Cheryl Strayed, 43, wears lipstick and motorcycle boots and hasn’t gone backpacking since her kids, 6 and 8, were born.

But make no mistake: Beneath that unassuming exterior is one tough outdoorswoman.

In 1995, despite having no backpacking experience, Strayed embarked on a 1,100-mile solo hike on the Pacific Crest Trail.

Physically, she was unprepared.

Her boots were too small, so she finished with just half the toenails she started with.

Her pack was so heavy she nicknamed it “Monster” and struggled to stand under its mass.

She ran out of water and became so dehydrated that she went 24 hours without having to pee.

Emotionally, however, she was primed for pain.

The sudden death of her mother, her subsequent divorce and a heroin-fueled affair had left the 26-year-old bereft and unsure of who she was. Somewhere between the Mojave Desert and the Columbia River, she rediscovered herself: resilient, forgiving and — yes — lucky.

She recounts this journey in her memoir, “Wild.”

Earlier this month, I spoke with Strayed, who said that the hike permanently changed her relationship to pain. Years later, when she went through natural childbirth, for example, she thought back to her trek.

“I remembered hiking on the PCT, and that feeling (that) you just have to focus on the moment and survive that moment,” she says.

The Portland resident rebuffs the snobbery that can seep into the culture of backpacking.

“I didn’t know anything about that world,” she says. “But what was so awesome (was) I still did it: I backpacked all that way.”

For Strayed, the sport’s appeal lies in its simplicity — almost anyone who can walk can do it.

“If we want things like wild trails to be built and honored and maintained, and if we want to have a culture that really values that kind of outdoor recreation, then I think that we need to make room for (all kinds). Not every hiker needs … a license from some committee,” she says.

Since the book was published in March, Strayed has been riding a tidal wave of the kind of news that most authors can only dream of.

Reese Witherspoon bought the movie rights.

The book garnered glowing reviews and debuted at No. 7 on The New York Times best-seller list. Today, it sits at No. 1.

Oprah called to say she loved Strayed’s book so much that she wanted to revive her book club. More copies of “Wild” were printed and affixed with that Midas touch, the “Oprah’s Book Club” sticker.

“It got to the point where it was like, ‘OK, I don’t even understand this,’” Strayed says with a laugh.

It also paved the way for the July release of “Tiny Beautiful Things,” a collection of unorthodox advice columns written by Strayed that is also a Times best-seller.

There are more personal triumphs, too. For example, Strayed says she’s thrilled to have boosted sales of some of the books she carried on her hike and referred to in “Wild” — such as Adrienne Rich’s poetry collection, “The Dream of a Common Language.”

During her ongoing book tour, Strayed meets readers who tell her that “Wild” occupies a similarly beloved spot in their backpacks.

Strayed says she and her husband, filmmaker Brian Lindstrom, look forward to taking their kids backpacking for the first time next year.

They’ve done plenty of day hikes. And Strayed knows the perfect place for their first overnight trip: the Three Sisters Wilderness Area. They’ll hike a stretch of the PCT, of course.