In the summer of my twenty-third year, I pooped my pants in Sunshine Canyon, Colorado. Eight years later, I can take you to the exact spot it happened, to the exact place I buried my underwear in shame.
A few years ago, my friend Paul and I were hiking to climb at the Obed and discussing the lyrics of Ice Cube’s “Good Day” when somewhere along the way the discussion turned to pooping your pants. I recounted my experience in Colorado: my first real cross-country climbing trip with my friend Kyle. He was a vegan and I was not but to keep our budget reasonable we shared his diet for a few weeks. Of course, if you’ve ever made the transition to a totally plant-based diet you know that your bowels will take some adjusting. Mine did exactly that one evening after a very bean-y dinner. I reared back (as one does) and forced out what was supposed to be a hilarious fart. Except, it was more. It was a lot more. And I waddled off into the dark and dug a shallow grave for my underpants.Most people think of pooping your pants as a bimodal probability across one’s lifespan, as an inverse bell curve: babies poop their pants and old people poop their pants. But, according to Paul, pooping your pants is a multimodal probability — not just for infants and the elderly.
There must be some account for people who spend a lot of time in the woods. It would appear that another “peak” or “local maxima” should be added to our graph for the potty-trained aged outdoor folks who, for one reason or another, have their own muddy butt stories. Whether the inability to dig a hole fast enough, a beany vegan diet, or giardia, take it from professional rock climber Jason Kruk who reminded all of us about the statistical probability of pooping your pants when he said, “It’s just an odds thing, really.”Here are some stories shared by friends, whose names have been redacted or changed (to characters from Gilligan's Island), where the odds were definitely not in their favor. They are posted here in solidarity with all those with similar stories, for educational purposes and, of course, a good laugh. You may notice a recurring theme of burying one's underwear in the woods. This is not LNT and should be avoided at all costs. Learn from us.
On Giardia or "Beaver Fever"
“Summit day, the first week of July. Two weeks prior, I’d come down from the summit with an inner-city group from Houston and three kids had run out of water so I gave them all of mine. I grabbed Ginger’s water bottle and started chugging before she told me that she had not purified it yet.
Two weeks to the day, I felt it stirring and had 10 seconds before I had to go. I went 55 times in 10 days and lost 14 pounds.
By the end of it, I got so sick of water and crackers, that I chugged a Coke. It shot through my system in 35 seconds and came out carbonated. In my pants. Still smelled like Coke.”
On Our First Backpacking Trip
"The most memorable was with you. The first time we used my water filter, we had forgotten to flush it out before using it. The first bottle was filled with purple water, black specks, and being young and dumb, I drank it. Since the system was now "flushed," your bottle was just fine. But I had to cut my man panties off and bury them in the woods. Then I stuffed my extra underwear in my pants to soak up the diarrhea that kept leaking out my butt while we hiked. Thanks for the memories!”
The Text Message that Inspired this Post
"Me and Mary Ann went on a breakfast date this morning and stopped at the skateboard park. I skated around it once and destroyed my pants. Like an explosion of diarrhea in my jeans. I had to strip naked in a parking lot and just throw my underwear away."
On Inadequate Wiping Opportunities
“Well not as much 'pooped the pants' but I had diarrhea at the top of the big hill at Radnor. I barely made it off the side of the trail and I dropped trousers just in time. But there was nothing good to wipe with. So I had muddy butt the rest of the hike back to my truck.”
On IBS and Possible Divine Judgment
The following comes from a phone conversation with my friend Gilligan: “You know I have more poop in your pants stories than you could ever handle. If you ever write a second edition and it’s not in the woods, I have some amazing stories but I did poop my pants in the woods hardcore once…”
“I can’t remember what mountain I was guiding but I was with The Professor and Mr. Howell. I left them with the kids at high camp, I snuck out and hiked to the truck and drove into Buena Vista, which we're not supposed to do, and I go to K's Dairy Delite and get hamburgers and milkshakes..."
