When I received an ADHD diagnosis at almost 40, it felt like finding a trail map and a flashlight after wandering in a dark forest all my life.
Medical professionals define attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) as a pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity that can interfere with daily life. It’s one of the most commonly diagnosed conditions in children and often lasts into adulthood (affecting 4% to 5% of adults). However, like many neurological disorders, ADHD has a branding problem. Many people think it’s all about difficulty focusing, but there are three types of ADHD that each present differently: predominantly hyperactive/impulsive, predominantly inattentive or a combination of the two. I got the combo pack. This means I lose my keys, hate following instructions and make careless mistakes. I also talk a lot, bounce my legs and am bad with directions.
My diagnosis helped me better understand my impulsivity, disorganization and procrastination. It also helped me see and appreciate the wild splendor of the trail. ADHD, and my proclivity to crave the next new thing, is part of what makes me such an adventurer.
And while being in nature can be scary because of these traits, it’s also an antidote. Time outside helps me focus, and I know many others with the same diagnosis can relate. A 2004 study showed that natural settings can reduce ADHD symptoms and improve focus. Though much of this research has been conducted on children, I find the same to be true for myself as an adult. On a backpacking trip in the Enchantments in Washington several years ago, with my cell phone powered down in the bottom of my bag, I felt a sense of calm that I thought I’d lost forever in the digital age. It’s easy to feel fractured and distracted thanks to technology. Modern life creates a higher level of mental chaos that overtakes my limited executive function.
But planning for outdoor adventures—in particular, camping—can also present a challenge for me. Each logistical detail, from what to pack to mapping out a trail, is a chance to forget something or to make a careless mistake. The stakes increase when you’re out in the field. Forgetting something could mean a serious shift in your level of enjoyment on a trip, or even having to turn home. (Yes, I once forgot to pack water, one of the Ten Essentials.)
After more than 10 years of creating and honing systems for a better camp experience for myself, I’ve learned how to mitigate the hurdles and bask in the peace and joy of the outdoors. Your own approach may look different, but here’s how I do it for myself.
Schedule Prep and Breakdown
Two things I hate about my ADHD are the time-blindness (or the challenge of estimating how much time a task will take) and my inability to complete tedious tasks like packing and unpacking. People with ADHD have difficulty finding motivation to complete tedious tasks (experts suspect it’s due to a disruption of the dopamine reward pathway). So, I have to create systems to ensure I finish these to-dos. After all, the last thing you want to do is leave a dew-moistened tent in your car for a few weeks after a trip.
I schedule my packing and unpacking time in advance, and sometimes it helps to split tasks up to half an hour a day for two or three days. It makes the chores seem smaller. For instance, if I plan to camp on a Friday, my schedule may look something like this: On Tuesday, I find and pack the clothes I plan to bring; on Wednesday, I make the meal plan; Thursday, I shop and pack the food as well as gear. When unpacking, I start with the essentials—unpacking the cooler, for instance—and schedule two additional hour-long sessions over the coming days to finish the rest.
Checklists
After reading a book about the power of creating checklists, I realized how important lists are for simply getting things right—but it took forgetting deodorant on a camping trip to become militant about making them. I’m talking about a spreadsheet with checkboxes. Just how nerdy my spreadsheet gets (there are columns, there’s filtering) I will take to the grave, but any simple list that you can re-use will suffice. I’ve realized my most powerful antidote to the hard-to-manage aspects of my ADHD is nerdiness. I have embraced it.
Editor’s note: We’ve done some of this for you. Look at our Expert Advice checklist library for help with camping, hiking and other adventure planning.
If you like the feel of a list in your hands, consider printing one out and laminating it. You can create a few lists—one for packing, one for set up and one for break down—and bring them along with a dry-erase marker to camp. Then enjoy the dopamine hit of each check, as well as a chaos-free campsite.
Packing Bins and Labels
In a brain that fuels chaos, my label maker calms me with its neat fonts and delightful emojis. (Did you know chicken-scratch handwriting is common among people with ADHD?) I have two gear bins, one with a label that says “Camping Gear,” and another that says “Camping Kitchen.” I recently upgraded to a label maker that prints up to 1-inch-tall labels, so there’s no mystery as to what’s in those boxes, even at a distance. It really helps me feel calmer.
