‘The Outdoors Belong to Us, Too’
On an adventure-packed trip to Colorado, a Black city girl discovers how much she enjoys being in nature
I’m a city girl. I grew up in Detroit and have lived in Chicago for the last 10-plus years. But somehow I didn’t realize how much I’d internalized existing solely in urban spaces until recently, when someone mentioned that Reese Witherspoon movie Wild, about a woman hiking 1,100 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail on her own. I started thinking about all the white women I’d seen in movies who head to the great outdoors to find themselves. Wild, Nomadland, Tracks, Land — all stories of women whose lives are falling apart and who escape into nature to rediscover themselves. Rarely had I seen Black women, especially queer Black women, given the same kind of narrative space in film — using nature and the outdoors as a therapeutic tool to reclaim some part of themselves.
Which is how I ended up booking a trip to Vail, Colorado, this summer for Grand Hyatt Vail’s new Wild West Package. My plan was to trade the noise and stress of Chicago for the quiet and calm of the Rocky Mountains, and maybe learn a little something about myself while I was there.
Nature and I don’t know each other well. I’ve never been camping, never gone hiking, never spent the night in a sleeping bag under the stars. Movies like The Harder They Fall, Nope, and They Die By Dawn all showed me complex stories of Black Western culture, but it hadn’t occurred to me until now that I might want to try it for myself. I grew up on shows like All That, That’s So Raven, and the lesser-known City Guys — shows where Black kids were deeply rooted in city life. If they ever did go “out West,” it was always a fish-out-of-water episode, poking fun at how ridiculous it was for city kids to even think about saddling up.
As soon as I arrived in Vail, though, I felt comfortable, at peace even — partly because Eagle County Regional Airport may be one of the quietest and aesthetically pleasing airports I’ve ever been to. At the hotel, I was amazed by the views of the mountains and Gore Creek from my cozy room — and the fact that there was a coin-operated Champagne vending machine, which is exactly the kind of detail a city girl like me loves.
Before I jumped into any outdoor activities that first day, I put on my headphones, cued up Beyonce’s Cowboy Carter, and explored Vail Village, with its Bavarian architecture, cobblestone streets, and locally owned shops. I also did what many Black folks instinctively do in unfamiliar places: scan the space for people who looked like me. And I didn’t see many. But I didn’t let this get me down. I always lean into the fact that wherever I am, I belong. I can be aware of the lack of folks who look like me without allowing it to overtake my experience. Also I knew the state has roots in Black cowboy culture, and just a few years ago the Brotherhood of Black Skiers brought over 2,000 Black skiers to Vail to celebrate 50 years of Black ski culture. As I wandered the pedestrian-only streets, Beyonce’s “Ya Ya” filled my headphones and the lyrics struck a chord: “My family live and died in America / Good Ole USA / Whole lotta red in that white and blue / History can’t be erased.” The outdoors belongs to us, too, I reminded myself, and it always has.
The next morning I was ready to try fly fishing, which was a big deal for me considering I’d never fished before. I took a walk along the peaceful trail behind the Grand Hyatt to quiet my brain before meeting up with Dave, his crew from Eagle River Outfitters, and some other guests.
Dave outfitted us with rods and waders, and gave us a fly fishing tutorial on the grass; we learned how to hold and throw our lines and how to spot the best areas to catch a fish. Then we split off with an instructor to walk over to the river to give it all a test run. I didn’t catch anything, but I had an incredible time trying. What really felt good was that there was zero judgment from the instructors. No one was upset that I had so many questions or that I kept getting my line tangled in bushes and trees. I listened to the guys from Eagle Rock Outfitters talk about how they link up together, hop on a boat, and just spend hours fishing with music and vibes. As the experience wrapped, I imagined doing the same with a crew of my own.
On my third day in Vail, I headed out to 4 Eagle Ranch for a morning of horseback riding. I was secretly terrified. I’d never been on a horse and didn’t know what to expect. All I knew was that they were huge and basically empaths, so I had to calm down before I hopped on. The ranch felt like a location ripped out of a movie — everywhere you turned, there were lambs, sheep, Bob Ross-esque mountains to take in.
The horses were gorgeous. I had my eye on a fiery redhaired one that had a little bit of an attitude — I figured we were kindred spirits and would be paired together — but instead I was matched with a big, beautiful brown horse with a flowing mane. He was bigger than the others, but he had a chill vibe, and after a few deep breaths I managed to get in the saddle with help from an actual cowboy.
For the first few minutes, I was afraid that my horse would suddenly take off running. Immediately the scene from the Olsen twins movie It Takes Two where Kirstie Alley’s horse gets scared and goes running off with her holding on for dear lifeflashed through my mind, but thankfully that didn’t happen. I reminded myself that I was here to fully embrace this experience and that I needed to leave the fear behind. And I did.
I spent two hours trekking through the mountains atop my horse, past towering trees and delicate wildflowers, and it was amazing. We stayed on a trail in a row. Turns out, a horse will pretty much follow the one in front of it. I learned to lightly pull the reins in the direction I wanted my horse to go and to just stay calm and enjoy the ride.
I didn’t feel powerful or strong. In fact, I felt so small in those mountains, but in the best way possible. My thoughts came and went without needing to be solved or silenced. Perhaps my horse was so chill because I was.
On my last morning in Vail, I woke up early to have coffee and journal outside by Gore Creek. There was no one around, apart from the occasional runner who’d pass by without a word. I took my shoes off and put my feet in the cool water. The whole experience began to settle in for me: being kinda unplugged, mostly unbothered, and aware of the calm I was feeling in my mind and body. I was focused on how I felt in the space. I wasn’t really worried about how I looked in it or whether or not I belonged. I wasn’t interested in allowing those thoughts to come in and take me out of the peace I was feeling. These few days in nature had given me a reset, and I wanted to take this feeling back with me to Chicago. I never thought nature was for me or that I’d get anything from being in it. I’m happy that I was wrong.
