Bunch or Fold (or Neither)? 

Human Waste Disposal in the Backcountry

 

One of the first questions Outward Bound instructors Jo-Lynne DiNapoli and Scott McAndrews ask when meeting students at the beginning of a course is “toilet paper: bunch or fold?”  While they pose the question mostly to add a little bit of levity to the typical “get-to-know-you” activities that are necessary when a new group arrives, it also serves as a lead in to a topic that many students find taboo: human waste disposal in the backcountry.[1]  Fortunately, since most students don’t know and are too squeamish to ask what to do when they have to go and they’re three hiking days away from a toilet, the two instructors have no problem discussing how to survive when nature calls.  On the flip side, however, students on outdoor courses through Outward Bound, the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS), and other similar programs make up only a fraction of all the people who venture out into the wilderness.  Many of these recreationists have little or no education about minimum-impact practices, and often they assume they can just do their business, bury it toilet paper and all, and nature will take its course in getting rid of it.  Unfortunately this is not the case.  Human waste disposal in the backcountry is actually much more complicated than simply finding a big tree to hide behind; certain precautions must be taken and specific procedures must be followed to prevent causing serious health problems and degradation of the wilderness’ natural beauty.   

Over the last few decades, recreation in National Parks, National Forests, and wilderness areas has increased drastically (there were 900 million recreational visits to National Forests in 1999 compared with 4.6 million in 1924) as the popularity of activities such as camping, backpacking, rock climbing, rafting, canoeing, and kayaking has grown (Marion & Reid, 2001).  With increased use comes an inevitable increased impact on the land.  While some kinds of impact—such vegetation destruction from camping or hiking—can be easily regulated by having people stay on trails and camp in established sites, human waste presents a challenge because of the stigma many people attach to the thought of their own excrement.  Human waste, however, is probably one of the more important impacts to consider because it can cause contamination of water sources and turn a pristine landscape into an unsightly mess (Meyer, 1989). 

Though different activities require some modifications, some generally accepted practices for dealing with human waste in the backcountry have been developed over the last 25 years by organizations such as Leave No Trace and the U.S. Forest Service.  These organizations have worked with others such as the Boy Scouts of America and NOLS to further education and research into minimum-impact practices (Marion and Reid, 2001).  David Cole, a research biologist for the National Forest Service who has done extensive work on wilderness management and recreation effects, outlines the commonly accepted guidelines for human waste disposal in his 1989 paper, “Low-Impact Recreational Practices for Wilderness and Backcountry.”  Kathleen Meyer offers many of the same suggestions but takes a more lighthearted approach in her book How to Shit in the Woods (1989).  Both Cole and Meyer base their suggestions on the goal of addressing the two biggest concerns with human waste disposal in the backcountry: disease and aesthetics. 

Human feces can carry over 100 different pathogens, including bacteria, protozoans, and viruses.  Among these, two of the most serious concerns are the protozoans Giardia lamblia and Cryptosporidium parvum, both of which can infect humans through contaminated water and cause, among other symptoms, severe abdominal discomfort and diarrhea (Cilimburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000).  Several studies have found that increased human presence is correlated with increased water contamination from Giardia and Cryptosporidium ; one study, conducted in the Sierra Nevada, revealed Giardia cysts in 27 out of 78 water samples, with most of the contaminated samples coming from points just downstream from popular campsites (Climburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000; Cole 1989).  The number of Giardia cases reported by backcountry recreationists has also increased in recent decades, though it is not certain whether Giardia was misdiagnosed before the first case appeared in Colorado in 1970, or whether instances of the disease have increased along with backcountry use (Meyer, 1989).   However, from years of working as a river guide and drinking straight from streams and rivers without getting sick, Meyer believes the latter (1989).   

Though water can be treated with chemicals or filtered to remove contaminants, it is still extremely important to minimize the amount of contamination that does occur since these methods may not be able to remove all viruses or, in some cases, even Cryptosporidium (Climburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000).  For this reason, where and how a recreationist decides to relive himself is extremely important (Cole, 1989; Meyer, 1989).  The NOLS guidelines on minimum-impact practices suggest that one should hike at least 200 feet from trails, campsites, and most importantly water sources, then dig a hole 6-8 inches deep using a small trowel (Cole, 1989).  After making use of the hole, commonly called a cat hole, one should use a stick to mix the excrement with some soil to aid in decomposition, and then cover it over with several inches of soil to prevent attracting insects and animals that can spread disease (Climburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000).  Meyer (1989) also suggests that when choosing a site, particularly while traveling through canyons, one should consider not only where water sources are, but where water could be in the event of a flood.  The same applies when traveling in the mountains; care should be taken to avoid gullies where water runoff or snow melt could wash pathogens down into streams (Climburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000).  The spot chosen should also be relatively dry, since wet soil has been shown to prolong the life of any pathogens present and slow the decomposition process (Cole, 1989).  Studies have shown that if care is taken to choose an appropriate place to dig the cat hole, any contaminants from the fecal matter will only spread a few feet if the soil stays relatively dry (Climburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000).  An exception is in soil that contains a large proportion of clay, which can actually encourage runoff and allow water containing pathogens to seep into shallow groundwater sources (Climburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000).

