Know your Shit
![[Print This Post]](http://www.rantlust.com/wp-content/plugins/wp-print/images/print.gif "[Print This Post]")
As a rat race victim, I often take solace in the mountains during weekend outings. Backpacking is one of my favorite activities… often with fellow rantlusters. Most of these outings are the two-day one-night variety. We normally head out early morning on Saturday to Tahoe’s amazing Desolation Wilderness and head back Sunday night. Our last stop in civilization is the Lake Tahoe ranger station where we pick up our permits. The ranger station has well-maintained restrooms among other things. So it’s often here that we conduct our proper morning rituals before heading out into the wilderness. For the next 36 hours or so, I try my best not to go for the big one in the woods. This is what Kathleen Meyer defines as “avoidance constipation.”
If words such as shyte, turd, crap, piss, leak, dump, defecation, stools, scats, dung, chips, pellets, number one, number two, tinkle, poop, poo-poo, doo-doo, load, excrement, etc., fill you with disgust, then read no further for what follows is some serious shit.
Coming up with a name for a book is one of the most difficult tasks of an author especially if this is your first book. I am sure Kathleen Meyer spent considerable time figuring out the title of her book but it’s hard not to be impressed by the title she finally chose: “How to Shit in the Woods.” This is a book that I predict that will go down in history as one of the greatest outdoor books ever written. Meyer fills about 100 pages with priceless information about shitting and pissing in the outdoors. The book goes into great deal about the environmental impact of relieving oneself, history of shitting, the proper way to dig a hole, anatomy of a dump, poop packing, group shitting, and there’s even a separate chapter for women where Meyer gives advice on how not to pee on your boots. In the chapter for women, Meyer also explains how to engineer an environmental approach to menstruation.
The subject matter is not for the squeamish but Meyer does a brilliant job in making this a highly entertaining read. She is irreverently funny and fills the book with anecdotes and quotes that can while away time spent on future backpacking trips. This book is best read in a couple of morning sessions in the potty. Meyer is a former “river rat” — a person who guided people down whitewater rapids. Because of this, she has first-hand experience on the subject matter, especially in large group situations. I believe I do too but this is not something I have given such serious thought until I read this book. It was first published in 1989 and has now been adopted by outdoor enthusiasts everywhere as the authoritative guide on shitting in the wild.
Highlights from the book:
- The inventor of modern flush-type toilets is a British plumber named T. J. Crapper. (Contrary to popular belief, the word “crap” was not derived from his name.)
- Forever dangling darlings: Meyer’s description of men’s balls. She urges caution when doing the deed so that these darlings do not come into contact with the poop container contents.
- Average poop rate for humans depends on age, size, sex, diet, gender, race, continent of residence, and personality (!). Three to twenty one times per week is considered average.
- Not surprisingly, men shit more than women.
- A typical stool in India weighs three times more than that in the US or UK. The average weight is half a pound in the US. In Uganda it’s five times heavier. (Imagine if you will, Idi Amin’s crap… what with all the other humans he ate.)
- More on personality and shitting: people with high self-esteem produce some heavy shit.
- The book goes into great detail about washable, re-usable carry-out systems. Among them are the fabulously named Magic Groover (seatless ammo can leaving furrows in your bum), The Baño (molded plastic holding tank with aluminum handles), the Jon-ny Partner (considered the “Cadillac of portable toilets” because of its bomb-proof construction), the D-Can (retrofitted WWII ammo cans) and of course the familiar Porta Potti.
- A poem by Shirley Vogler Meister is quoted while warning us to use caution when digging a hole:
Though city-bred, he learned to camp
and loved to trek in dew and damp
until a creeping critter found
him crouching with his denims down. - Explains the proper way to dig a hole and bury your shit so that it decomposes fast and does not contaminate waterways. Giardiasis, a disease caused by drinking untreated water, is primarily due to fecal matter seeping into the water we drink. This disease was apparently unknown in the US before the 70s. People could actually drink from streams and lakes before then.
- Towards the end, there is a three page lexicon for shit. The OED should take notice. Not only are the word and its synonyms defined but also phrases and axioms (stay out of my shit; piece of shit; shit out of luck; up shit creek; shit on a brick). Some derivative words are also defined here (shit-brain; shit-bird; shit-fire).
- Meyer wishes for a “trekkie phaser gun” to alter the molecular structure of the human turd so that people don’t have to go to such extreme lengths when in the wild. Captain Kirk would approve.
- People who need to pack out their poop are rock climbers, Himalayan trekkers, sea kayakers, snow hikers, etc. Rock climbers are notorious for just letting it go from up above without regard to those below.
