in the outdoors and how that has changed over the decades. But, while researching, she lost several family members in very quick succession. This completely changed the direction of the book, and led to her using running, and writing, to process her grief. The result could have been a book that bounces around with no fixed plot, or just something a little heavy-handed or clumsy. On the contrary, Hewitt’s handling of these various elements is anything but. She leads the reader through histories, both her own and others, with ease, and her signposts throughout the book, showing where she plans to take her research next and what questions are on her mind at that particular point, makes you feel like you're on the journey with her.

The exploration of women’s visibility in sport is fascinating. One might assume that women in mid-Victorian times did little sport and instead spent their time in the home and, gradually, came to participate more in outdoor life as time went on. However, this is exactly what Hewitt disputes. The progress has not been linear. Women’s participation (and indeed their visibility) has moved both forward and backward throughout the last 150 years or so. She examines why women’s visibility in sport declined around the early twentieth century and what the situation looks like today. Hewitt cites the institutionalisation of sport from the 1850s onwards as one of the many reasons for the loss of visibility of women in sport. Sport became formalised by structures such as competitions, clubs, societies, universities etc and, as women were often not allowed in these establishments, they began to be written out of the literature of the sport.

This focus on women being denied access to spaces is particularly interesting (and saddening). It is something that is still prevalent today as, even if women are ‘technically’ allowed in certain spaces, they may feel uncomfortable and unwelcome if they do. Or their achievements may be overshadowed by their gender or by male onlookers. Look at the recent FIFA Women’s World Cup and the Spanish team’s win being reduced to a footnote in articles about the male Spanish FA President. 

When reading the kind of books I mentioned previously, I lose myself in fantasies of going out on these big adventures on my own. I imagine myself wild camping in Scotland, riding horseback across Mongolia, cycling through Turkey. Just me and nature - feeling tiny in a vast landscape. But, while these things aren’t impossible for women, they’re certainly harder. Not because we lack the strength, fitness, desire or ability to weather hardships. But because we face threats of violence alongside this. This is something that is so perfectly explored in In Her Nature. Every other sentence had me nodding my head enthusiastically in agreement, or shaking my head in commiseration, at the experiences of many women around the world who have been made to feel unsafe or unwelcome outdoors.  

‘Mountains and women have historically been something for men to try to conquer and such female names [referring to the Three Sisters mountain ranges in various countries] for geographical landmarks signify both the acquisitive nature of men’s desires and their female targets’ tendency to strongly resist’.

There are plenty of fun facts strewn throughout the book which add to the overall reading experience. For example, over-arm bowling in cricket was said to have been introduced to avoid female bowler's arms from becoming stuck in their skirts! These little asides never detract from the main narrative and instead help to ground the reader in the time and place of the writing and gain additional context without having to read around the subject. As a slight criticism, I would have liked the book to be more global, but Hewitt does acknowledge her limitations in this area early on and does cite numerous case studies from around the world, such as women in India having less access to public spaces and women's rugby being banned in Samoa until the 1960s. And while the focus is on trail running and mountaineering (the sports of choice for the author and Lizzie Le Blond respectively) the book is very well-rounded and covers everything from tennis to cycling and rambling.

The book is peppered with great photographs (taken by Lizzie Le Blond and others) that show women participating in various sports in the mountains, from skeleton sledges to figure skating, in the 1880s and 90s. Being able to actually see women from this historical period taking up space in the outdoors is so powerful. There are also numerous examples throughout the book of women creating their own spaces when they are made to feel unwelcome in male-dominated spaces, such as the creation of the Ladies Alpine Club. Of course, this leads to women being able to take up space in other areas of life as well. Hewitt summarises so well the exact sentiment that we noted in our article highlighting incredible women in sport:

‘Sport is never ‘just sport’.The ability to participate and be powerful in sport is directly linked to the ability to participate and be powerful in public life.’

In Her Nature is a fantastic exploration of women in sport, and it’s also a fantastic record. Similar to what artist Misha Japanwala says about the importance of showcasing women’s bodies exactly as they are in her own art practice, Hewitt remarks near the end of the book that we need to celebrate and preserve women’s stories, in the same way that men’s stories have been preserved since the beginning. 

‘We need celebratory stories about bodies as well as about minds, and it is especially important to preserve stories of women’s bodies. Female bodies are not accommodated well in our world, and that failure lasts after death. What women’s bodies have achieved, and the impact they have made on the world, has not been well preserved.’

We’re very pleased that Hewitt has gone some way to help with this preservation and we encourage you all to pick up a copy.

Check out In Her Nature by Rachel Hewitt, as well as many other Qissa recommendations at Bookshop.org.