Life is Better Outside.

Traveling upstream in a kayak on a lonely river, Northern Quebec.

So you want to live outside... really? You have that romantic idea in your head, and you want to pursue it.

Beautiful. I am a romantic myself. So let's dive in.

It's a dream most of us have. An idealistic dream, let's be crude about it... because there's a big difference between dreaming and doing.

I once read a book about a group of kayakers crossing the Amazon River. A quote in the book stayed with me: He didn't want to do it; he wanted to have done it.

And it's the same for a lot of things in life. Sometimes we think we want to go somewhere, to do something... and when we're finally there, when we're finally doing it... we're like, "Wait, why the hell am I here right now? Soaking wet, cold... I'd rather be at home watching a movie..."

I have lived outside for months at a time, many times. So there might be a few things I can talk about that could come in handy. Be it for the mental preparation, the physical preparation... or the philosophical one. Some would even say spiritual, which... yes, there is definitely some truth to that.

Gulf of Saint-Lawrence, Northern Quebec.

Let's be honest here.

None of us can really live in the wilderness 100% nowadays.

That's not what we're talking about here.

When we imagine ourselves living in the wild... it's always in a warm and dry log cabin, with a food supply, some tools to acquire more food (fishing rod, firearm...), and a way to head back to civilization if trouble happens.

And that's not really living in the wilderness 100%, but let's stop being purists here.

Leaving the city is what it's about.

Going on a quest inside your own soul, having the time to contemplate, the silence to quiet the stress in your head and allow actual free thoughts to flow again, like a wild river, uninfluenced by the constraints of civilization... that's the dream.

And that's plenty.

Gulf of Saint-Lawrence, Northern Quebec. Extended kayak trip.

As for my own experience living outside... it was either during extended bicycle travels (that lasted for months), long kayak trips (that lasted weeks), or simply when, in my youth, I would go pick cherries and peaches with friendly hippies out west.

The longest I've spent living outside was about three months, during an extended bicycle trip.

And so... what happened? What changed in me?

Did anything change at all?

Honest truth: it's not always nice and tidy. Sometimes you're exhausted, just looking for that ONE item.

Short answer: Yes.

A lot changed.

But... and you'll hate me for this, but I'll say it anyway, because it's the truth.

The truth being: I allowed change in myself BEFORE leaving.

Let me say that again.

It's not about the destination. If you think that's cliché, I'm sorry, but you're truly missing out on something important here.

Before going on my first bike trip, which lasted about a month... I read a lot. Because, in my case, the change was radical: I was hopping into a world—the world of adventure travel—in which I had zero experience. And so, I knew I needed some pointers, some advice.

At some point, I read something on a forum that simply stayed with me, even to this day.

Something along the lines of: "If you can't go into your backyard and find something new and beautiful to admire, you're chasing clouds: that feeling won't happen elsewhere either."

What the author meant wasn't that you can't find beauty elsewhere. It was more like... beauty is everywhere.

And of course, something new is beautiful... because it's new. It's very easy to look at a flower you've never seen before and find it beautiful.

But if you're able to look at that flower you've seen 1,000 times... and still find some beauty in it you hadn't observed before... now you're setting yourself up for the better when it comes to appreciating what comes next.

Whatever that thing is.

That's one crucial part.

If you can't see beauty in ordinary things... dreaming about living outside might not be for you.

Because between your idea and reality, there will be a gap, and probably a big one.

And if your idea of beauty is too narrow, you simply won't be able to appreciate that reality.

That's one aspect that changed in me... because I allowed it.

She would come and eat my scraps every night. So there's only one thing I could do in response...

Cook her a proper meal every evening.

Another thing that changed in me... is laziness.

Not that I am a lazy person, but you know, like everyone, I might have needed a little nudge at times to get me going. A few more hours in the morning to sleep in.

But when you live to the rhythm of nature for months, with its demands and constraints... there is simply zero room for being lazy.

No one is coming to do anything for you out here. You are by yourself, and by choice. Things simply need to be done.

And so, life becomes like that quote: "You don't really know how strong you are until being strong is your only option."

You come back from doing something difficult like that... and everything is so much easier.

Doing the dishes is such a charm.

Cooking a meal... doing the prep on an ACTUAL counter. Being able to control the heat PRECISELY. Having as much water as you need.

Being able to take a hot shower if you simply feel like it.

