Ammi Midstokke: An awkward conversation about toileting in the trees

After much time enjoying the outdoors, from state park campsites to off-trail bushwhacking, it has come to my attention that my fellow outdoor appreciators need some education on using nature as a latrine.

I recognize this may be an awkward conversation, but let’s be realistic: We all need to go. Every day. It’s no secret. The social stigma we have about taking care of business outdoors is what contributes to the piles of toilet paper decorating tree trunks.

So let’s get a few things straight: It is okay to go to the bathroom outside. It is NOT okay to not be prepared for the call of nature. If you are not being responsible about your forest toilet behavior, you best hold it until you get home.

Nature is indeed a big, wide, open space. However, as far as I can tell, humans have some sort of sixth sense about pooping in the same 30-square-foot area. And as soon as one person drops their toilet paper on the ground, it is permission for everyone else to blatantly litter as well.

But we’re outdoors and the soil is rich, why can’t we just fertilize it? We can. Toilet paper and the undigested remains of your Oreo cookies, however, are not fertilizer.

Enjoying a morning constitutional in the Great Outdoors is, in my potty opinion, one of the most natural, peaceful ways to start the day. The only thing that tops it is coming back to camp (after several hundred yards of walking) and enjoying coffee on an alpine lakeshore with a sense of intestinal achievement.

So here’s how to bask in the glory of a healthy BM without wrecking nature and everyone else’s experience:

Bring your trowel. It is as important as your first aid kit. Also, having a little shovel poking out of the side of your backpack brings pooping elitism and awareness to hikers you pass. It says “I am comfortable with my body and I am a qualified, responsible hiker.”

Find your quiet place far away from camp, water sources, and the trail, and dig your 6-inch hole (not deeper because the soil below lacks the bacteria to breakdown your organics).

Aim well. The squat position is actually conducive to a much more complete bowel movement, so ponder the health of your colon while you stare out at the ferns.

Cover your business with dirt, leaves, and sticks. I recommend throwing a good rock or some big sticks on top as well so no future trekkers step on it. Because, as we’ve established, that sixth sense means someone will inevitably wander by.

Toilet paper is for toilets. This is where most people fail nature. They are uncomfortable handling the reality of what just happened and discard it in the trees. Toilet paper does not break down well. In fact, it turns into little white chucks and lasts years once it has been rained on.

The best way to handle this is by following the pack-it-in, pack-it-out rule. Bring a zip lock bag, place your used paper in the bag (the same always goes for feminine products), carry it out of the woods. If you are uncomfortable with this, buy the children’s book “Everybody Poops” and get over it.

Leaves, of course, make for great 100 percent organic and natural toilet paper. Collect them as you are scouting for the perfect potty perch. Bury them with the rest of your morning success. Return to camp with the smugness of a seasoned outdoors person.

Share the knowledge. Lastly, when you are heading into the wilderness with friends and family, pass down the timeless wisdom of proper pooping etiquette. Ask people if they have their trowel, offer yours if they don’t. Bring extra bags. And for the love of nature, leave no trace.