Not Just a Bearded Man's Game: A Woman's Take on Bushcraft

by Brooke Wowak

Let’s get one thing straight: just because my husband is a survival expert and runs Coalcracker Bushcraft doesn’t mean I’m out here starting fires with two sticks and sleeping in squirrel pelts. I mean, I could… I just haven’t… yet.

Truth is, when people think “bushcraft,” they often picture a grizzly guy with a knife the size of his forearm, chopping wood and wrestling bears. But ladies—listen—I’m here to tell you the wild is calling, and it’s not just calling the dudes.

Bushcraft isn’t about being some mountain man with an ax and a beard. It’s about learning how to actually handle yourself outdoors. Things like building a shelter so you’re not sleeping in the rain, getting a fire going when it’s cold and damp, using tools the right way, and knowing what’s edible and what will send you running for help. It’s real-life, hands-on, practical skills that make you more confident every time you step outside.

And here’s the thing—we’re already built for this. Think about it:

Multi-tasking? You’ve packed lunches, answered emails, and kept small humans alive—all before 9 a.m. You can absolutely rig a tarp shelter while boiling water and keeping an eye out for that one friend who always forgets the toilet paper.

Intuition? That “gut feeling” you get? It’s basically wilderness ESP. Trust it. Especially when it’s telling you not to sit on that log covered in ants.

Patience? Let’s just say that starting a fire with a ferro rod is not unlike trying to reason with a toddler who wants to wear shorts in a snowstorm. You’ve got this.

Sure, there are challenges. The wilderness doesn’t have WiFi, mirrors, or a place to reheat your coffee (tragic, I know). But it does have a way of reminding you how capable, strong, and resourceful you really are.

I used to think, "Dan’s the expert, I’ll just tag along and bring snacks." But over time, I realized I didn’t have to be him—I just had to be me. A woman with curiosity, grit, and a healthy respect for duct tape. And once I started learning the skills—how to make fire, use a knife properly, set up camp, cook over coals—I realized this stuff isn’t just useful, it’s actually fun.

And honestly? The best part about being out in the woods isn’t just proving to yourself that you can hang. It’s the quiet. It’s the peace that settles in once the fire crackles to life, the stars start showing off, and the only thing you have to do is just be. No phone buzzing, no to-do list, no chaos—just you and the stillness of the trees.

So if you’ve ever doubted your place in the woods, let me say this: the forest doesn’t care about your mascara. It cares that you show up.

Pack your bag. Lace up your boots. Go get your hands dirty.

With dirt under my nails and coffee in my cup,

Brooke