The Long Trail : Day 10 : Part 1 : 9/30/20 . I spent the night tossing and turning as I listened to the torrential rain batter the tent. This was our first real storm in the Gossamer Gear Two and I wasn’t sure how it would weather the storm. For starters, we were on a slope, which meant if I was laying on my back gravity would slowly and uncomfortably pull me down. That meant I would risk getting the foot box of my quilt wet due to the condensation built up on the inner wall of our single walled tent. . Instead I would lay on my right side until my right arm and shoulder hurt then flip to my left side in a fetal position until my hips couldn’t take it anymore AND THEN on my back with my knees up so my planted feet could stop the pull of gravity. Toss, toss, turn. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Try to get some sleep between acrobatic movements. . The morning did come and the restless night ended but the rain did not. I waited as long as I could but the need to pee and take care of other business forced me out into the downpour. I suited up for my trip to the privy only to find my rain jacket’s right sleeve was totally soaked as was my left shoe that had somehow fallen sideways into a puddle during the night. . The rest of this story is ridiculous and will be posted later today in its own post. If you like poop stories and dilapidated privies you’re going to want to keep a close eye out for the next one. If that’s not you’re thing, feel free to skip the next post. Those of you who are childish enough to love my toilet story, you’re my people. Well, you’re all my people but I hold a special place in my heart for adults who appreciate a good poop story.

The Long Trail : Day 10 : Part 2 (The Poop Story) : 9/30/20 . I ripped the band aid and took off in the rain. I was in a hurry for more than one reason and I remembered reading something about “left to find the privy”. Naturally, I went left of the shelter to battle a raging and overflowing creek. It wasn’t dangerous but it was surprising as it had been a dry rock bed the evening before. Without trekking poles I tried to make my way across, balancing on rocks and logs. I made it with only one precarious moment and hiked on. . After a little farther than seemed necessary, I had a strong suspicion I was not on the path to the privy. I’m literally about to poop my pants at this point. I raced back over the unnecessary creek crossing to the shelter to reset my bearings. “North on the LT then to the left”, apparently I left out the first part. I tried again and almost turned around a second time when finally I saw a sign that read “toilet” with an arrow pointing left. . Relief flooded over me because, remember, things were getting dire. Also, don’t forget to picture that everything is wet, water is overflowing and yes, it’s still raining. Back to the “toilet”. Now, toilet is a loose term here. Most privies are some semblance of a shack with a toilet seat over a dug out hole in the ground. Some are better than others. This particular “toilet” was 1 star at best and that 1 star was incredibly generous. . Picture a wooden box with a toilet seat on top. The toilet lid is up and the hole in the ground is almost filled to the top with water and other things you wouldn’t discuss over dinner. Now, where the three walls, door and roof would be, just do away with those. But instead of throwing all the walls out, keep the door, set it horizontally on the ground on the side of the “toilet” facing the path. This way if someone walks up you can give them a friendly wave as you do your business and maybe spare them your naked behind. Regardless of how derelict the “toilet” was I was grateful to have this moment in the rain. With my business tended to, I made my way back through the trail turned river to find our tent and a still sleeping Dave.