Well, Shit!

Tomorrow marks three weeks on the road. Those weeks have mostly been filled with shopping, picking up packages, and fast food.

But by the title of this post you may think it’s all about the terrible. Like limping across Nevada on 7 spark plugs, or replacing a radiator in Fresno, or changing a starter in Barstow.

Nope. This post is about shit.

Hey, I get it. Pooping isn’t something that we really want to talk about. However, when ou live in a camper it becomes something that you not only talk about but obsess over.

“When’s the next OXXO?”

“Could I really bring myself to poop on the side of the road?”

I mean, come on, public pooping is hard. I’ve always enjoyed that moment in my house when my body says, “it’s time to poop!”

And I go to my well-appointed bathroom and sit down on a toilet. Maybe I’ll glance at my phone or read the shampoo bottle. Regardless, my whole life has consisted of poop freedom.

Then we hit the road.

According to Will we had a choice of toilet or generator for Moby and he chose the generator. I can’t argue with that; electricity is nice. But what about the pooping?

While we were in the United States it bad. I’d resort to truck stops and Wal-Marts. I shivered and shook as I tried to poop. Oh jeez, what if there are farts involved? What if the person in the stall next to me can hear the plops? What about the smell? What if it’s such a big poop that I have to flush twice?

Then we got to Mexico.

Our first stop had a nice bathroom and few campers. I pooped freely and it was delightful. However, when we left there and headed for our first wild camping stop I panicked.

Fuck.

I should have pooped before we left.

So we arrive at a beautiful, wild place on the coast with nothing around save a guy fishing and a hostel on the hill above us.

And I really need to take a shit.

So, ecological practices be damned, I scaled down the cliff toward the sea and dropped a deuce.

Not pleasant.

I buried it as best I could and scrambled my way back up, hungry for  the wet wipes in the truck.

In short, I can see this trip, in many ways, as finding places to shit. While I definitely don’t want to define it as such it will be a thing.

So yeah. Shit.