High
Altitude Outhouse
Letter From a Professional Pooper
| posted Nov. 28
by Jon Shea
I
agree with most of
what I read in your article, The
Shit Scene.
I still
laugh at poop jokes. I can’t help it. In fact, poop
and the rituals surrounding taking a dump have become some
of the most interesting aspects of my job.
I am an
alpine guide. I lead groups of clients up mountains in Alaska,
Washington and South America. Listening to these grown men
and women, often highly successful professionals, juvenilely
ask questions about "you know, when you gotta go,"
and then watching them painfully grunt, squint and pant through
hours of misery rather than face the reality of shitting in
wilderness … It’s just really funny.
The system
that we use on Mt. Rainier, a 14,411-foot volcano, is referred
to as "blue-bagging." It is akin to picking up after
a dog, but with a double bag system. A heavy duty blue bag
is used to pick up "the goods," which are then placed
in a thicker plastic bag and twist-tied shut. The bag then
becomes property of the client until deposited in special
barrels on the mountain.
The process
is usually fascinating: First, the client in need of relief
must ask their guide for a blue bag. This immediately alerts
the rest of the clients on the rope team to the fact that
so-and-so is about to take a shit. The giggling and heckling
usually ensues shortly thereafter. Often the client must stay
attached to the rest of the rope team so they don’t
fall into a crevasse or slip off the mountain. This means
the would-be pooper can usually only get about 30 feet away
from the rest of the group. Imagine doing this at home. When
next your partner or friend has to drop a load, tie a rope
to yourself, then fasten it around her waist. Leave the bathroom
door open. Taunt her while she’s doing her business.
On the mountain, the whole problem of staying attached to
the rope and keeping your climbing harness on while "grumping"
(as we call it), usually produces some expletives, which keeps
everyone else laughing. If you have a particularly caring
guide, you might be lucky enough to find some toilet paper
in your blue bag. But more often than not, it's a cold chunk
of ice or a snowball that does the dirty work. This produces
even more cussing.
When the
"grump" has been collected, it promptly goes into
the poo-pocket of the client’s backpack. Did you really
think those silly little side pockets were for carrying skis?
I will only hint at the potentially disastrous consequences.
Although it is rare, I have seen these bags break and leak—everywhere.
Another
factor that keeps this business interesting is that we can't
stop just anywhere to go for a grump. We have pretty specific
breaks while climbing that keep us relatively safe from avalanches
and ice-fall. If we happen to have a really shy client who
waits until the last moment to tell us of his or her need,
we can't always be accommodating. I'm sure you can imagine
someone pleading "But I need to go NOW, you don't understand."
Now imagine having to explain, "I'm sorry we can't stop
right now.” Fortunately, I've never been on the wrong
end of that conversation, yet.
Blue-bagging
certainly isn't the only way of defecating on big mountains.
Mt. Adams, in Washington, has a delightfully amusing system
involving a piece of paper decorated with concentric circles,
some kitty litter and a plastic bag. It's kind of like target
practice. Mt. McKinley, in Alaska, has a few systems. Most
commonly there is "crevassing." The official National
Park Service policy is to "toss human waste into a deep,
open crevasse." While I’m sure that most of the
crevasses on McKinley are deep, I have never and rarely do
I see anyone inspecting the size and depth of one of these
holes to ensure its adequacy as a dumping place. Higher on
the mountain the park service has begun mandating the use
of Clean Mountain Cans (CMCs), to the aggravation of most
climbers.
The CMC
is a large, unwieldy cylinder that must be carried up and
down the mountain, but only used above 14,000 feet. Because
there is only one camp above 14,000 feet, this usually means
that a CMC sees one or two uses for the entire trip. But climbers
must nonetheless carry it the whole time. At least the Park
Service gives you a nice comfy foam ring to place on top of
the can while you "push one through the hoop.”
Needless
to say shitting in the wilderness is a comical experience.
But at the same time I think it is an important part of being
outside. There are few times when people are as exposed as
when they are taking a shit. It's a little embarrassing, slightly
uncomfortable and, although natural, it's really kind of a
nasty thing. It takes a lot for some people to come to grips
with taking a dump outside, especially if they have to do
it in front of peers. (I once had a client on a six-day trip
who didn't use a blue bag once. We were all a little worried
about her.)
That said,
I think being able to shit in the woods is symbolic of something
much larger. Shitting with style represents being able to
live comfortably. If you can do it, away from the amenities
of development, then being in wilderness becomes a whole new
experience.
Thoreau
and Emerson often wrote about getting back in touch with nature,
and I think the toilet arts are one of the toughest layers
separating humans from nature. Those who can shit outside
become not only more comfortable with their own humanity,
but also with wildness. And that is huge.
Thoughts
on this article? Write
us.
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