Tuesday, October 13, 2020

So You Wat to Go Hiking, Volume 4

Noah's Unofficial Guide to Not Dying in the Backcountry

Trash and Poo: Your Guide to Wilderness Waste

Hi.

Come, have a seat.

Take my hand. 
I care


Let's look each other in the eye so we know we're approaching this with the sincerity of sincere people being really sincere and forthcoming.

Let's talk about a...delicate topic. 

Let's talk about pooping in the woods.

At some point, you're going to have to "get rid" of all this food you've consumed. But we're not bears. We're not deer or rabbits. We don't just dump it anywhere we want. You see: we're civilized when we poop in the wild outdoors. 

...yes
One of the basic premises of backcountry camping - for humans, anyway - is "leave no trace." It means that, to the extent possible, work to minimize your footprint. Literally. You can't be ham-handed about how you recycle your ham. But here's the thing: nobody - no matter how tough, no matter how macho, no matter how "up hill both ways barefoot in the snow" - nobody wants to be the sad sucker who's got to haul around a trash bag of gut-butter. And I see all sorts of silly shit (pun mildly intended) like the "Luggable Loo," which is really just a 5-gallon bucket with a lid, or the PETT Portable Toilet, which I feel like wouldn't support a full-grown adult. And come on folks. Whose pack gets to haul a whole 5-gallon bucket in or on it? Who's gonna be the sucker to walk around holding that PETT briefcase-of-shame?

The answer is: no one.

What is one to do when one has to poo?

Dig a hole. I'm here to tell you: it's responsible, it's minimal, and really, when you think about it, you're giving back. To nature. 

The best, tried-and-true method is called a cathole. Not caththththole. Cat-hole. When you hear about "digging latrines," that's just a long cathole so a bunch of people can poop side-by-side, nearly touching, all uncomfortable-like. Anyway, before I get too far down the group-poo rabbit hole:

Noah's Advice on Sound Cathole Practices

  1. You want to dig about 200 feet from trails and water. That's both for sanitation reasons as well as, frankly, privacy; nobody wants to actually watch that happen any more than you want to be seen. Parents with toddlers: AMIRITE??
    Don't just use any hole you see in the dirt

  2. If you've arrived at where you're base-camping or camping for the night, find that spot and dig that hole a) downwind!; and 2) before you have to do the deed, cuz there's nothing in the world like fighting a peeping turtle while straining to dig a hole in rocky clay. N...not that I've...I mean...
  3. An ideal spot, along with being downwind and 200-feet from trails and water and your site, includes a stout tree or even better, a fallen tree. So much easier to squat when you've got back support, no?
  4. Pack one of these. All these websites talking about garden trowels or tent stakes. Pfft. Get you an e-tool. Bonus: good for fending-off curious mid-poop wildlife.
  5. Dig a hole about 6-8 inches deep, and 4-6 inches wide. Like you're planting flowers.
  6. ONE CATHOLE PER PERSON PER POOP. No sharing. Pooping is a stingy business. A few yards between catholes is fine, but no multi-use holes. 
  7. CRITICAL
    I cannot stress enough the importance of pooping like a samurai. It is critical to do the deed with pants around 1 ankle and off to the side. I will detail the reasons as to why and what happens with an off-target dump if you need me to. N...not that I've...I mean...
  8. If you can, find and pack unscented, thinner-ply toilet paper. You want it to biodegrade. You don't want a badger thinking it smells like lovely flowers, digging-up your cathole, and spreading used toilet paper all over your camp. N...not that I've...I mean...
  9. When you're done, bury your business with the dirt you dug up to make the hole. Pat it down.
  10. A note on wipes and feminine hygiene products: pack those like you pack your food trash, as discussed in Volume 3. Human poo, even buried, can be both interesting but also a deterrent. But flowery-smelling things and bloody things? Irresistible.
  11. A note on smells, especially if local regulations allow for poo-burial but not paper burial: triple-ziploc that waste, and pack some baking soda to sprinkle over it to mitigate...aromatics.
  12. A note on pee: you don't need to dig a cathole to pee, boy or girl. Try to pee on dirt, and not on vegetation. Only reason: it protects plants. Animals want to chew on salty things. Take that as you will.
There. That wasn't so bad. I feel like we really covered a lot, got a lot done, came to understand how it's safe for us to talk about personal things together.

Now, the easier topic: trash!

You know the old commercial, with the silent tears

Here's where "leave no trace" really shines. Challenge yourself to pack trash-making things (like food; again, see Volume 3) that would be rather minimal in nature. You don't want to haul around a 20-gallon kitchen-sized trash bag because 1) that means you're packing stuff that's in some serious packaging; and ii) space! Your pack is finite. Like I said in a previous post, 4 of us over nearly 3 days produced 1 single gallon-sized ziploc of waste. Not bad. 
Osprey is good, but not THAT good

During the day, who cares if you and your pack smell like an open-air wedding reception buffet in a rose garden. Wildlife isn't just gonna walk up and be like "how are the chicken sate' bites and may I have a crab cake?" Instead, what these thieves and burglars do is  wait until you're asleep to ransack your packs and tents. So anything that smells - anything -  needs to get smell-proofed. Don't think that just cuz it's in a ziploc with the air all mushed-out and double-bagged that it's smell-proof. It's not. Animals really want to put their faces in your leftovers. And toothpaste. And deodorant. And bagged toilet paper for the can't-bury-it places. Animals are gross.

Noah's Advice on Sound Trash Practices

  1. Buy a high-quality waterproof, scent-proof "dry bag" like this
  2. Bag each smelly thing you own in different ziplocs: toiletries, trash, other scented stuff. Please don't pack your toothbrush in with the used tissue. If you're packing dehydrated hiker food you haven't opened yet, toss those in the dry bag; no need to bag those bags
  3. Seal the dry bag. This is important. 
  4. Make the dry bag hard to get to; i.e. hang it. Watch that video at the link. Read my Facebook Post about how I screwed this method up once. ONCE.
  5. Not a possibility (like you can't hang a bag because there are no trees)? Buy a bear canister and repeat steps 1-3. As for step 4, put it about 100 - 200  feet from where you're sleeping. It defeats the purpose if you put a bear canister in your tent. Then you just have a pissed-off and hungry bear ransacking your stuff inside your tent while you're trying to sleep and bears take up a lot of room. 1/10, don't recommend.
Do this for places where bears aren't. Do this for places where bears are. Always look for state and federal guidance about bear-proofing, because in some places it's an absolute requirement (like in my lovely state, the Porcupine Mountains and Pictured Rocks require bear-proofing). But it's always good practice, because storing trash and smelly stuff in your packs and tents and hammocks is a good way, even in the total absence of bears, to get your packs ripped to shreds by mice, raccoons, chipmunks, and wandering space aliens looking for samples. Whodini was right: the freaks really do come out at night.

And don't be That Guy who sleeps with a sneaky midnight snack. Unless you like to share it with a hundred furry friends.

Look at you, almost ready to hit the trail!

Next up in Volume 5: FASHION!

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