"Phase 5 is Not an Option"

Days Walking - 26

I woke up crying last night, at like 3am. Bawling. I don't even remember what I was dreaming, or even if I was dreaming. I don't feel sad. I'm not depressed. I don't know what my deal was. I guess I was making a bit of noise, because Church woke up and asked me what was wrong and I told her I didn't know. She gave me a hug and did the whole pat-pat-there-there, it'll be all right routine. She's kind.

I didn't wake anyone else, I don't think. I'm not going to go around asking - "Hey, did you hear me crying in the night?".

I'm fine, really. It's all good. Hormones or something. Bad dream. Shrug. It's all good.

Sooooooo Yeah.

Gabriel just reminded me to talk about the poop tent.

Every day, he's like "Did you talk about the poop tent?"
- and I'm all "No, I forgot." I should have just said "Oh yeah, the readers - they loved that bit about the Poop Tent."

Because really, do the readers want to read about elimination?
I don't mean like on a reality show. I mean going #1 and #2.

The wind chill up here regularly gets down to -30 F, no one wants to squat and try to do their 'business' in that.

The Poop Tent:
(We girls also use it to pee, but 'poop' sounds a lot like 'pup' in pup-tent, and we find that oh so punny)

It's one of those tiny little tents that is designed for you to stow some gear that you don't need in your main tent. It's got those whippy bendy tubes in it, so all you do is unsnap it and fling it (having properly folded it previously) and it goes 'poof' into a teeny tent. Now, before starting the trip, we retrofit this baby with a velcro window / trapdoor in the bottom...

'Ohhh, I see' you say.

Yes, It does help. A lot. But when your bare ass is exposed, any air that gets in is too much air. And God forbid you lose your balance while squatting and fall back into the snow (or Vishnu forbid, into your freshly arrived contribution).

So let's just say it's not perfect, shall we? We've gone to a 'Spotter' system, where one person uses the 'facilities', and one person steadies the tent and pushes their hand through the tent fabric, pushing down on your head and helping you balance.

Sometimes the Spotter will sing something, you know, loud.
To help hide any unpleasant sound effects.

When choosing a Poop Tent location, we try to survey the area, looking for some powder. A lot of times, everything is solid. We're walking on snow, but it's not that feathery light stuff, it's hard frozen crust. At least when there's powder of some sort, you can kick some snow over your pile of yum.

Oh, and that whole cliche quote about 'steaming pile' -
It's true. And creepy.
And I've seen a - - - Pile, I guess, steam its way right through the crust and vanish.

"They should have sent a poet."

So you do your duty and then kinda tug the pants back up. You can't really zip and snap stuff back together very well while squatting (at least I can't). So you tell your Spotter that "Phase 5 is Complete" (think it through, do the math) or "Phase 5 is Not an Option" (Jake coined these phrases, and they stuck somehow) and they pick up on the tent a bit, and you crab-walk forward.

If you fall back at this point, at least your pants are mostly pulled up, if not fastened. Once you have reached Minimum Safe Distance, you can exit the Poop Tent and complete your tucking, fastening, buckling, and so on.

Going to the bathroom is a huge freakin chore, and if one person has to go, everybody better try, cause I hate folding the Poop Tent. We rotate this chore. Adrian is the best at it, he makes it look easy. I struggle. It's those whippy bendy tubes. It's their destiny to make the tent go 'poof'. I respect that.

You don't wanna know this, but sometimes when there are splatters on the tent fabric, you just wait for them to freeze, and then beat them off with a walking stick, snowshoe, etc.

I hope you weren't just about to eat.

Litany Webb, signing off

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