Postcard 9:  The Woodland Toilet
A good shit in the woods can be a transcendental experience if done right. One of my buddy’s crew leaders says there are 5 stars of shitting in the woods—wildlife spotting, you see someone who doesn’t see you, a good view, something to wipe with, and something to sit on/lean against—and you can assess your activity by how many of the star criteria you meet. However, a good poop in nature can be much simpler, and sometimes you don’t even need something to lean against.As a sufferer of Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) for several years the status of my poop is a constant concern of mine, and a good movement can have a significant impact on my day—even more so, it is a genuinely rare treat to take a good, solid shit (as I am prone to suffering from months of loose stools or constipation). So woodland pooping wasn’t necessarily something I was initially eager to try unless absolutely forced by raging bowels. On my most recent hitch out around Swan Lake, Montana I ventured into the woods many times to clear out my intestines. On Monday I released a sizeable turd that moved smoothly as I squatted and hovered my ass over a little hole i dug out with a stick. However, it wasn’t until the second day of work that I feel like I hit my stride. It was then that I devised the log-squat method of the outdoor toilet arts. Finding the right log to squat over is a bit of a trick. Chiefly, it must be at least 200 feet away from any water source and since we worked around a few creeks over the last week, this proved tricky. Also, finding a place to easily walk down and back up and find the trail is another large problem I have—I often get lost on my return—since I like to be well out of sight to any potential eyes. But finding the right fallen tree is the true test—ideally the tree should be 18-30 inches off the ground, have no pig ears (pokey stubs where branches once were) and be thick enough to hold your weight, but not too thick as one should not shit on the fallen timber itself. It’s an added bonus if it has no bark, since sometimes little bits of bark get stuck to one’s thighs and asscheeks in the process.I always check my perimeter for other humans or wildlife before dropping trow and grabbing some toilet paper from my shit kit (which contains enough toilet paper to last the hitch, a lighter for burning the tp and some hand sanitizer) and letting nature take over. I typically have a little bit of open air hesitation since I prefer to do my business in close quarters (I might be the one person in the universe who avoids handicap stalls). But once it’s all said and done, I look down and survey my work, then try to burn up the toilet paper and move some dirt over it with a stick. Sanitize hands. Try to find my way back with a heightened sense of relief and harmony with nature.

Postcard 9:  The Woodland Toilet

A good shit in the woods can be a transcendental experience if done right. One of my buddy’s crew leaders says there are 5 stars of shitting in the woods—wildlife spotting, you see someone who doesn’t see you, a good view, something to wipe with, and something to sit on/lean against—and you can assess your activity by how many of the star criteria you meet. However, a good poop in nature can be much simpler, and sometimes you don’t even need something to lean against.

As a sufferer of Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) for several years the status of my poop is a constant concern of mine, and a good movement can have a significant impact on my day—even more so, it is a genuinely rare treat to take a good, solid shit (as I am prone to suffering from months of loose stools or constipation). So woodland pooping wasn’t necessarily something I was initially eager to try unless absolutely forced by raging bowels.

On my most recent hitch out around Swan Lake, Montana I ventured into the woods many times to clear out my intestines. On Monday I released a sizeable turd that moved smoothly as I squatted and hovered my ass over a little hole i dug out with a stick. However, it wasn’t until the second day of work that I feel like I hit my stride. It was then that I devised the log-squat method of the outdoor toilet arts. Finding the right log to squat over is a bit of a trick. Chiefly, it must be at least 200 feet away from any water source and since we worked around a few creeks over the last week, this proved tricky. Also, finding a place to easily walk down and back up and find the trail is another large problem I have—I often get lost on my return—since I like to be well out of sight to any potential eyes. But finding the right fallen tree is the true test—ideally the tree should be 18-30 inches off the ground, have no pig ears (pokey stubs where branches once were) and be thick enough to hold your weight, but not too thick as one should not shit on the fallen timber itself. It’s an added bonus if it has no bark, since sometimes little bits of bark get stuck to one’s thighs and asscheeks in the process.

I always check my perimeter for other humans or wildlife before dropping trow and grabbing some toilet paper from my shit kit (which contains enough toilet paper to last the hitch, a lighter for burning the tp and some hand sanitizer) and letting nature take over. I typically have a little bit of open air hesitation since I prefer to do my business in close quarters (I might be the one person in the universe who avoids handicap stalls). But once it’s all said and done, I look down and survey my work, then try to burn up the toilet paper and move some dirt over it with a stick. Sanitize hands. Try to find my way back with a heightened sense of relief and harmony with nature.

