When Tonebone shits in the woods, does it make a sound?

[AHTOXA]

I love spending time in the woods, and I do this often. Some days it just feels great to get out and not hear the noises from cars, city traffic, or dumb neighbors.

A couple of months ago, I was sitting in the office on Thursday or so, and was checking out the weather for the weekend. It was supposed to be rather warm and sunny, so I made plans to go have a long dayhike near Lake Texoma.

Saturday morning comes around, I grab my daypack and head out. I fling my stuff in the car, Jack jumps in and we're ready to go. It'll be about an hour and a half drive. Wiping slobber from the excited dog panting over my shoulder, I pick my way through the little traffic and head on the interstate.

I get to the trailhead, park, grab my gear and set off. The weather remains beautiful and I'm in a great mood. The trail winds its way down a lake shore. There's a slight breeze, no people are to be seen or heard, and the calm lake is reflecting the sun in a myriad of sparkles. Then, some redneck dickface cruises by in his pontoon boat blasting some terrible pop-country music. From the elevated cliffside along the lake I see that he's got a couple of buddies in his boat, along with some women that have an obvious dental work deficiency contrasted by body fat in great excess, which been allocated in all the wrong places. I mean, it was to the point that their back-boobs were so huge that it was hard to tell which side was their front. I dry-heaved a little at the sight of that and moved on.

It seems that while I was trying to purge the mental image of the back-breasts, my body took the concept of purging a little too seriously. About a mile or two down the trail, I have this immediate urge to take a shit. You know the type - it starts out as innocent enough rumbling in your gut and then the next minute you're cramped hard and are seriously considering sticking a thumb in your ass just to avoid shitting yourself until you can manage to get to a restroom. If only there was a way to strengthen the sphincter muscle. You know, like, you could go to the gym and have a machine that looks like a dildo, upon which you sit and flex the sphincter a while. 5 reps of 10 maybe, 4 days a week?

But lucky me! I'm in the woods, so the world is my bathroom. I run off trail (with butt cheeks clenched harder than those kids at Neverland ranch), looking like a penguin to any onlookers. Shit, shit shit, need to find a tree that I can grab onto and squat. Otherwise, I'd lack a good counter-balance and shitting on boots is a real possibility. Shitting in my boot would be even worse.

A-ha, a tree of perfect size with perfect cover! Drop trou, open the hatch and drop the bombs! The relief is immediate. Color comes back to the world and you can actually think clearly.

My joy and relief comes to a screeching halt as I'm digging in my pack I realize that I didn't take any TP with me, as I always do when I'm out hiking or backpacking. Well, f**k.

So here I am, with a full moon to the world, taking little tiny shuffling steps with pants around my ankles. I'm looking for leaves. The problem is that it was late fall going into winter and there aren't many dry leaves around, so it takes some foraging to gather enough. As I gather my organic Charmin, I realize that something else is wrong.

In my hurried attempts to avoid catastrophic nuclear explosion into pants (not to mention HAZMAT fallout), I didn't get far enough off trail, nor did the bush that I was behind provide much cover, since it's late fall and it's sort of bare. There are 3 hikers down the trail not much than a few tens of yards away from me. Jack runs over to them to say hi, and naturally they are looking around to see where the owner is. Well, the owner's in an interesting predicament, that's where he is. I don't want to stand up with my junk hanging out and yell "Don't worry, he's friendly!". Given the visual presented to them, whatever I say at this point is irrelevant. I might as well be a f**k alien.

As I ponder how to improve my situation, they spot me. The two guys and the gal stop. They just stop. Now, let's review the situation from another angle. You're hiking in the woods with your friends, and here comes a dog. Oh, look, he's so cute and friendly! I wonder where the owne.... Oh. Um. There's a dude in half-squat, like, right there. Hmm, his weiner is dangling. OH GOD WTFBBQ!!!!!

Immediately they just put their heads down and start down the trail double-time. Trust me, the dudes didn't want to witness this and the girl was definitely not impressed (you know, it was cold outside). At this point I just stand there. There's really not much else I can do, given the hilarity of the situation. Although, that hilarity won't be evident to me until later.

I gathered enough "material" and was soon on my way. I didn't hike as far as I'd hoped, for I soon got a raw ass so bad, that I'd considered that being someone's boy-toy in prison may have been less painful. Have you ever tried taking sandpaper, applying it to the old 'chocolate starfish' vigorously, then generously applying salt to the area and walking a few miles? Yeah, don't do that.

I now have backup TP. Redundancy, friends. Redundancy.

[Squint]

As someone who has had that exact feeling while hiking, I totally get it. I have a very strong memory of almost doing something very similar in Canada while on a week long canoe trip. Luckily, no one came across me as I was evacuating everything I had eaten in the past 12+ hours and I did have TP. We all kept it in our packs. I would never consider going on a hike of any length without some. If nothing else, it can be used as tissues - if not its primary function.

Just don't forget to try and bury the refugee from your bowels, for the sake of nature, animals, and anyone else looking for a tree. The only thing worse than almost pooing yourself, realizing you don't have TP, and getting spotted by strangers would be doing all that, and stepping in someone else's poo.

[potownrob]

[Rope-Pusher]

So sometime at hoam, when the roll on the wall is starting to get toward the end, change it early, flatten the removed roll and pack it in a sandwich-sized zip-lok bag (wet All Purpose Paper (APP) isn't nearly half as absorbent as dry APP). Perfect for carrying in a cargo pocket or backpack.

Carry a tablespoon or a small shovel to dig 150mm deep hole - you don't want to dig down below where active microbe critters live and breath in the soil. Also, deposit the removed earth back over the feces and poke a stick into it so that 150-250mm is left sticking out the top, to warn enlightened others of what's at the other end of the stick.



https://geartoons.wordpress.com/2013/12 ... the-woods/

[AHTOXA]

Taking the paper roll when it gets low is what I've always done. Just not that time.

It's always best when I can find a downed tree or a log over which one can perch. At least that way you can get some thigh support instead of gripping the tree.

[watkins]

This is a better story.

[theholycow]

I would rather sacrifice a pair of socks and walk out with blistered feet than end up with severe raw ass. I'd even sacrifice underpants and go home commando, even if that meant risking some residue bespoiling my trousers.

[AHTOXA]

Severely blistered feet are more painful than a severe raw ass.

[Squint]

Severely blistered feet are more painful than a severe raw ass.

Yeah, I would have sacrificed the boxers/briefs/whatever for the cause. Both of those things are miserable.