O.K., I hope I have persuaded you enough to check out this effervescent book on a subject so close to our hearts… er… bums.
Your post today made me laugh. Shitting in the woods is never fun, but oftentimes necessary. Most important rule of backpacking: remember toilet paper! (And remember to carry it out, too)
Aw … this ain’t nothing. Pooping in the wild outdoors is a piece of cake compared to having to do it while travelling in India. Kerala is relatively better, public restrooms at bus stations, etc are marginally bearable. But great are the lengths I would go to avoid this, even in Kerala.
Which brings me to life outside Kerala. During our South India tour in college, we got stuck in Jolarpetta Railway station, Tamil Nadu, because we had missed our train to Bangalore. The next train was only due in a few hours and woe is me I just had to shit. Avoidance constipation was not going to work and I bravely marched to the restroom. There was a guy there, presumably maintaining the restroom and he demanded 50 paise. Whatever - if there is a guy maintaining the restroom, it had to be usable, no? He handed me a bucket of water and a pail.
Behind the wall were ’stalls’. Wooden boards barely hanging onto their frames. Hiding the horror a few inches behind them. I pulled aside a board and the sight was almost enough for me to shit my pants. I ran back out, but the guy patted me on my back and led me back to the stall (perhaps he was used to this reaction and part of his job description was to give courage to the faint of heart).
Like a lamb to the slaughter, I dragged myself back to hell on earth. Behind the boards was an open conduit made of cement running along the ground. It was about 20 feet long, 6-8 inches deep and the opening was about 5 inches wide. From one end to the other, it was filled with shit. If it was meant for simultaneous usage, there was no privacy once you were behind the boards.
I quickly hunted for a spot with relatively lesser amounts of shit. I had to get this thing over with quick, before anyone else decided they wanted to share the stall with me. I carefully straddled the conduit. Thankfully, my bowels didn’t shut up and co-operated with me. The obscene task was done, and to this day I remain emotionally scarred.
Last year,before entering the park where Fitz Roy and Cerro Torre are, we had to listen to a lecture from a park ranger who used to work in the US, he said the same thing, you can still drink from the streams there. He told us to carry our shit out.
Some years ago, walking around Bangalore, I couldn’t find a public toilet in time, and I ended up half shitting while walking. Thankfully it was confined to my underwear, which I left in the garbage, or maybe threw somewhere outside the toilet.
Please people don’t be shy. Share your shit stories with us. The Asian style squatting toilets in India are actually preferable to the western style because I shudder to imagine how filthy the toilet seats would be. Sometimes in trains, there is a choice between the two and on the rare occasion I’ve been forced to use the toilet, I never bothered with the western ones.
I don’t know if it is still the case, but the toilets essentially open out to the tracks. Hopefully the train is moving fast enough to vaporize all excretory material. Not exactly appealing to the people sitting with their windows open further behind in the train or the daring ones sitting on the footboards. I used to be in the latter category until I discovered the advanced toilet mechanics.
A friend once used the train toilet and to his dismay, he found out there was no running water after he was done. He proceeded to use his underwear to clean himself and chucked it out of the window. To add insult to injury, it got stuck in the window grills, and he gingerly prodded it out. I wonder if it landed on anyone’s face at the end of it all.
Meyer also devotes a chapter to what to do when there is no T.P. As some of the above comments attest, all of us have faced with situations where T.P. was not an option. In the wild, Meyer recommends dead leaves (make sure it’s not poison ivy/oak/sumac or prickly), water, and snowballs. The latter she says, might be temporarily traumatic but is effective as are dry sun baked stones (after testing it for hotness with your hands of course) in desert climes. Our ancestors who didn’t need to worry about wiping their asses probably had thick skin and produced droppings more of a solid consistency. Meyer mentions a certain Dr Charles Helm who advocates a meatless, high fiber diet similar to that of horses so that we can shit solid apple like pieces. No wiping needed.
Agreed. In fact why just restrict it to India? Even in the US, I would rather poop outdoors with the constant threat of a rattler or a bear cub creeping up behind me than in some of the dinghy restrooms of the gas stations. The breeze is nice, the view heavenly, and you can probably even conduct a good conversation with those within earshot. I have avoidance constipation only because the restrooms of the ranger stations are normally well-maintained. I also get avoidance constipation during long trans-continental flights.
This is true in China as well. But there, the man or lady sitting in front of the restrooms would hand you a 1″ X 1″ square T.P. when you pay the dough.
