When our boys were growing up we rarely missed a weekend camping, fishing, jeeping in the mountains or at Pismo or on the desert. When you’re out on a jeep trail, there are no potties. Not even a bucket. You did your business behind a rock or tree or even just behind the jeep if need be. Thank God Sheila was a trooper.
Same here Jim. It wasn’t every weekend for us, but often enough. I still enjoy a good night under the stars. When in nature, do what the other animals do. I do think it’s a good idea to dig a hole, do your business, and cover it up when you’re ready to return home.
The toilet seat thing is really an invention of Western culture. Not that it isn’t quite convenient when available. Squat-on-feet pooping can be a strange and perhaps unbalancing experience for one not habituated to it (as in much of Asia). As a redneck, the outhouse is as far as I will take it — I don’t want to fall backwards into the poop spot, or get shat-up legs.
Thanks for sharing that insight into your earlier life.
I grew up in the country and knew enough to not use poison ivy leaves and to avoid the stinging nettles if I needed to go.
One of the participants was an engineer and rigged a seat over the pit with some branches. He was all proud of it until the heaviest guy in the group sat on it and it broke, pitching him rump-first into the well-used latrine. He bunny-hopped with his pants around his ankles to a nearby pond and jumped in, screaming at the top of his lungs all the way.