I'm telling you.

We have it SO easy.

Yellow pond-lily rhizome. Harvested in a Northern Quebec river.

What about adaptation, though?

How long did it take my body to adapt to that kind of lifestyle?

The answer is probably different for everyone... but in my case, it was around seven days.

At day four, I would ask myself what the hell I was doing there.

You wake up in the morning at day four and think: "just why? I'm not sleeping well, the sun is out at freaking 5 a.m. almost, I'm still damp from yesterday, I stink..." You're still fighting it.

So, personally... going out on a camping trip for seven days is really not enough to feel what it's really like.

It STARTS at day seven for me.

After that, it becomes easier. Your mind and body start to understand: this is what we do now, so might as well adapt.

You start sleeping better. You appreciate what's around you instead of being at odds with it. You're also probably starting to lose some of that constant need for stimulation... and that's one thing worth noting.

I would NEVER bring a smartphone. Or an MP3 player.

I had a flip phone, sometimes a SPOT (a satellite-connected device that could help locate you if you were in trouble), but apart from that, I had nothing.

I had books... physical books. Not a lot... they weigh. Maybe three maximum.

A notebook and pen to journal or write.

I was not fighting this new lifestyle: I was ALL-IN.

If you go there and bring your old life with you... why the hell did you leave that life, then?

Do you shower with your clothes on too?

How do you expect to get clean if you don't go in naked?

You gotta go in free.

Your dream is about freedom after all, isn't it?

Gulf of Saint-Lawrence, Northern Quebec. Woke up at 3h30 am to start the day early.

Living outside is... not extraordinary.

For most of human existence, living in close contact with the natural world wasn't an escape from ordinary life. It was ordinary life.

After a few weeks, your outlook changes completely.

Clouds acquire a new texture. The sun becomes your friend... and that's actually the case. All you need is a couple of days of rain to realize that.

You start rediscovering senses you didn't know you had... like the "feel of weather."

It's weird.

I would be cycling for most of the day, then randomly at 4 p.m. I'd think: yeah, I'll stop now.

Not that it was cloudy or anything. But the moment I stopped and started setting up the tent, clouds would begin to form. And moments later... the deluge would happen.

That probably happened to me... at least ten times.

Your body adapts, your mind adapts... your spirit also does.

You question things.

Yourself, your past assumptions, your outlook on things...

If you do all that and don't change, what's the point?

Travelled for weeks, against heavy wind and threatening waves, just to find that perfect water...

What about... dangers, though?

This is another part of preparation, and one that's much less romantic to talk about.

Look, I'm not one to tell you everything is perfect and everyone is peaceful out there.

I shall stay vague, but I can say two things.

One: if I hadn't had a knife at one particular point, I believe something very bad would have happened to me.

Two: when I came back from my longest adventure travel, the one that lasted about three months... not too long after, I joined an MMA gym.

In all of my travels... the greatest potential source of danger has always been... humans. That's just my personal experience, but to me at least, it weighs in the balance.

Things happened that led me to think: I never want to be vulnerable like this anymore.

Just like I wanted to understand the science of being able to start a fire whenever I needed one, I also wanted to understand how to use my body to defend myself if I ever needed to.

Do I recommend taking some kind of self-defense class before going out on an adventure?

I do.

Just like I recommend taking some kind of survival course.

The goal is not to become an expert.

The goal is to know enough that you begin to understand what you don't know.

At least make some of the unknown known.

Because there are two ways to acquire humility out there: through wisdom or through suffering.

I recommend wisdom.

Animals live outside, and two of the most fundamental things they need to know are how to survive and how to defend themselves.

Those are basics.

And if you don't want to take martial arts classes, no problem. But I still believe you should think seriously about how you would protect yourself and what kind of appropriate deterrent you can legally and safely carry where you're traveling.

That's my humble opinion... but an opinion informed by experience.

Alone in Northern Quebec: A fresh black bear track right by my tent. Came to investigate last night...

In conclusion, living outside IS the dream... if you allow it to be.

Because it's exposing you to both the flowers and the brambles.

And if your body is not prepared, you won't know how to react if you find yourself in those brambles.

And if your mind and your spirit are not prepared... when you do pass those flowers, you won't even notice them.

And now ask yourself this:

What are the flowers I passed today... that I didn't even notice?

First flowers, early spring.

All Photos by Fred.