Confessions of an outdoor pooper
I once pooped in a dam. Shocking, I know. We did a lot of camping and waterskiing when I was younger and more often than not, if you needed to go number 2, you’d have to march up steep tarmac hills in 30-degree heat, hundreds of meters away, only to find an eye-watering drop toilet. Hence the lazy dam poop. This was when I came to the horrific realisation that poo floats. You can’t bury poo in water. It’s impossible. You just have to swish it away and hope no one notices. And to my delight, I was never pinned for the crime. But it does feel good to confess. Since then I’ve pooped in numerous other outdoor places, many of which were more pleasant than the taste and smell of drop toilets.
Though pooping in the bush has become the norm on backcountry, I’m still learning how to do it well. Up until now I’ve been a poop and squish/cover with an unsuspecting rock kinda gal, out of sight out of mind. But there’s a little voice niggling at me still, “Surely you can do better than that.”
One of my pet hates is seeing toilet paper scrunched up in the wild. It’s like kissing your sister. Or at least that’s the phrase my dad likes to whip out when he wants to describe something disgusting. It is gross! It just flops there and lies around till it grows old and crispy, all the while nobody wants to pick it up or give it a second look.
Over the years, my process of going number one in the wild has evolved. I used to do a little wee, have a little wipe and then shove my toilet paper in a hole somewhere with a stick, “There, right at the back, that should do it”. Next up, I tried the wee and wiggle technique. Successful, sustainable and hands-free but smelly. I never have enough time to squat there and properly air dry, resulting in having to walk around with slightly damp undies that smell like pee. Wouldn’t want anybody to catch a whiff. These days, I’ve met in the middle. I take toilet paper, enjoy the glory of wiping, and then stash it and carry it with me. Feels pretty good to wander around with a clear conscious. But just when you think you’re peaking in your tactics with the wee situation, there’s always something new to try. A wee wipe. A couple of close girlfriends of mine use a Kula Cloth, and it inspired me to buy one. It’s a reusable antimicrobial pee cloth which is resistant to odours. Win freaking win.
But what about poos? Time for confessions, I’ve still been squishing my toilet paper under the mega rocks. Awful, I know. I just look down at the poo streaked paper and think, “That’s too icky, how could I possibly carry that out and still have friends later”. Not good enough, I know, and very contradictory to my hate relationship with seeing others sprawled toilet paper in the wild. But writing this will help keep me accountable, I will endeavour to stash and carry my poo paper. There, I said it. I also need to level up and start digging down, bury my poop in a happy place where the decomposing process is sped up and healthier for the environment. Baby steps.
For the elite there are some other pro poo options to choose from too. Wag bags. These are biodegradable human doggy bags that help fully fulfil the leave no trace etiquette. I admire people who have the guts to carry their poop. 5 stars to you. Maybe I’ll join you one day, or be forced if I ever am brave enough to sleep on a portaledge.
If you’re still at the stage of poking your toilet paper in holes with a stick, I hope my confessions and attempts to grow have inspired you to join me. Here’s to evolving in outdoor loo practices, shovelling, squatting, stashing and sealing, all while taking in the view.