The Pit Toilet

I did the complicated footwork of the traditional potty dance across the parking lot as I made the way to the pit toilet. A short while later I exited the small brown building relieved and satisfied. It had been one of the cleaner pit toilets on the trip and now I was ready to face the day.

Over the past months, I have squatted over many, many types of thrones. The most rustic are typically a bit of dirt hopefully enclosed by some private bushes but sometimes in the wide open with only one side of the submarine to break sightline from other campers. A step up, the good ol’ pit toilet comes in many degrees of cleanliness, odors, and supplies. I have quickly gained the habit of bringing toilet paper with me when pit toilets are in my future.

Flush toilets are much more varied, but the plumbing is something we jump at whenever possible. Rest stops are bottom shelf, travel centers catering to CDL drivers are mid-range and those blessed casinos are the top shelf. Anytime I can find a sink, you will see me with my hoodie pouch full with facewash, toothpaste and a hairbrush.

This isn’t to say hygiene is forgotten with more rustic facilities. A spray bottle of soap followed by hand sanitizer does the job. And it’s not like I never brush my hair, I just usually don’t see the end result. I’ve definitely gone the more natural route of make-up, as in, absolutely none. My morning routine is rather quick; face wash, sunscreen, hair in a braid/bun, hat on, smell clothes before putting on. I call it nature-chic.

We typically don’t stink. A shower every 2-3 days is usual. They vary from the gym showers which are surprisingly inconsistent in quality to travel centers (top notch) to at worst a park sink, shudder. Even Leinie gets a monthly bath, usually after rolling in something suspect.

All in all, compared to backcountry backpacking where you are digging a cathole every morning and embracing the stench of a week without a shower, this has been rather clutch as the kids say.