Unfortunately, this is true for group potties for the outdoors as well. Often trenches are dug (the length is determined by the number of people in the party, length of stay and a rough estimate of the poop rate in the party) and people shit from one end to the other (not together necessarily). But unlike the shit holes of Jolarpetta, here we pile the soil dug up on the side of the trench. You then instruct the shitters to do their deed, cover their deposits with the soil, stir well, and tramp down. You carry your T.P. out with you.
This is common in a lot of heavy-use wilderness areas in the US as well. The Mount Fitzroy area (in Argentinian Patagonia for those who don’t know) would qualify as a heavy-use area. Last year down in Mt Whitney, we were given poop packets — basically an opaque ziploc type bag filled with cat litter.
This is what Oscar winner Philip Seymour Hoffman calls sharting which should be in the vernacular if not already.
What happens when you get the shits in the woods? Does Ms. Meyer talk about that? Hilarious topic.
On my only trip to Lake Tahoe (with anupcs) my rhythm synched only when we reached the trail head. The loos up there opened into a deep valley and there was a strong upward draft into the loo. I used the “floating” technique to not make contact with the toilet seat but that let in more air through the narrow gap and it wasn’t exactly the time I wanted to contemplate the Venturi effect of my awkward posture. At first the whistling gust on my backside was disconcerting but then I started to relax and enjoy the cool wind up my…
We had these 72 hour train journeys where most of our time was spent eating (Kinnum may remember some of these we did together). The consequences of eating 3 course meals on the train are obvious. One of my frequent traveling partners always tried “avoidance” but was occasionally unsuccessful. I could never bear the look on his face when realisation followed by desperation set in.
One particularly bad 2-day journey, I had the looseys and was rushing to the bogs every hour. My fellow passengers out of sympathy, deference, or disgust kept that loo free for me. Tafkap, the western loos (one of the four loos on every bogey) are good for taking a leak as the pan on the Indian loos will splatter all over your shoes if you miss the hole.
On a recent trip I had to use an Indian toilet and was quite surprised by the quantity, which is not easy to estimate in a western toilet. I was thinking the Japanese, who are nuts about toilet inventions (see links below), should devise a toilet which can weigh your produce and keep track of it.
I’m sure a trend analysis would throw up some interesting observations. As they say, you can’t control what you can’t measure.
Kinnum, the loo situation in Bangalore is much improved. Infosys and the government have set up pay use loos which are reasonably clean. Apart from that I have a mental map of all the good loos in each locality. This is must information when you have small kids. They find the most awkward places and situations to want to go “potty”.
During my one-year stay in Bombay, I learnt to use the loo when it was available and not when I had to go. Quite useful when you’re never sure where the next possible loo is. Even after I left Bombay and moved to a college campus where one is never far from a loo, my bladder was conditioned to start screaming every time I passed a loo.
I think some academic research should be done on how in emergency situations, the pressure on the bowels increases in inverse proportion to the distance from the nearest available toilet. As the distance approaches zero, the pressure approaches infinity. They can call it “Crapper’s Law” in memory of his significant contribution to modern society.
Wikipedia on Japanese toilets
Picture of a traditional Japanese toilet. Seems to be the reverse of the Indian variety.
Funny movie on how to use a Japanese toilet. Same as the Indian toilet except that you sit in reverse and use toilet paper.
Wow, a whole hearty discussion about shit….couldn’t resist. Movie theatres? another one which is a dangerous one, especially if you are in the middle of a serious horror movie……u run down to the bathroom and guess what? son of dracula is waiting on the floor.
Hey, let me ask you experienced people a technique I have used successfully in the past…..when I was young and was on a long bus trip or found that there was no way in hell you could get to a rest room….I used to try and suck in air to relieve the temptation of having to go. It delayed the inevitable most times.
Would love to continue, but, I have to go….no really leave the house.
She mentions it in passing and refers to it as “Trekker’s trots.” Not much you can do really, when the levees break. And T.P. is more desirable than snowballs, stones, or dried leaves in this situation.
Interesting. I just can’t condition my reflexes this way. I need my morning coffee to wind its way down the digestive system before generating the “knock.”
Splendidly shitty post. You guys really take this shit seriously.
So continuing on……there are many types of toilets…..some that are very clean…generally in ur home, then there are some that are clean but with some blemishes…u get my hint…..then there are some that are not clean….like a mine field…..and then there are some that are unmanaged and unusable….but sometimes is the ONLY option in town. Fellow blogger Papi may remember from his days in Kendriya Vidyalaya…..man we had a boyz room which could not be used…it was dark as a result of no ventilation, shit was plentiful, the stench unbearable yet….that was the only choice. I am trying to think as to what every kid did when they had to take care of business….anyway it’s fascinating this inquiry into shit. Good, solid, strong post fellow blogger Anup!
