I hear you. I have moved along when I found a site festooned with more toilet paper flowers than I cared to police, and I was once the Stool Nurse on a Cholera ward. I had some *hitty jobs, including kennel boy at an animal shelter.
The dog runs were not splashing-feces fun to hose down, the cat cages were more enjoyable; open the cage door for some affectionate head bumps while changing the litter and laying down fresh newspaper. Aren’t you a sweet thing, I’ll pause to read the newspaper while you purr and give me some loving.
I don’t count on the availability of a thunderbox in unknown areas, and some people do a lousy shallow job of cathole digging with a flimsy plastic trowel. I’d prefer not to set my tent atop a pile of barely buried poo, drive a tarp stake into same, or excavate a hole to find a surprise.
There is a lovely beach site in Florida’s 10,000 islands, with an even lovelier tent spot hidden sheltered back in the trees. It would be a lovely sheltered tent spot, but I have never see that much excrement poorly and not-at-all buried in one place.
I am not fond of the “burn it in the campfire” method. Better than thrown in the brush as a turd blossom, but I question how thorough a “burn it” job the last group managed. Add that grossness to fire pits with scorched aluminum foil and melted plastic bits. I’ll pack out other folk’s garbage, but I have my limits.
If it is a no-portage lake or river trip in a frequented area I bring a bucket and wag bag toilet system.
https://myccr.com/phpbbforum/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=49226Sometimes that private throne is simply a convenience. One of my favorite paddle-in swamp campsites in North Carolina (Merchants Millpond SP) has a composting Port-a-Jon. From my preferred site it is a long way away, up a surprisingly steep hill. Once the coffee hits I’m not making that hike with sphincter-clenched urgency.
A favorite barrier island paddle in site at Hammocks Beach (also NC) has a palatial bath house. Said bath house is over a mile from the best site on the Island. Across sand and dunes. Nope, I’ve never made the 2-mile roundtrip to that spacious bath house. Never will.
That wag bag bucket has become a critical piece of gear in a few areas.
Even if required gear a pack-it-out toilet system does no good if it isn’t used. Friends came off a toilet-mandatory desert river group trip with tales of one companion’s scatological ill-manners. For reasons best left unexplained (but understandable) each of them brought their own toilet system.
They first noticed that one guy’s campsite would reek of urine before they left. At the end of the trip they noticed that his used wag bag bucket was suspiciously light compared to theirs. He had been urinating on the ground rather than walking down to the river and sneaking off to (I hope at least) dig a cathole.
I had long ago decided never again to trip with him; he left garbage behind when he thought no one was looking, and horded his foodstuffs on a group trip when we were running low, while other were share and share alike feeding him. Don’t even get me started on his constant bumming smokes and hits of weed.
That was a lesson I only needed to learn twice; I believed some excuses the first trip. I would not be surprised if rocks near his site on that desert trip held a decades-to-decay surprise underneath. If fact I’d bet on it.
Seriously, WTF is wrong with people?
Rhetorical question, developing LNT habits may be a learned experience best taught in childhood. At some point it may be too late. A group of (no pun intended) “Who gives a crap” paddlers can destroy a site in short order. Not just human waste and garbage; taking that Boy Scout hatchet and chopping off every green limb within reach.
No apologies for the rant. It is a long damn drive to anyplace truly wilderness for me and I would prefer my more reachable paddling venues not be despoiled. If wishes were fishes I literally wouldn’t have to take that crap.