“I have IBS, I don’t know if you know this but I’m lactose intolerant and have irritable bowel syndrome and a spastic colon so that’s a good detail. And of course, I load up on ice cream and cheeseburgers and the whole deal...”
“So I’m trying to be sneaky and I’m hiking back off trail and I remember my daypack is full of burgers and I’m in the middle of nowhere, like this big field with tall grass and nothing else and I had to fart, so I just let it out and I diarrhea’d everywhere.”
"I’m in the middle of nowhere: no leaves, no toilet paper, no wipes, nothing. I wiped with clumps of grass — think about that — and then sacrificed my t-shirt. And I just left it. It was destroyed and I littered. It was not good... For me, it's the textures: my hairy legs, the runny poop, my merino socks, the clumps of grass, and the smell of burgers. I returned to high camp shirtless and covered in poop and nobody ate the burgers."
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Somebody has to start the round of comments. As an outdoor man for decades I have had my share of awkward and embarrassing toilet experiences out there, so why should not it be me taking the first step here. Luckily pooping the pants has not been a frequent phenomenon. I can remember only once. It was on a boat ride on the Nile. No toilet on board the tiny sailing vessel. Everything had to be done somewhere in nature when staying ashore. For about one hour I had felt an increasing urge to open my bowels. I had managed to hide my farthing, but when we took a break at the shore I just had to run away to find a place to take care of business. But when running I obviously did not manage to keep the sphincter muscle down there shut. Behind a bush I dropped my shorts and let loose. Then I realized that I had forgotten to bring some toilet paper. I also realized that my underwear was stained by a tiny brown mass after my farthing. The obvious solution was to wipe with my undies and leave them under the roots of the bush. I did not have time to get embarrassed about the situation, and I soon realized that it would neither be necessary. Most of us on the boat were hit by a bug. When back at the boat my wife asked me to act as a guard when she did her duty. She had also been caught of a sudden urge. Later we found out that the whole group had become infected with Bacillus cereus, probably from the breakfast at the hotel. This day and the next day this bug ravaged the group. The week to follow we all luckily were able to laugh at it. Nobody got really sick but everyone experienced the diarrhea. The proper British lady with her white bottom, the decent Dutch couple with their tan lines, the young American globetrotter with her chubby bum unsuccessfully trying to hide out there will be my memories from this trip.
ReplyDeletea stomach bug in the wild is a horrendous and unforgettable few days.
Deletecheers!
Hiking in the mountains with my wife and her sister. For about one hour I had felt an increasing urge to opening my bowels. Gradually I realized that I would not be able to reach a toilet in due time. I would not introduce my sister in law to my needs. Therefore I told the two of them to continue when I took some pictures. I quickly went behind some bushes, pulled down and squatted. But I had not done a sufficient site research. I was not aware of the switchback. When just about to finish the paperwork I heard my wife and her sister shouting from behind. Turning around I saw them laughing and waving. Extremely embarrassing then, but now just a good story.
DeleteI think many of us have stories to tell from felucca boat rides on the Nile. I went there back in the 1980s when I was around 20 years old. That was before the felucca "cruises" were well organized. We had no support boat with a toilet. We peed while swimming. Pooping was supposed to be done ashore in the bushes.
DeleteOne morning I woke up feeling somewhat uncomfortable in my stomach. I went ashore to try to poop as I had not done that for three days. However, I did not succeed, probably because I was a bit stressed by the risk that some of the others could come by.
But then, just before lunch, I really was hit by a strong urge while still on the boat. I had to really try hard to avoid spoiling my bikini. Luckily we were just about docking ashore when I understood that it could not be postponed any more. I grabbed some paper napkins and jumped ashore and ran for the bushes, of which there luckily were many. Bikini down, before coming into the squat position the process could no longer be hindered. Within seconds my bowels had like a cannon shot out many hard balls and a long snake, much longer than any I have ever delivered from me in later life.