I have to relate yet another shit story here. Two years ago, when I lived in Beijing, I used to frequent this underground bar near the apartment. This bar had a restroom in a staircase landing. I am not sure if it was fellow blogger kinnum or someone else who went to take a leak, waited outside for eternity, saw two girls walk out, and then went in and to his horror found that there was a neat pile of shit in the toilet. What baffles me is how they went about shitting inside the restroom? One at a time? Back-to-back? One of life’s great mysteries…
Needless to say many more pegs of whiskey were consumed after he came back to the table.
Maybe you were too drunk at the time, but that one would appear to have a simple explanation. The girls were doing something else exciting in the toilet - but not shitting. The shit was left behind by anupcs in a prior visit and he did not want to admit that he didn’t flush.
Yes, that was me. I had to wait a while outside, was surprised but not that much to see the two girls walk out, but was very surprised to see the shit, as Anup, describes, in a neat pile. I don’t think they were shitting, they were probably making out, the only thing is why and how people can make out in the presence of shit, unless they’re into that kind of shit.
This post is so full of shit that I am forced to change my browsing habits for rantlust. Snacking or having a cocktail while browsing will be harmful for my health going forward. I almost choked on the Vodka. Sheesh!
Thank you for the visual. It’s all clear and shit. Well done.
Women often go into bathrooms together especially in crowded places like bars and nightclubs. And it’s not just to make out. One can take a piss while the other touches up her make-up or loosens the blouse for the stud waiting for her in the bar. We don’t have the hang-ups you guys have. But shitting is not something I myself would do with others present.
Hah! Guys are anatomically capable of taking simultaneous pisses. None of this girlie I’ll powder my nose while you take a piss.
Yes as you will remember well how we demonstrated this at an NYC party once and you left the bathroom in sheer awe of my sword.
Ok this is crappiest posting on rantlust yet.
How do they test these things ? and most importantly who ?
Fellowblogger anupcs, your commitment, passion and blogs to the world of shit and fart is truly amazing. It is but only once in a lifetime that such a man walks amongst us. It goes without saying that we show our respect by holding our nose while you pass.
At the end of a days work, I read your blog……
Not only was the blog a hilarous read, the comments were so funny they made me pee in my pants! I like the word ’sharted’… I’m going to use that for the times you want to fart, but some shit creeps out…. As a medico, I think it would be important to share another term ‘Scatology’ : The study of fecal matter…. So everyone who commented, you are on your way to a PhD in Scatology. Congratulations! You’re full of shit
Time for some acknowledgement…
Thanks though, frankly my dears, I don’t give a shit.
When I was at the Zhengzhou airport in China apparently one of the regular necessities available even at gift counters is individual rolls of toilet paper. It was a far cry from “paper” however, “cardboard” , or “particleboard” is more like it. Upon my entire trip through central China, I was fortunate enough to have experienced only western toilets.
In Bali one time I was at a temple and about to enjoy one of the famous Balinese gamalan performances, when I had the hour before tried some of the local cuisine. Just several minutes into it and I could not one minute longer postpone the mounting pressure for fear an explosion that would claim innocent lives. As experienced shitters, I think we can all confess the relief of finally getting it over with even in the scariest of bathrooms or trenches, for that immediate instant must be akin to full enlightenment. I was thankful that I at least had a private stall, even though the doors don’t lock. I wasn’t quite sure if you’re supposed to lean your back against the wall of this hole, or if you just squat, but this particular situation was going to require extensive wipage. It wasn’t too bad because I could still enjoy the wonderful echos from the stage, once the worst of it was over I took my time to make very conservative use of a few napkins I had pocketed. It was strange altogether - wiping material quickly diminishing, but, I am also enjoying a very exotic outdoor musical performance from just behind me, while simultaneously I am sweating bullets from having to maintain a horse stance for about 10-12 minutes. I guess of the many things you experience in life, dirtying your shorts on a trip to a foreign place isn’t what you’ll share with family and friends, but it’s funny the memories that stick with you. I guess it’s the trauma.
Let’s start an entirely new blog site called iShit.
[...] Not even having read the tome on shit and shitting prepared me enough for this day. Can’t children be born potty trained? Can’t we evolve in that direction? [...]
