The Fat Girl's Guide to Living

Dirty, gritty, sun-kissed and happy on Utah’s Green River

When I started telling friends earlier this year that I was planning to spend five days in a canoe in the southern Utah wilderness this summer, I got lots of odd looks. The you’re crazy! look. The whatever for? look. The better-you-than-me look. The wow, your butt fits in a canoe? look.

A handful of friends did admit they thought it sounded like fun, but then most stared off into space as they imagined themselves getting stuck with their butts permanently wedged into the canoe seat, or worse, sinking the boat to the bottom of the river or launching a potentially smaller, lighter canoe partner 50 feet into the air, see-saw style, when they got in.

I am happy to report upon returning that my own smaller, lighter canoe partner, Billie, was at no time airborne for any part of those five days, no canoes were sunk and not once did I have to pry my butt from the gnarly jaws of the canoe seat. A guide was in order.

While canoeing is pretty simple, I’ll leave it to a short video and how-to page to give you the basics on strokes, paddling style and other technical information. What I’ll be focusing on here, naturally, are the questions and hesitations overweight women often have about canoeing. This guide will also be addressing day canoe trips, not overnight canoe camping trips, as well as standard canoe styles like those available for rent at most outfitters.

Can most overweight women fit in a canoe?

Unlike kayaks, which are also fat-girl friendly, most canoes are open-bottom vessels with bridge seats, that is, flat, bench-like seats that bridge the width of the canoe and attach to each side. These are usually level with the top edges of the canoe (vs. set down inside as with kayaks), which means there’s not a closed cockpit to squeeze into so much as an open platform to sit on. In standard canoes there are usually two of these: one in the very back of the canoe (stern) and one up toward the front (bow). Typically the front bench is wider than the back, but both seats can usually accommodate ample rear ends comfortably. Example.

I have bad posture, and canoe seats don’t have any back support. Is there anything I can do about that?

Yep! Most outdoor retailers sell stadium-style chairs designed to clip onto a standard canoe seat. These range from economy to mid-range to fancy, both in price and in comfort. I picked up a basic Walmart stadium seat for $17 and it worked great. The back support held a lot of weight, even leaning back on purpose, and it doubled as a camp chair every night around the fire.

If I’m really overweight, could I sink a canoe?

It would be tough to load a canoe with enough weight to sink it. Most standard canoes are rated with weight limits around 800 lbs, and some up to 1,200 lbs or more. That means if you and your canoe partner are each 300 lbs., you can load your canoe down with another 200-600 lbs of gear and supplies and be just fine (for most day trips, you’ll only need a small fraction of that). My canoe partner and I tipped the scales at a total of 390 lbs between us, and then had another 200-300 lbs of camping gear, stoves, five days’ worth of food and other items loaded in, and our 17′ Grumman canoe moved like a dream.

I’m afraid of the *getting in* part, either tipping the canoe over or flipping it up when I put all my weight on one end.

Canoes are built for steadiness, and their shape is such that it distributes weight evenly over the surface of the water even when large, imbalanced weight loads are placed on it. Sure, it’s possible to tip a canoe over if you’re not careful (this is true for anyone, not just those who are heavy), but you’re not likely to flip one up, see-saw style, unless you place more than half of the full weight limit on one end of an otherwise empty canoe. In most cases, you’ll load your gear and supplies in first, in the middle section of the canoe. At that point, anyone can step in on either end – and as long as you keep the weight of your step(s) along the center line, your boat will remain steady.

If I’m overweight, should I sit in the front or the back of a canoe?

Both stern and bow seats can accommodate most body shapes and volumes, so that decision depends on your level of skill, strength and experience. If you’re going solo in your canoe, you’re in charge of both propulsion paddling (moving forward) and steering (guiding the direction). You’ll want to sit in the back and put your stuff up front. If you’ve got a canoe partner, you can choose who sits where based on who wants to/can take on the majority of the paddling muscle (front) and who wants to/can do the steering (back). If you’ve both learned how to steer and paddle properly, you can change places as much as you like.

But if I’m heavy, won’t I slow the canoe down?

Not unless you don’t paddle! Weight-related drag is usually negligible unless you’re paddling against wind or a current. If you’re canoeing a river, the natural pace of the water will move you along, and you’ll just paddle in the slow or dead spots to keep things going. You’d be surprised at the amount of gain you’ll get from just a few strong paddle strokes, weight or no weight. We had five canoes on the river, which was flat and slow most of the trip, and the others nicknamed our canoe “Speedy Gonzales” because even being chubby we’d always end up far ahead of everyone else.

What is portaging, and should I be worried?

Portaging means taking your canoe out of the water and carrying it across land, sometimes for just a few feet around/over a sand bar, sometimes for several miles around impassable sections of river. Some canoers love the chance to portage (I, for the record, am not one of them), others avoid routes that require portaging at all costs. Most popular canoeing spots don’t require portaging, but if you’re heading out on an unfamiliar route, check with the outfitter or consult maps or local agencies to be sure – because if you’re out of shape, portaging can make an otherwise wonderful trip go sour pretty fast. During the five days and 60+ miles of our canoe trip, we had to get out and pull our canoe twice over small sand bars, but neither of those required much effort or more than a few minutes.

What about life vests and personal flotation devices (PFDs)? Do I have to wear one, and will they fit me?