As I sighed with relief, one of the boys came running past. His gaze was fixed rigidly ahead. No doubt he saw me squatting with my white thighs and bottom. But it was clear that he had a more important mission than looking at me. Behind the next bush he obviously had no chance. He positioned himself so that he could not see me. However, he probably did not think that the further behind the bush he retreated, the more he exposed his bottom to me. While I did the necessary paperwork before I could withdraw, I therefore became an involuntary spectator (and listener) of his bodily processes taking their course.
I can't remember what I was thinking in the situation. I was probably solely focused on coming away as quickly as possible because I perceived it as a very embarrassing situation for both of us. During that lunch break I think we both tried to avoid coming in contact, but the lasting two days of the felucca ride we behaved like nothing had happened!
So what did I learn from this? It pays to ensure that normal bodily functions are maintained, even under extraordinary conditions. Sooner or later it will come, even for nice girls and brave boys. For a city girl like me, that meant I had to learn how to poop in the open. It is better to have it done under full control than to be forced to improvise in a matter of seconds. An important lesson that has come in handy countless times over the forty years that have passed since then.
But even a mature woman with a long and varied life experience occasionally finds herself in unexpected situations, at least when one chooses to live an active life. As for example this summer when I was on a beach in Portugal. I understood that it would take too long to drive back to the hotel. I therefore chose to make a controlled and fairly private relief in the dense bushes around the car park. My friend took the chance to drive home. This was not a success. Halfway through we had to stop. The need became urgent. She tried to hide her bottom between some low bushes down the slope. But the German youngsters who had stopped a little further away had something to laugh about.
No one can doubt that it is the multimodal model at the top of the article that applies. Experience speaks for itself.
Not really an emergency, more like a question of lacking situational awareness and being in a hurry. Wife and I was camping up in the mountains. At morning coffee I got a huge urge to get things done. (After a couple of days with constipation.) Took the roll of toilet paper and rushed away to find a suitable place to squat. At a huge boulder I fulfilled my duty, no time to make a proper hole, pulling down, squatting and letting loose. Obviously the perfect spot because there was another fresh load delivered there. Returning to the tent I met a laughing wife. She made me aware of another tent up the hillside just behind my chosen boulder, where another biker was camping. I cannot really understand why I had not noticed it myself, especially as there were clear signs of others being around! I still flush of embarrassment when thinking back, still praying that the she was able to excuse my indecent exposure.
ReplyDeleteOut there in the wilderness everybody knows that there is no door to lock, so why bother. Doing what nature requires is not indecent when sensible care has been taken.
DeleteI was taking part in a pilgrim walk for several weeks. One day I felt that my stomach had become somewhat "uneasy" but I was not able to open my bowels in the early morning. When walking I was experiencing heavy flatulence and therefore I lagged somewhat behind the others. But suddenly when letting out some air, it was more than air that came and filled my underwear. I looked around to tell my wife that I had to make a break and change underwear but I could not find her. I went down a slope to a small creek. Behind some bushes I changed clothes and washed my bum and also my undies. Just in this process my wife appeared. She immediately understood what had happened and could tell that she also had been suffering of a sudden urge and had to rush into the bushes. She had succeeded to squat and unload on the ground without spoiling her clothes. She also told that on her way down to the creek to wash her hands she had passed another hiker squatting with the shorts at his knees. On our way back to the trail we spotted a woman squatting obviously relieving herself the primitive way. When joining the others, my sister in law could tell that she also had been forced to rush into the bushes and let nature take its course. During the rest of the day all three of us had to visit the bushes a couple more times. Along the trail we even spotted some other trying to hide their white buttocks behind a bush. In the evening it was all ok again. When mentioning it to others in the group we got to know that at least ten others also had been suddenly forced to answer the call of nature along the trail this day. Obviously we had collectively become struck by a stomach bug.
ReplyDeleteThis story reminds me on own experiences. Some years back a group from my congregation went for a pilgrim hike. Many of us probably underestimated that we also should experience bodily challenges when we were highly focused on spiritual matters. It was never discussed, but I guess that most of us experienced some quite embarrassing moments along the trail. Often there was no other option than finding some shelter behind a bush when the urge came up.