A bin system also helps with communication if you’re packing up and unpacking with someone else. You don’t have to ask each other what goes where.
(Related reading: Uncommon Challenge: Living Life Out of Packing Cubes
A Ridiculously Large Tent
You say 4-person, I say one person with ADHD. During a camping trip, I arrange my clothing in a method resembling the aftermath of a Black Friday sale. While unbecoming, I don’t see it changing any time soon. So, unless I’m hiking 10 miles a day with my tent strapped to my back, it really doesn’t matter how big it is. The extra space to accommodate this harmless habit is worth it to me.
Sleeping Pad
ADHD can cause insomnia and, delight of delights, lack of sleep can make it harder to manage ADHD symptoms. I go all out on comfort when it comes to getting sleep. I’m not above an inflatable mattress when I’m car camping, but if I’m backpacking, I give myself the gift of a really nice sleeping pad. The right pad insulates me from the cold ground and provides enough cushion to keep me cozy all night. The test for me? How my hip feels when I sleep on my side.
Related reading: How to Choose a Sleeping Pad
Power Bank
Going to bed is a 17-step process, part of which is listening to an audiobook or meditation, so I need to make sure I have my device charged. (Silence? My brain will just fill it in and rev itself up.) I keep my phone charged with a power bank. Some of us with ADHD also tend to need our phones to ping us with reminders.
Related reading: How to Choose Solar Chargers and Portable Power and How to Save Phone Battery Life in the Backcountry
Hiking Pants
All pants should have as many pockets and zippers as hiking pants—pockets so you can carry lots of things with you, and zippers so you don’t lose those things (this helps my organization). A pair of hiking pants should be administered with each ADHD diagnosis. And I really should wear them everywhere, considering how many people stop me on the street to tell me my phone or wallet is about to fall out of my pocket. Since I moved away from Seattle, a place where everyone dresses like a hike is about to break out, I have to save them for just the camping trips.
Related reading: How to Choose Hiking Clothes
Emotional Support Hoodie
The world can feel overwhelming to people with ADHD, and I love being enveloped in a hoodie because it provides a sense of comfort. Sometimes it helps that the sides block out my peripheral vision, like a horse with blinders on.
Compass
Everyone should have some form of navigation on a camping trip (ideally a compass and a map or GPS device). Navigation tools are one of the Ten Essentials. I make sure to have a compass on me at all times while camping, and I love having one as a keychain (dropping a compass can damage it, so make sure you’re careful with your keys if you choose this option). It’s a reminder that I can find my direction using a device that can’t run out of batteries. In a mind that so often swirls with misdirection, it feels great to have something that tethers me to the literal earth. If you’re new to navigation or need a refresh, REI has classes on backcountry navigation, orienteering, maps and more.
My Hyperfixation
Many people with ADHD bask in hyperfixations, and when I’m not hiking or swimming, I enjoy my favorite ones: reading, so I bring lots of books; watching a campfire, so I pack plenty of firewood (after checking fire restrictions, of course); and throwing a disc, whether in a field or waist-deep in a lake. This final one is easy, battery-free and mesmerizing. It calms me and gives me exercise. Other campers might want to bring a knitting project, a game or an instrument.
Related reading: How to Choose a Hammock
A Hammock
ADHD often involves stimming, or self-stimulation, which can be a repetitive behavior that can feel self-soothing or serve as a way to focus. I once bounced my leg under a table so long that I gradually vibrated a glass ketchup bottle that sat on top of the table onto the floor. A more peaceful kind of stimming can include swaying in a hammock at camp while reading.
Spares
I make sure to pack spares of any important items that are also very lose-able, like headlamps, bug repellent and toiletries. In the past, I’d get mad at myself when I’d lose something. Now I’m (mostly) able to forgive myself and understand that’s just part of living with my version of ADHD. Many of these items are small and inexpensive to replace, so I just get multiples when I can.
Camping feels like an essential part of my life with ADHD, though it can be a little more difficult to do it well. The better I get at it, the less I forget or mess up. The more I build out my kit, the more I feel a sense of pride and independence—feelings that many of us with ADHD don’t take for granted.
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