We were lucky to catch up with Stacia Bennett recently and have shared our conversation below.

Stacia, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. What’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you?

In 2016, I was attempting a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. By the time I reached Massachusetts, I had endured every kind of challenge the trail could throw at me: hail, lightening, even a stres fracture. But nothing had prepared me for what happened when I walked into town to resupply and discovered that my debit card had been deactivated.

At first, I assumed it was a minor inconvenience—just a quick call to the bank and I’d be back on my way. But as I sat in a small pub using their WiFi, I learned the real problem: my card had been compromised due to fraudulent charges and was now completely shut down. My bank, Wells Fargo, cheerfully assured me they had protected my account. What they didn’t seem to grasp was that I was on foot, 1,500 miles from home, carrying almost no cash, with no credit card as backup. Their solution? Drive to the nearest branch—in Connecticut, 150 miles away—or wait 7–10 business days for a new card to arrive.

I sat there, my frustration growing with every passing minute, trying to explain what it meant to be stranded in the middle of nowhere without money. I couldn’t rent a car. I couldn’t book a hotel. I couldn’t even buy food to wait it out on trail. My only option seemed to be sitting there, stuck and helpless.

After an hour-long, fruitless conversation with customer service, I re-entered the pub, feeling defeated. I slumped over my beer—the only thing I could afford with the $20 in cash I had left—and tried to hold back tears. That’s when I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

I turned to see an older man wearing a Vietnam War veteran’s cap. He didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t pry. He simply reached out, clasped my hand, and said, “Ma’am, I don’t know what ails you, but I hope this helps.” Then, just as quickly as he appeared, he shuffled out the door.

I looked down at my hand, stunned. A crisp $100 bill stared back at me.

I never got the chance to thank him. But because of that stranger’s kindness, I was able to buy a bus ticket to Hartford, Connecticut, and be at the Wells Fargo branch when they opened the next morning. He had no idea what kind of situation I was in or how desperate I felt, but in that moment, he gave me exactly what I needed—hope, and a way forward.

Even now, years later, I think about that man. I think about the way he saw someone in distress and, without hesitation, chose to help. And I hope that someday, I can pay it forward in the same way he did for me.

Stacia, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

Nursing is a mid-life career endeavor for me, but my path to it has been anything but traditional. At first, I dreamed of becoming a veterinarian, but after not getting into vet school, I pivoted into dog training. From there, I became an agricultural education teacher, a backpacking guide, and even spent time working odd jobs—bartending, waitressing—while figuring out what truly felt right. Then, in 2015 and 2016, I hiked the Appalachian Trail. This 2000 mile dirt path gave me the clarity I needed: I wanted a career that provided flexibility, allowed me to take time off to travel and hike, and ultimately gave me a sense of purpose. So, at 30 years old, I went to nursing school.

Hiking, interestingly enough, wasn’t always part of my life, either. It all started with a high-energy, brilliant standard poodle I adopted right after college. At the time, I was a mostly sedentary, indoorsy post-grad living in a 400-square-foot apartment—definitely not the ideal environment for an active dog. I needed a way to keep her entertained, so I decided to try hiking. Turns out, she wasn’t the only one who needed it. That first hike changed everything, and I haven’t looked back since.

Today, I’ve blended my passions in a way that feels authentic to me. I work remotely as a nurse, giving me the flexibility I once dreamed of. I volunteer with local Appalachian Trail organizations in my trail town of Franklin, NC, and spend every free moment hiking. Through my Instagram (@adventurelikeagirl) and blog, I share my adventures and strive to inspire other solo female travelers and plus-sized adventurers to get outdoors and embrace the trails.

What sets me apart is my unconventional journey, my deep-rooted love for the outdoors, and my commitment to encouraging others—especially those who might not see themselves represented in the outdoor space—to step outside their comfort zones. Whether it’s through my work as a nurse, my volunteer efforts, or my storytelling, my goal is simple: to make the outdoors feel more accessible, welcoming, and empowering for everyone.

Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?

I am truly the master of the pivot.

When I didn’t get into vet school—twice—my years-long dream of becoming a veterinarian was crushed. So, I pivoted. I turned my love for animals into a successful dog training business. But after a while, the relentless seven-day-a-week schedule and the intricacies of business ownership left me burnt out. So, I pivoted again. I sold my business and went to grad school to become a teacher, thinking my deep-rooted connection to agriculture and my background in FFA would make agricultural education the perfect fit.

One semester in a public school classroom showed me otherwise. Teaching, at least in that setting, wasn’t for me. So, I pivoted yet again—this time, to the Appalachian Trail. I set out on a months-long journey, hoping that 2,000 miles of hiking would bring me clarity. And in a way, it did.

After finishing the AT, I took a job as a backpacking guide for troubled youth, a role that blended my experience in education with my love of the outdoors. But I quickly realized something important: hiking is a lot less enjoyable when it’s a job, especially when you’re responsible for other people’s safety and experience. Another pivot.

At 30, I went to nursing school with the goal of becoming a traveling ER nurse. And for a while, it was perfect. I thrived in the fast-paced ER environment and loved the constant change of travel nursing. But over time, patient care began to wear me down. Burnout crept in, and I started feeling disillusioned with the career I had worked so hard to build.

Then, life threw me another curveball. My longtime best friend and adventure companion, a Standard Poodle named Shooter, was diagnosed with a terminal tumor. That was my breaking point. I knew I needed to pivot once more—not just for myself, but for him. I left the ER, took a remote nursing job, and settled into a more stable, predictable routine. Now, I spend my weekdays at home with my best friend and my weekends hiking the mountains of Western North Carolina.

The point is, the answer is never to quit, give up, or throw in the towel. It’s always to pivot—find a way forward, even if it’s in a different direction. Life rarely unfolds in a straight line, but with each turn, I’ve gained new skills, new perspectives, and a deeper understanding of what truly fulfills me.

What do you think helped you build your reputation within your market?

From a creative standpoint, what has helped me build my reputation in the outdoor space is, without a doubt, my authenticity. From the moment I first started sharing my dream of hiking the Appalachian Trail, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. Back then, Instagram was barely a thing, so I turned to hiking websites and online forums for advice. What I found was a space dominated by middle-aged (mostly white) men confidently sharing their expertise on gear, trail strategies, and survival tips.

I was none of those things. I was a 20-something, plus-sized millennial with zero significant hiking or backpacking experience. I searched for voices that looked like mine—women, people in bigger bodies, beginners just figuring it out—and came up empty. So, I decided to become that voice myself.

I never set out to be an influencer, but I knew visibility mattered. I started sharing my story—first on The Trek (which was Appalachian Trials at the time), then on Instagram, and eventually on my personal blog. I wrote about my experiences as a solo woman hiking in a fat body, the challenges I faced, and the small victories along the way. Over time, that expanded to include other trails, outdoor pursuits, and even international travel. Because I was open about both the struggles and the joys, people trusted me. They saw themselves in my journey, in my missteps, in my determination to keep going.

I don’t have a massive following, and I probably never will. That was never the goal. The goal was simply to be visible—for the people who, like me, went looking for someone who looked like them and needed to know they belonged out here, too. That’s what built my reputation, and that’s what continues to sustain it today.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.adventurelikeagirl.com
• Instagram: https://instagram.com/adventurelikeagirl
• Facebook: https://facebook.com/adventurelikeagirl
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/stacia-bennett-50359a2a5
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@staciabennett