The Lost Art of Shitting in the Woods

When nature calls in the backcountry, sometimes she really calls—loud and clear. For those who’ve ventured into the wild, the prospect of “shitting in the woods” is less a topic of polite conversation and more an inevitable reality of life on the trail. While it may not be glamorous, let’s dig in (pun intended) and explore the do’s, don’ts, and the hilarity that ensues when nature takes its course in the most liberating way.

Step One: Location, Location, Location

When scouting a bathroom spot, you have to think like a real estate agent. Your prime poop property must be:

1. 200 feet from water sources– because “shit floats” and no one wants a “poo creek” situation.

2. Away from the trail– because surprising hikers with your bare buns is not the type of trail magic anyone wants.

3. Flat and stable ground– slopes are for skiing, not squatting.

Bonus points for a scenic view, because why not? Who says nature’s call can’t come with a little ambiance? You ever wonder how I get the beautiful sunrise photos? I make sure I am the first one to wake up at first light and I pick the best spot to see the sun crawl up!

Sunrise at Susie Lake

Step Two: Digging the Cat Hole

Ah, the trusty cat hole—a 6-to-8-inch deep hole that serves as your temporary throne. Forget your trowel? Time to get creative. A sturdy stick, your heel, or sheer determination will have to do. Just remember: no hole, no go. Leave No Trace (LNT) principles dictate that your business stays buried and out of sight for the sake of other hikers and the environment.

Pro tip: The high-tech ultralight titanium trowels are cool, but an orange plastic one works just fine—and makes you look like a pro in the process.

Step Three: The Stance

This is where the art form truly emerges. Do you go full squat, hang on to a tree for balance, or attempt the infamous “backpack brace”? Test out a few techniques before the big day. Trail life is about finding what works for you (and avoiding what doesn’t—like squatting over poison oak).

For the expert pooper, there’s the “log-overhang” position: Find a fallen log, perch on the edge, and let gravity do its thing. It’s like a throne—but with bonus splinters.

Step Four: TP, Bidet, or Nature’s Charm?

Here’s where things get personal.

• Toilet Paper: The classic choice, but be prepared to pack it out if it’s not biodegradable. Yes, even the used stuff. (Double bagging is your friend here.)

• Trail Bidet: My optimal choice (because packing dirty TPs grosses me out). Popular among thru-hikers, this tiny squeeze bottle brings the luxury of a clean tush to the backcountry. (Just make sure you don’t mix it up with your water bottle.)

Trail Hygiene

• Natural Options: Leaves, smooth stones, or snow (nature’s bidet!) work in a pinch—but know your flora. Mistaking poison ivy for TP is a story no one wants to tell. Luckily, I have never been this desperate.

Step Five: Laugh It Off

At some point, something will go wrong. Maybe the wind catches your TP mid-squat. Maybe your chosen tree wasn’t as sturdy as it looked. Or maybe you’ll realize, mid-wipe, that you’ve wandered too close to the trail and are now starring in someone else’s “weird trail encounter” story. Whatever happens, embrace it. Believe me, we all have poop-in-the-woods stories to tell.

Trail Wisdom: The Do’s and Don’ts of Shitting in the Woods

Do:

• Pack hand sanitizer. It’s a post-poop lifesaver.

• Bury it deep. Animals love to dig up shallow deposits.

• Share your story. It’s a rite of passage in the hiking world.

Don’t:

• Poop near water sources. Seriously.

• Leave TP out in the open. It’s not biodegradable as quickly as you think. And it is gross.

• Panic. Nature has been handling this for eons—you’ll be fine.

Final Thought: It’s Just Natural. Easy like Sunday morning.

When you think about it, pooping in the woods connects you to something primal. Sure, it’s awkward at first, but there’s also freedom in it. Like Sunday mornings. No deadlines, no stress, just you, the landscape, and your trowel.

So next time you’re out on the trail, embrace the call of nature with confidence, humor, and respect. And always remember: bury it deep and laugh about it later.