When Nature Calls in Nature – Part 1
- Blog When Nature Calls in Nature – Part 1
You may look at the title of this blog and think, "Oh great...yet another post about getting in touch with the outdoors, listening to the great call of the wind or the sound of a waterfall." Yes, those things are all beautiful and inspiring, but this particular call of nature refers to those dreaded moments that every outdoors man/woman faces when their bodies suddenly alert them (and usually at the most inconvenient times) that it is time to go. Yes. That call of nature.
Even as I write this I cringe, and simultaneously chuckle at some of my past experiences while I was alone, in a bush, pants around the ankles, in the deep dark woods, praying to God that the shuffling I just heard was a squirrel and not a bear.
As I solicited stories from friends, family and strangers alike, people all seemed far too eager to share their embarrassing encounters with mother nature, so I have decided to make this a continuing blog for as long as the stories flood in. Lucky you!
To break the ice, I will begin with a personal tale of hilarious tragedy...
I went to college on the Central Coast of California at CSU Monterey Bay. If you are familiar with that area, you know that the beautiful coastal mountains of Big Sur are just to the south, so needless to say my friends and I frequented those mountains, whether it was for camping, hiking or simply spending a day at the beach. One fateful night, during one of our many regular camping trips, I had secretly left the comfort of the warm bonfire to relieve myself. For my fellow campers, you know this can sometimes be a challenge. You want to get far enough away so the light of the fire won't illuminate the deed you are about to do, yet close enough that your imagination won't run away with you.
I thought I had found the perfect clearing in the darkness; one large bush situated next to an oak tree. I pulled down my pants and preceded to do my business. As I finished, I was relieved that the situation had gone according to plan; no bear attacked me and no rattlesnakes and wriggled their way into my undies. Pure and utter relief.
The next morning I awoke with a horrible burning sensation on my rear and in between my legs. I reluctantly called a good girlfriend to come inspect me, the poor thing. She was gracious, but broke out in laughter. As it turns out, my little potty break had not, in fact, been as perfect as I thought. Instead, I apparently made my nature toilet right dead smack in the middle of a poison oak bush.
So, the moral of the story is, it would be wise to have a flashlight and a botanist degree before venturing into the darkness to do your thing in the woods.
Our next story comes from Martin in California. I've known Martin since grade school, and have seem him blossom from a typical, rowdy mountain boy into a distinguished wildland firefighter. His story almost sent me into a laughing conniption. Here is his wildly hysterical account...
As a wildland fire fighter I'm sure you can imagine how frequently we use the restroom that nature has provided. We often times spend as long as two weeks without seeing a proper toilet. A large majority of my coworkers prefer to relieve themselves outdoors. I, on the other hand, do not share their enthusiasm. I will scout and scout regardless of how bad I have to go to find a secluded, yet comfortable spot to go numero deuce. This is, of course, because I have a good reason. Prior to the forest service, I grew up in the mountains, so naturally, I peed outside all the time. It was so easy. But I never had to poop. If I did, I'd just head home. So I had never actually done it prior to my first summer in fire. All the guys would boast about how great their poop sessions were if just for a laugh, and I'd agree. I would discretely ask what method they used in order to gain intel on the matter. It seemed the drop your pants, grab a branch and lean back was a popular method. So when the opportunity presented itself I was eager to see if it would work as well for me. So I dropped my pants, grabbed a branch, leaned back and pooped right into the underwear still sitting around my ankles. So now, ten years later, I seek a nice log or rock to firmly sit on.
Story number three comes to us from another dear friend from my childhood, and although we grew up on the North American continent together, her potty story took place in Austria. Hey! We all need to go, no matter what country we are in! Enjoy...
Flashback to Austria, 2002-ish. My older sister had come to visit me at the Bible College I was attending and being the competitive, over zealous freaks that we are, we decided that we were going to jog all the way around the small lake (about 14 miles) that was close to the school. We began our journey without a care in the world. Nothing could stop us! Fast forward to an hour later, we were red faced, thirsty, exhausted, and no longer as confident in our physical prowess. And on top of all this, I had to go number 2 something fierce, so all I could think was, squeeze my cheeks, squeeze my cheeks, and so on... I finally found a large tree that was a tiny bit off the trail because it was literally going to fall out of my butt, and being the lady that I am, I kicked a bit of dust over my shame and sat down to join my sister at a nearby bench to contemplate what the heck we were going to do. All of the sudden a classic European male jogger whizzes by. Of course were going to make fun of this man and his outfit, but before we could even begin he turns off the path, chooses the same exact large tree where I had just freshly soiled the ground, and begins to stop around and stretch atop my pile of $#i+! We were laughing so uncontrollably that we most definitely peed our pants. The poor dude. I wouldn't wish that unfortunate fate on my worst enemy. We promptly opted that hitchhiking home was the best way to end our ill-planned day of fitness, and to that European gentleman who deserved so much better, I am so VERY sorry!
Stay tuned for more adventures of humiliation on the trail!
*disclamer - these two particular folks gave me the okay to use their names, being the brave and shameless souls that they are, however there are some who wish to remain anonymous, so for us lucky readers, we will just have to imagine who they are*
Do you have an embarrassing When Nature Calls story to share? Tell us all about it by sending your tale to [email protected] (you can request to stay anonymous!) and we will feature it in an upcoming blog post!
Mary Beth Burgstahler was born and raised in the Southern California Mountains and attended college at Cal State University Monterey Bay where she majored in Human Communications. Having lived her entire life in Wilderness areas, she gained an affinity for the outdoors and outdoor activities, one of the main reasons Mary Beth agreed to moved to her husband's home-state of Minnesota in June of 2013. Outdoor adventure abounds in the Land of Ten Thousand Lakes. Shortly after their move, Mary Beth and her husband, Jacob, welcomed their first son, Jackson, in August of 2014. They now reside in White Bear Lake, MN.
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