Do Rad Stuff With What You Have: A Pep Talk for De-Influencing the Outdoors

May 15

Let’s be honest: the outdoor industry loves to sell you things. Every scroll, ad, and influencer video nudges you toward the idea that the right gear, the right look, and the right destination are what make your adventures worthwhile. But that’s not how connection to place works. And it’s not what you need to feel wonder, joy, and presence outside.

At Camplight Creative, our mission is to ignite curiosity, reflection, and connection to place through illustrated storytelling and design. That mission doesn’t require a titanium spork or a plane ticket to Patagonia. It starts with what you already have—and where you already are.

You Don’t Need Fancy Gear to Go Outside

Yes, gear can help—but no, you don’t need a closet full of high-end equipment before you’re ready to begin.

Let’s break it down:

That old backpack in your closet? Toss in a peanut butter sandwich, a pencil stub, and a hand-me-down windbreaker—you’re trail-ready.
Borrowed boots, thrift store fleece, sunhat from a yard sale? That’s a solid layering system.
Don’t have a water bottle? Pick up a Smartwater bottle at the gas station—ultralight thru-hikers swear by them for a reason.
Want to bring art supplies? A ballpoint pen and the back of an envelope are enough to start seeing more deeply.

Some of the most reliable tools in my kit were made, traded, scavenged, or repaired.

I’ve seen Grand Canyon boaters fix a hypalon raft seam with Aquaseal and the heat of a Dutch oven lid. I’ve cut sleeping pads from foam packing scraps salvaged from a dumpster and shaped a stove windscreen out of a beer can and a multi-tool. A friend once lashed their broken bikepacking rack together with voile straps and a tent stake. I’ve re-sewn hipbelt webbing with dental floss, and carried creek water in a rinsed-out bag of trail mix.

This kind of scrappy ingenuity doesn’t just save money—it builds confidence. It shifts the story from “I need better gear” to “I can figure this out.”

You don’t need the newest gadgets.

You need a sense of wonder, a little flexibility, and the belief that you belong out there.

Curiosity weighs nothing.

You Don’t Need a Plane Ticket to Find Wildness

There’s this myth that “real” adventure lives in the places that go viral. You know the ones: glowing alpine lakes, red rock arches at golden hour, perfect campfire setups on a #vanlife deck.

But the best stories often start right outside your front door.

Instead of planning your next trip around an Instagram destination, try this:

Make your own challenge list. Forget the Adirondack 46 or the Colorado 14ers for a second. What about every public lake within 50 miles of your house? Or all the city parks connected by bus or bike route?
Connect the dots your way. Plan a bikepacking or day-biking route that hits your favorite coffee shop, the weird bakery with the cardamom buns, that BBQ joint with picnic tables, and a hidden riverbank. Instant microadventure.
Explore your local waterline. Walk a stretch of river or shoreline you’ve never noticed. Paddle the edges of a pond. Wade in up to your knees and see what’s living under the rocks. Take notes, draw what you find, and let the current set the pace.

Connection to place doesn’t need a national park entrance fee. It needs attention. Camplight Creative is built on that very idea. That your backyard, your county, your watershed hold more stories than we often allow ourselves to see.

Your Stuff Tells a Story, Too

This isn’t just about saving money or resisting trends (though that’s a bonus). It’s about storytelling. The gear you patch. The maps you annotate. The sun-faded hat that’s seen every summit and swim hole. The mesh bag that used to hold oranges and now holds your stove kit. These things accumulate memories. They get better with time.

You don’t have to be a minimalist or a gearhead—you just have to be intentional. Use the beat-up panniers your friend gave you. Borrow a paddle. Trade your extra camp mug for a better headlamp. Sew a patch from your old bandana onto the seat of your climbing pants. Then head out and do something rad, meaningful, or totally ridiculous with it. That’s the good stuff.

Real Connection Is Handmade

At Camplight Creative, I create hand-drawn journals, maps, field guides, and nature writing to help people slow down and pay attention. The work isn’t flashy. It is grounded. It’s designed to meet you where you are, whether that’s a big trail day or a backyard wander with your kid and a mason jar.

I believe the outdoors should feel like something you can access, not something you have to earn by buying the right jacket or chasing the perfect summit.

So let this be your pep talk:
You’re already enough.
You’re already ready.
You can do rad stuff with what you have, where you are.

Want to Get Started?

Here are a few free or nearly-free challenges to try this weekend:

Draw your own neighborhood nature map.
Mark the big trees, the alley fox den, the sidewalk crack filled with moss.
Start a backyard bird list.
Even if it only has crows, starlings, or that one weird goose with a limp.
Plan a “coffee-to-cocktail” bike ride.
Map a route that hits your favorite café, a bakery, a hidden park, a food truck, and a local speakeasy—or lemonade stand.
Plan a salty shoreline scavenger hunt.
Shells, seaweed textures, bird calls, boat names—make a list, then search barefoot at low tide.
Let your kid lead the way.
Give them a compass, a granola bar, and a destination (“the biggest tree you can find”), and follow their pace and choices.
Climb the highest point in your county.
Even if it’s a hill behind a dump. Pack snacks. Make it epic.
Map all the public lands or trails within 10 miles.
Print a map, highlight your options, and pick one you’ve never been to before.
Pick a loop and repeat it weekly.
Notice how the same trail changes in sound, light, smell, and texture over time. Let your curiosity grow with the trail.

Let’s de-influence the outdoors, together. Let’s reclaim wonder as something homemade, not bought. And let’s get muddy, make mistakes, and carry mismatched gear with pride.

What's in your pack?
Tell me what gear you’ve loved, fixed, found, or made. Let’s build a story around it.

Allie Maloney