DeleteNever underestimate the probability for needing to take a dump even during a pilgrim hike! Bodily functions are not fully satisfied just by spiritual care. Even the most decent and proud pilgrim occasionally may need to rush behind the blackberry bushes, lower the pants, and (yes, really) squat exposing the bare bottom to Mother Nature (and sometimes even to some fellow hikers). Many of us have experienced to get caught (oh, so embarrassing when it is the young, female volunteer showing up), most of us have observed white skin among the branches (not a very pleasant moment for a mature man walking in on one of the friends, I can say), but (almost) nobody speaks about it. It is just "taboo". We all do it, deny it and suppress the discussion.
DeleteMy small summer cottage is located near a popular trail for pilgrims. During summer, specially between 0830 and 1130 am, many hikers are passing and often taking a (breakfast/lunch)break in this scenic area.
DeletePoor people, what shall they do? They will not find a toilet for the next 10 kilometers. Between the trail and my cabin there is an area with dense blackberry bushes, too dense to enter, still it hinders insight from the path. But not from my property.
Otherwise decent people lower their pants, squats and .... (yes). It is too far from my cabin to be really bothering or annoying. It just reminds me that peeing an pooping is as normal as drinking and eating. Old and young, male or female (even nuns!), no difference.
Such stories about others certainly are more amusing than those regarding oneself. Here therefore a story about my husband. We were driving by car in the country side of Turkey. Out there, miles away from the civilization, my husband got a strong and immediate urge to take a dump. We checked the map and found that it would be at least 30-50 minutes till the next village. Thus, I suggested that he could take some paper napkins and get it done behind some roadside bushes. Even though he is quite shy about such issues, he also found it to be an acceptable solution in an emergency. He rushed away and disappeared behind some bushes at some distance from the road. Just as he got out of sight for me, I spotted a woman carrying a basked with vegetables turning up from behind a hill walking in the direction of the bushes. I was totally out of position to warn my husband. When coming back to the car, he told that he had been walked straight in on by this woman. She obviously had become quite surprised but had set up a huge smile and had said something like ratla, samet etme, which we later found out meant something like just relax, don't bother. I am not so shy about such things and therefore I also went over there to do my duty. Then I could see that my husband obviously had been in such a hurry that he had not recognized a very visible path quite close to where he had deposited his waste.
ReplyDeleteOne week in the wilderness in Kyrgyzstan learned me to meet every kind of toilet challenges with a smile. We were far away from any toilet for 8 days and 7 nights. Peeing or pooping, no matter, it all had to be done somewhere in nature. Perhaps it sounds quite simple. Just walk away and hide behind a bush. But when there are no bushes, not even a boulder? Walk sufficiently far away? Easy to say, but when the bowels require immediate opening the distance requirement has to be challenged. Our group consisted of over 20 persons. In addition several places where we camped other groups also were around. After just a few days I had to accept that going to toilet not any more was a private issue. At every break, every morning, every night we were confronted with the natural needs of not only ourselves, but also our friends. The English teacher, the Dutch nurse, the German lawyer, everybody, at some (or rather several) point(s) of time trousers had to be pulled down and the classical squat to be entered. Nobody talked about it. We just did it. It was how it had to be.
ReplyDeleteLast summer camping in the huge woods of Sweden. I had been constipated for a couple of days, but early one morning I realized that time had come, a lot of farthing and a feeling of a possibly liquid poop. Everyone else still at sleep, I went up, grabbed the toilet paper and ran between the tents into the vast forest. Behind a huge stone, trousers down, into squat position and letting loose a mixture of bad smelling liquid stuff and harder lumps. Just as I was about to finish I heard some branches breaking. All of a sudden a young woman stood just in front of me. Obviously a bit surprised, but smiling, she said something in Swedish that I did not understand (but later I got it translated to: "Don't bother. Take your time") before she disappeared just as fast as she came. Luckily she was not from our group but from a group of scouts camping a bit away from us which I had not been aware of. During the day to follow my daughter came in contact with the scouts and brought some of them to our camp, and among them the girl from the morning incident! She obviously recognized me but was polite enough not to make any references to our morning encounter.
