Pooing in the Woods

We human types - or, more specifically, we well-heeled first world white folk - tend to think of pooing in the woods as sort of the end-all-be-all of "roughing it". Sure, you've traded your concrete block and asphalt-shingled abode for a nylon and aluminum tent; you've abandoned your kitchen sink and instead must gather water from your surroundings (or at least from the 5 gallon bucket you brought from home); you've turned your back on fast-food chains and drive-thu coffee shops in favor of pop-tarts and instant coffee from a lexan mug; you've even taken to sleeping a full foot and a half closer to the actual ground than your mother thinks is good and proper. But, so long as you have even the most primitve shack with a pre-dug hole and a toilet seat, you're still in civilization. No - to really access the depths of the wilds, to become one with mother nature and all her grand design - you really need to poo in the woods.

I even know girls who consider peeing outside to be a minor persuit - something you do at overcrowded frat parties and whenever you need to impress a granola boyfriend. But to most of these free-wheeling spirits, pooing is a whole different story. There's something so much more, well, terrifying about the thought. It's a whole new level. If a guy takes you on a trip where you're gonna have to poo in the woods - it'd better be love. Either that, or he better drive one kick-ass Jeep and have parents with stock in Apple.

Now, you're wondering why the backcountry maven is even addressing the issue. Afterall you say, to her pooing in the woods is as basic as, well, washing your cooking pots with river sand or drinking out of cattle tanks. You would be sadly mistaken my friends to assume such, for even yours truly has some adjustments to do on long sojourns in the wilds. It's a challenge - one usually made worse when camping with dogs, curious children or pranksters.

No - the reason for the blog is to explore why. Lets face it - no other animal has anything remotely resembling this problem. Even the very completely domesticated canine companion will quickly adjust from pooing in a freshly mowed lawn to laying it down smack in the center of the trail in no time. They don't even need reinforcement or a demonstration - they just know it's the right thing to do.

Bears, often considered to be the most human-like of non-primate land animals, actually have pooing in the woods down to an art. I firmly believe that they are very careful to place scat in such a way that it will be found by the local migrant human population, wherein it's sure to become a source of much talk and gossip. According to this very interesting site , it is easy to determine what a bear's been eating by the consistency of it's scat. If it's full of berries and seeds, the bear has likely been eating lots of berries and seeds. If it's dark and firm and doesn't smell, it's likely been eating a lot of plant material. If it's dark and runny, the bear's been feeding on meat.

Bear scat in the Chiricahuas - might you be on the menu? (Courtesy of Sarae)

(Please note this source also says it's probably not a good idea to examine the bear scat with your hands. Like THAT was something I needed someone to tell me.)

Rodents, rabits and shrews actually provide a service to the world with their poo. Evidently, they have two kinds of scat - the usual kind, and a darker, nutrient rich kind. This "super scat" is actually a food source for other animals - including other rodenst, rabits and shrews. In lean times, look for the really dark, soft jelly beans on the forest floor. It just might save your life.

Then there's the ultimate in human discomfort- the trips where you must use a "WAG" bag (Waist Alleviation and Gelling) to transport your poo from the woods. Fanstastic. Haven't used one myself yet, though I've come close. I'm thinking it might be a good way to keep the tourists away when hiking out of popular destinations such as the Grand Canyon or Yosemite - particularly the using ones that say "toilet" across the side and swing from the back of your pack...

At the risk of a fun blog entry getting too long (too late), I'll close here with the question still open. Perhaps as a sub-species (homo sapiens sapiens var. americana) we can come to terms with those functions which every living being performs regularly, and embrace the wild animals we once were. I think it would improve our lives on many fronts - but it would certainly make a weekend on the mountain just a little less constipating.