This has to be one of the funniest blog posts I have read. And what a topic! I am an avid backpacker and rock climber and I definitely can empathize with most of what is discussed here. Though when the time does come to get over that avoidance constipation and let it rip, it’s never funny. I have read “How to shit in the woods” and agree with the blog author that it’s one of the greatest outdoor books ever written. I have had my fair share of embarrassing incidents while out in the wild but am too shy to mention all of them here.
Btw, do you guys really think Humpty Dumpty was pushed? Maybe he fell purposely because he’d to take a shit?
Claire G, you may be onto something here. Perhaps Humpty only wanted to take a dumpty.
My only problem with ‘How to Shit in the Woods’ is that Meyer makes such a tado about squatting (i.e. she apparently cannot pee unless she’s sitting on something). I admit it takes practice. It can also explain why so many Asian women are in heels (which helps).
My biggest problems with traveling around the USA are the public toilets. They are all ’sit upons’ and are usually filthy. So, how are you supposed to go? If the toilet’s well-grounded, I lift the seat, stand on the rim, and squat down to use the toilet as though it’s a squatty potty. If it’s suspended, then what: make paper wreaths on the seat? The absolute worst toilets are those with automatic flush — especially if they decide to flush right after you’ve finished making the wreath (but before you sat down) or before you’ve finished and stood up (making them the US version of the bidet). For those that must sit (i.e. handicapped in some way), post-it notes (to cover the sensor) and alcohol (to wipe the seat) can help.
As for backcountry sanitation? I really hate it when the backcountry is one large s***site. This is because too many people do not dispose of their waste properly (and in some places there are probably too many people TO dispose of their waste properly). Packing it out is obviously the solution for high-use places in ecologically fragile habitats. Paper bags with kitty litter (sawdust or recycled newspapers) can be composted and plastic storage containers are washable with soap & water. Finding the ideal storage container, however, can be a problem as it must be leak proof and lightweight (if hiking). The problem is what to do with the poo when you get back to the trail head or ranger station or car. RV dump stations or Scat Machines treat poo as toxic waste. Maybe parks should consider composting (see http://jenkinspublishing.com/humanure.html) and sell the sanitary result to farms and gardens.
[...] Perhaps it was the altitude, perhaps the anti-malarial medication I’d taken earlier in the day, probably a combination of both, but my bowels seemed to have been completely liquefied. After tossing and turning and trying to ignore the pain, I finally reached the point where I had to brave the cold night air, and make a mad dash to the toilets. Outside, it was like swimming through a cloud, which I guess is exactly what it was. In the glow of my headlamp, there seemed to be water droplets suspended in mid air. It wasn’t rain, but thick cloud, a magical sight rendered slightly less than magical by the imperatives from my gut. I repeated this process once more during the night, and let me just say my early Indian training in squat-style pit toilets stood me in good stead that night. The next day, I broke down and took an anti-diarrheal pill, and that fixed it for good. At the risk of offending the more delicate readers, I’ll say a couple more sentences on this topic. Almost everyone who climbs Kili experiences diarrhea to some extent, and the problem is more than just losing fluids and general discomfort. One of the symptoms that your body is acclimatizing well to the rigors of high altitude is the frequent passing of gas, from both ends. The problem with diarrhea is that it makes you unsure of what exactly is coming out the gate, if you see what I mean (for more on this phenomenon, called sharting, and other related topics, read this exhaustive, and exhausting, post on the topic.) A word to the men: forget your machismo, and pack some sanitary napkins. I’ll say no more. [...]
“As our cities grow, heave, push and collapse they hide many other invisible cities. And as we uncover these cities what we discover are nightmarish loads of shit.”
for more on Indian shit…mixed with a bit of theoretical shit…check out our discussion here:
http://sacredmediacow.com/?p=559
India is now hosting a toilet summit to address issues relevant in this post:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7070494.stm
If some of you might remember my comments/posting a couple of years ago with my elder son having a bad case of the runs at TVM airport..the sequel unfolded during our recent visit to the motherland .. this time on the 2 day train trip from Kerala to Bhilai. Same child .. similar scenario… I should write a book too! and maybe I should have gone to the summit!
I dont know if Meyers covers this part in the book. In rural India the toilets are just simply open fields and every day morning you will find loads of shit in the open fields. Whats interesting though is their shape. They look like inverted IceCream cones. I have tried to acheive this shit wonder this myself in some treks and have failed miserably. Guess thats one more rural Indian art that is dying. I even read somewhere that Nepalese have the lowest per capita toilets and the ones who have them dont prefer to use them. They would rather “drop their kids off” in more scenic Himalayan valleys. I guess they would be able to validate Mayers theories better and would provide a great source of knowledge in these matters.