ReplyDeleteMany incidents could be mentioned. Biking in the countryside of Crete, I had stopped for a cup of coffee at a small taverna, with intentions also to use the toilet because I felt the daily urge was building up inside me. I asked for the toilet and was shown to a small room behind the kitchen. But there was a sign telling that the toilet only was intended for urine! I went back to the waitress and tried to explain what my real needs were. She did not understand English, but she soon understood the challenge. She said sorry, sorry and signalized with her hands that I would have to go to the bushes behind the taverna. The coffee had strengthened the urge, and I really had no choice. I headed, more exactly ran, for the bushes. Shorts down, squatting and out it came. Then I realized that I didn't have toilet paper. In just that moment the waitress showed up. Smiling she gave me a roll of toilet paper. I was still squatting with my bum bare. Fundamentally an embarrassing situation, but I was so lucky for the paper that I couldn't avoid smiling. Back at the taverna both of us were smiling. I think she understood that I appreciated her quite "extraordinary" service. I ordered another coffee. Just before I left a Dutch couple arrived. I understood that she had the same challenge as me, but she were given the roll of toilet paper before she went off for the bushes. She seemed a bit upset about the situation, but when I was biking away I saw also she squatting in the bushes exposing her white bum to the nature.
ReplyDeleteThis story gave me a flash back to 2018. Summer vacation on Peloponnese with husband, children and grandchildren. I had gone for a morning bike ride alone in the country side. When out there, >10 km from the nearest village, my guts signalized that they needed to be emptied. The urge increased steeply and I understood that it was not possible to reach an ordinary toilet in due time.
DeleteAs a girl scout I had learnt how to poop outdoor. Now, over fifty years later, this practical knowledge and former experience should show to be very useful! Behind some dense bushes I found a suitable spot. Looking carefully around, nobody else observed, shorts down. No time to dig a hole. The waste had to be deposited onto the ground. Natural fertilizer for the bushes, circular economy - a weird thought through my brain! Extremely embarrassing situation, quite unusual for a decent retired teacher. Nudity no problem, but being spotted squatting with shorts at the knees. Oh no, I don't want anyone to get that image of me on their retina. I flush just by thinking of it.
No paper, I had to wipe with a bunch of dry grass. Not an ideal solution, but it worked! It was all done i 1-2 minutes. Back on the road feeling like it never had happened, just a nice feeling of comfort after almost a week with constipation. I biked down to a nearby beach and took a bath and everything was normalized again.
This is perhaps the place to tell about one of my least proud moments, as pure psychotherapy to myself. I have tried to suppress it for five years now, and I have never mentioned it to a single human being. Still, I blush every time I think about it. I was on a camping trip with friends in the Norwegian mountains. It was a completely ordinary morning. The daily need appeared after breakfast. I put some paper towels in my pocket and sneaked away from the others. It's not something you talk about much, not even among friends. There were many of us together so I chose to walk quite far away from the tents. I saw some dense bushes that I thought would be suitable for what I was going to do. Trousers quickly down and squatting. As the cable was coming out, I heard some faint noises behind me. I quickly turned around and had my immediate fears confirmed. I looked straight into the distressed face of an unknown girl who was about to pull up her pants. Neither of us said anything. She disappeared before I could make up my mind. I felt embarrassed, indecent, rude, all sorts of negative emotions came to me. Certainly not a spy, because I saw that she had also left behind what has to come out of the body every day. I wonder what she was thinking when I came and sat down to poop right in front of her. It later turned out that she was with a group of Russian youths who had pitched their tents just behind a hill not far from us. She had probably thought the same strategy as me, go far away from own friends for such serious matters, without thinking that it could mean getting close to someone else! I really hope she didn't take it badly. Maybe she was a bit more bold than me and could laugh about it and tell it to her friends as a funny story? In any case, at least we were both confirmed in a concrete way that neither naughty boys nor sweet girls escape having to respond to nature's demands. "Shit happens".
ReplyDelete