How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Pooping in the Woods

In the summer of 2018 my friends and I loaded a canoe onto the top of my mom’s minivan, packed in enough nuts and freeze dried meals to get us through an Everest climb, and the spirit of adventure to drive us onward. 

The Departure 

We left at 5:00am and raced north to Algonquin Provincial Park in Ontario, Canada. A vast park filled with an abundance of lakes, old growth forest, and very little built bathroom infrastructure. 

Now, I have been camping many times before. However these camping spots always had some sort of bathroom building. Whether it was an actual building with a full multi person bathroom, or just an out house, there were always four walls surrounding you as “business” was conducted. Regardless of the four walls, these weren’t exactly beautiful thrones. Dimly lit, smelly, and seldom cleaned. Hardly ideal. 

The first poop spot on our trek was the off highway, in a fast food joint. After some early morning coffee and breakfast sandwiches, the stop was inevitable. Full of other travellers, early morning commuters, and night-shift workers on their way home, the place is humming with activity. So is the bathroom. 

The Arrival

We arrive in Algonquin Park, gather ourselves and our gear, and set off on the water. The clear, glistening lake water in the mid-morning sun melts away the memories of the bright white LED lights reflecting off of the pale off white toilet bowl of our highway pitstop. The smell of mothballs is also quickly shewed away by the fresh forest air. Paddles in hand and map at the ready we began our trek into the vast wilderness. 

The paddle to our desired lake was eventful. A short, yet powerful rainstorm that soaked our gear and almost blew our canoes into the bank. One of our group members fell in the lake trying to check out a potential site. Eventful? Yes. But that’s all a part of the experience, no? With a suitable site selected, our camp was quickly set up, firewood acquired, and food was being prepared. Now came arguably the most important discovery we now needed to make. The location of the infamous thunderbox. For those who may not know, the thunderbox is a wooden toilet box that is as simple as it gets. A box, over a pit, with a hole cut in it. A simple solution for pooping in woods. Once discovered it’s only a matter of time before I’ll venture to its sacred ground.

A bit after eating I get that feeling. That all too familiar and undeniable sensation that builds from within, slowly growing in strength and urgency. My thunderbox journey is quickly approaching. I’m nervous about the removal of the usual four walls of safety that accompany my normal bathroom trips, but unless I want to just sit with 4 days worth of freeze dried food and trail mix, I’m going to the thunderbox. I grab my roll of toilet paper, embrace the spirit of adventure, and set off away from the rest of the camp.

The Awakening

I settle onto my exposed wooden throne, and take in my surroundings. The freedom of being able to peer in all directions and be unobstructed by the built environment. The cool breeze brings smells of pine and cool lake air to my nose. My senses relax and my body rids itself of the anxiety and fear of the unfamiliar poop. Instead I feel a wave of calm and belonging that only comes when one gives themselves up to the untamed and beautiful nature that surrounds them. Doing my business among 300 year old White Pines that both make me feel insignificant, yet comforted. I feel the connection to the grand human experience. Sharing an act that will be done by every human that once was, is, and ever will be. 

There was never anything to sweat about (bugs and rain are unpleasant, but manageable issues), nothing to truly be scared of. I learned to stop worrying, and love pooping in the woods.