Whether or not a PFD is required will depend on where you’re canoeing and who you’re renting from (if anyone). Most outfitters are required to provide you with a personal flotation device like a life vest and/or floating seat cushion. Unless the stretch of water you’re canoeing is known to get rough, using them is usually at your discretion. That said, standard adult life vests are usually one-size-fits all, and I can assure you they mean it. The straps are adjustable, and even the top-heaviest among us can buckle them fairly comfortably.

What else should I consider?

Canoeing and kayaking both are among the easiest sports for women who are overweight to take on. They’re low-impact, can be learned quickly (an hour demonstration by an outfitter before launch usually sends you off with what you need to know), allow you to cover good distances and see cool things in a fraction of the time and effort it would take to walk, don’t require you to be in good physical shape already, and give your core and upper body a surprisingly good workout without wearing you out.

General rules of outdoor recreation apply: wear sunscreen, bring a wide-brimmed hat for direct, mid-afternoon sun, have a basic first-aid kit available, drink plenty of water and let others know where you’ll be. Dress casually but with weather in mind, bringing a change of clothes if you don’t like spending the day partially wet (and you will, in most cases). If you’re diabetic, bring a few pieces of candy and any medications along in a waterproof dry bag. Water shoes are a great idea, especially if you plan to do any swimming. Tip: Celery sticks dipped in peanut butter, ham and cheese roll-ups, and beef jerky are great for picking up waning afternoon energy!

Remember: if you go, let us know! Leave a comment about your trip or your plans for one, and as always, we’d love to see the photographic evidence over in our FGG Girls Flickr Group.

Chilling in Camp Dining Room moments before the kids kicked me off and took over

We realize that roughing it isn’t for everyone, but camping is an affordable and fun way to travel. Camping also offers the chance to disconnect from email and text messages while reconnecting with the natural world. And sleeping on the ground needn’t mean the end of all creature comforts, even if you’re on the fuller size of full-figured.

If you’ve never been camping before, you might wonder why more than a sleeping bag is necessary. First, it’s not like you’ll find grandma’s neon orange shag carpet out there–without a proper barrier between you and Mother Earth, rocks, roots, and twigs will go bump in your night. Some campgrounds even require that you pitch a tent in a designated area, which is often covered with gravel. Second, a camping mattress also provides insulation from the cold–and sometimes wet–ground. Third, depending on the type of activity you’ll be doing, like backpacking or hiking into a remote campsite, the bulk and weight of the mattress itself might matter.

But finding a bed away from home isn’t always easy given the array of choices, not all of which are geared toward girls of a certain size. Here’s our guide to finding that sweet sleeping spot that won’t leave you feeling like you’re dozing on top of a marshmallow.

Get to know the types of camping mattresses and pads.

Foam pads – You may have used the ancestral version of these pads (which remind me of the stuff they use to make Crocs) for Girl Scout campouts. Designs and materials have evolved since then; there’s some spring to these pads, there’s nothing to inflate (or leak), and the insulating properties are decent, but I’d put these at the lower end of the comfort scale for most users.

Self-inflating pads – The term “pad” and “mattress” are sometimes used interchangeably here because self-inflating pads combine the best of many backpacking and camping worlds: portability, durability, and comfort. Self-inflating pads come in a variety of lengths, widths, and thicknesses depending on your needs. Backpackers often use shorter, narrower, and thinner pads to save ounces on the trail, but car campers can afford a bit more luxury, which is what I’m all about at this point in my outdoorsy life.

Air mattresses with pumps – These look more like the mattress on your bed or the Aerobed you have stowed away for overnight guests. Pluses: they come in a range of sizes (including queen and king) and are widely available at big box retailers. Minuses: these tend to have a “waterbed effect,” which I prefer to leave in the 1970s where it belongs. Add a sleepmate to the mix and if anyone moves, it feels like you’re riding on a raft in the ocean awaiting rescue. This type of mattress tends to be more vulnerable to leaks and punctures (more surface area means more can go wrong) and they often require a separate foot or battery-operated pump. The technology is always improving on these things, so read reviews of recent models to see if stability and durability improve over time.

My personal pick – I use a size large REI Camp Bed 3.5 Self-Inflating Pad, pictured above. First off, it’s much smaller and therefore more portable than traditional air mattresses, and it’s a snap to set up (“self inflating” pretty much means what it says). Second, it’s thicker than a backpacking mattress (for a good suggestion on those, check out this glowing review of the Therm-a-Rest NeoAir by the gear testers at Backpacker magazine) and I find it super-comfy for my size 20 bod. My husband feels these are just a bit too narrow, but he’s 6′1″ with a rib cage like a linebacker, so we probably should have purchased an extra large for him (REI lists the specs for each mattress on their web site). Finally, it doesn’t slide around on the tent floor, it feels luxurious, and I sleep really well using it.

Take one for a test roll. Find a reputable retailer who will let you try out a mattress first. REI is renowned for their excellent customer service, so if you have one in your area, check them out. Check the return policy to make sure you can return the mattress or pad if it doesn’t work out. Again, companies like REI, L.L. Bean, and even some independent shops (ask around!) will accept returns of used items, while big box retailers might be less likely to do so. And don’t forget about borrowing gear from friends to see if a particular pad or mattress might work for you.

Now that you have some of the basics down, what are you waiting for? Get shopping for that next overnight under the stars!

Let us know your favorites! This guide is based on my over twenty years of camping and backpacking experience but it’s by no means exhaustive. If you have a favorite camping pad or mattress–or hammock or cot–share what works for you in the comments section.