Postcard 9:  The Woodland Toilet
A good shit in the woods can be a transcendental experience if done right. One of my buddy’s crew leaders says there are 5 stars of shitting in the woods—wildlife spotting, you see someone who doesn’t see you, a good view, something to wipe with, and something to sit on/lean against—and you can assess your activity by how many of the star criteria you meet. However, a good poop in nature can be much simpler, and sometimes you don’t even need something to lean against.As a sufferer of Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) for several years the status of my poop is a constant concern of mine, and a good movement can have a significant impact on my day—even more so, it is a genuinely rare treat to take a good, solid shit (as I am prone to suffering from months of loose stools or constipation). So woodland pooping wasn’t necessarily something I was initially eager to try unless absolutely forced by raging bowels. On my most recent hitch out around Swan Lake, Montana I ventured into the woods many times to clear out my intestines. On Monday I released a sizeable turd that moved smoothly as I squatted and hovered my ass over a little hole i dug out with a stick. However, it wasn’t until the second day of work that I feel like I hit my stride. It was then that I devised the log-squat method of the outdoor toilet arts. Finding the right log to squat over is a bit of a trick. Chiefly, it must be at least 200 feet away from any water source and since we worked around a few creeks over the last week, this proved tricky. Also, finding a place to easily walk down and back up and find the trail is another large problem I have—I often get lost on my return—since I like to be well out of sight to any potential eyes. But finding the right fallen tree is the true test—ideally the tree should be 18-30 inches off the ground, have no pig ears (pokey stubs where branches once were) and be thick enough to hold your weight, but not too thick as one should not shit on the fallen timber itself. It’s an added bonus if it has no bark, since sometimes little bits of bark get stuck to one’s thighs and asscheeks in the process.I always check my perimeter for other humans or wildlife before dropping trow and grabbing some toilet paper from my shit kit (which contains enough toilet paper to last the hitch, a lighter for burning the tp and some hand sanitizer) and letting nature take over. I typically have a little bit of open air hesitation since I prefer to do my business in close quarters (I might be the one person in the universe who avoids handicap stalls). But once it’s all said and done, I look down and survey my work, then try to burn up the toilet paper and move some dirt over it with a stick. Sanitize hands. Try to find my way back with a heightened sense of relief and harmony with nature.

Postcard 9:  The Woodland Toilet

A good shit in the woods can be a transcendental experience if done right. One of my buddy’s crew leaders says there are 5 stars of shitting in the woods—wildlife spotting, you see someone who doesn’t see you, a good view, something to wipe with, and something to sit on/lean against—and you can assess your activity by how many of the star criteria you meet. However, a good poop in nature can be much simpler, and sometimes you don’t even need something to lean against.

As a sufferer of Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) for several years the status of my poop is a constant concern of mine, and a good movement can have a significant impact on my day—even more so, it is a genuinely rare treat to take a good, solid shit (as I am prone to suffering from months of loose stools or constipation). So woodland pooping wasn’t necessarily something I was initially eager to try unless absolutely forced by raging bowels.

On my most recent hitch out around Swan Lake, Montana I ventured into the woods many times to clear out my intestines. On Monday I released a sizeable turd that moved smoothly as I squatted and hovered my ass over a little hole i dug out with a stick. However, it wasn’t until the second day of work that I feel like I hit my stride. It was then that I devised the log-squat method of the outdoor toilet arts. Finding the right log to squat over is a bit of a trick. Chiefly, it must be at least 200 feet away from any water source and since we worked around a few creeks over the last week, this proved tricky. Also, finding a place to easily walk down and back up and find the trail is another large problem I have—I often get lost on my return—since I like to be well out of sight to any potential eyes. But finding the right fallen tree is the true test—ideally the tree should be 18-30 inches off the ground, have no pig ears (pokey stubs where branches once were) and be thick enough to hold your weight, but not too thick as one should not shit on the fallen timber itself. It’s an added bonus if it has no bark, since sometimes little bits of bark get stuck to one’s thighs and asscheeks in the process.

I always check my perimeter for other humans or wildlife before dropping trow and grabbing some toilet paper from my shit kit (which contains enough toilet paper to last the hitch, a lighter for burning the tp and some hand sanitizer) and letting nature take over. I typically have a little bit of open air hesitation since I prefer to do my business in close quarters (I might be the one person in the universe who avoids handicap stalls). But once it’s all said and done, I look down and survey my work, then try to burn up the toilet paper and move some dirt over it with a stick. Sanitize hands. Try to find my way back with a heightened sense of relief and harmony with nature.

Posted 1 year ago & Filed under montana, pooping, the woods, log-squat, 3 notes View high resolution

Notes:

  1. msmontanawildhack posted this

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Ms. Wildhack takes on the terrain of Northwest Montana for five months working on a conservation crew. These are her dispatches.