There isn't much in the way of a road, entering or leaving the elven realm of Lothlorien. Small paths, here and there, kept passable only because wildlife find them just as convenient as the rare elf. The only real way south or north is by boat, or by a long detour east or west, or a slow pick through woodlands where someone inexperienced is more likely to get lost than not. No one goes east anymore, not since the shadow fell over the southern reaches of the Greenwood - Mirkwood, as those few who bother gossiping about the outside world call it now.
To the west and a bit to the north is, theoretically, a path through (more over) the mountains - the Redhorn Gate, the one usually used by the few parties visiting Lothlorien. The goblins of the Misty Mountains are supposed to be few, especially this far south, ever since their many wars with the dwarves, but the pass still has a reputation for danger and treachery.
Relevant to her, it is quickly becoming very, very cold, even under the high summer sun, and the only food around is what she's carrying. The streams at least are clear, flush with the last of the spring snow melt, and while they're bitterly cold they're not yet frozen.