Cole and Meyer also address the use of toilet paper in their guidelines for minimum impact.  Even after people started taking care to find a suitable spot to do their business, it was common practice to simply bury the toilet paper along with the feces assuming that it would decompose.  Although Buckley (n.d.) found that toilet paper will decompose if it makes up less than 25 percent of the total waste that is buried, it is not uncommon for animals to dig it up before it has been broken down, causing unsightly litter problems (Meyer, 1989).  Toilet paper may also contain chemicals and dyes that could be harmful to animals and to the environment (Cole 1989).  Though he calls burying toilet paper a “less desirable alternative, but accepted practice in many places,” Cole (1989) suggests burning it or packing it out.  Meyer, however, feels that it is only acceptable to pack toilet paper out, no matter how undesirable the practice may seem.  She cites the environmental impacts of fires—the use of wood in areas where it may be scarce, the scar left on the earth from the fire, and air pollution from the smoke—as reasons not to burn it (1989).  In addition, burn bans are enforced in many areas with dry climates or in alpine zones where wood is scarce, so burning waste may not even be an option.  If the idea of packing toilet paper out seems repulsive, another possibility, even more environmentally friendly than using toilet paper in the first place, is to simply take advantage of nature’s toilet paper—leaves, smooth rocks and sticks, snowballs, or even pine needles and pine cones—and bury it in the cat hole along with the poop.  This method is suggested by Meyer (1989) and by Outward Bound instructors DiNapoli and McAndrews.

While digging carefully placed cat holes and packing out (or not using any) toilet paper are general rules for environmentally sound ways to dispose of human waste in the backcountry, in some situations, such as big-wall rock climbing, high altitude mountaineering, glacier or snow travel, river trips through narrow canyons, or in areas of extremely high use, these practices may be impractical or even impossible. 

Notorious for being the renegades of the outdoor world with the fewest standard ethical procedures, it was not uncommon for rock climbers of the past (and even for some of today) to simply drop their pants from underneath their harnesses and let it fly while on big-wall climbs (climbs such as Half Dome in Yosemite, which take multiple days to complete) (Meyer, 1989).  Climber and writer Greg Child even went so far as to coin the term “mud falcon” to describe the paper bags filled with poop and (occasionally) kitty litter that climbers tossed off of cliffs (Synnott, 2000).  However, imminent cliff closures and a more mature climbing crowd are bringing a heightened sense of ethics and environmentalism to the climbing community, and most climbers (some of whom even profess to have been hit on the head by a mud falcon gone awry) now find this practice completely unacceptable and instead pack out all of their waste instead of just the toilet paper (Meyer, 1989).  The most common practices for “packing-it-out” include the poop tube method, which was developed in Yosemite and is now mandatory on all climbs in the park, or the blue-bag method, named for the blue bags that are sometimes required on some glacier routes in national parks (Graydon & Hanson, 1997).  Using the poop tube method, climbers essentially make a mud falcon, but instead of tossing it off the cliff they put it inside a plastic tube (which can be home-made from a section of four-inch PVC pipe) which is then hauled up the climb with the rest of their gear (Graydon & Hanson, 1997).  The blue-bag method is simply a system of double bagging the feces to pack it out.  In both cases, only the packed-out poop should be disposed of in a toilet (not a dumpster) back in the front country; paper and plastic bags should be disposed of in the trash (Graydon & Hanson, 1997; Lachapelle, 2000).

An alternative to the pack-it-out method that can sometimes be used on very remote rock climbs is the smearing technique, though this practice is more often used when mountaineering above tree line where soil is scare (Graydon & Hanson, 1997).  Smearing, as the name implies, requires using a rock to smear the fecal matter on a flat surface, relying on the idea that spreading the poop out will help it to biodegrade faster and shorten the life-span of any pathogens (Cilimburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000).  The technique is only appropriate in very low-use areas where the feces can be spread on a surface that will stay dry and receive a great deal of sunlight (Graydon & Hanson, 1997; Cilimburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000). 

Travel on glaciers and snow presents unique challenges for the disposal of human waste.  Digging a cat hole is often difficult on hard-packed snow and out of the question on a glacier, and though the smear technique can occasionally be used, water runoff during snowmelt must be considered (Cole, 1989).  On glaciers, common practice has been to dig a group latrine near the campsite, then dispose of the waste into a crevasse (Cilimburg, Monz, & Kehoe).  However, this method is being challenged in some locations where waste build-up has become noticeable; this year, the American Alpine Club gave Denali National Park $4,000 to buy heavy-duty plastic cans to be used as an alternative to the practice of throwing bags of human waste into the glacier’s crevasses, citing that some climbers are beginning to notice specific “trash crevasses” (Outdoor Retailer, 2002). 

River trips present yet another scenario where packing-it-out is probably the best method (Lachapelle, 2000).  In narrow canyons, it can be difficult to find a suitable cat hole site, and the idea of transporting waste in boats may be more suitable than in backpacks, thereby making packing-it-out a viable option.  One method is to simply get a sturdy container such as an ammunition box, line it with paper and have everyone use the blue-bag method and then put the bags in the container (Lachapelle, 2000).  On commercial rafting trips, another popular option is a small port-a-potty style toilet that can be sealed during the day’s trip and then set up in camp to be used by the entire group (Lachapelle, 2000). 

Even where it is possible to dig adequate cat holes, pack-it-out is becoming the encouraged method of human waste disposal in some areas that receive very high use (Meyer, 1989).  The number of National Park Service mangers reporting that inadequate or improper disposal of human waste is a problem in their backcountry areas has grown in recent years, and recreationists report in surveys that it is never acceptable to find evidence of human waste from people who have previously traveled in the area (Cilimburg, Monz, & Kehoe, 2000; Lachapelle, 2000).  At the same time, many recreationists and land managers don’t want to see toilets built in wilderness areas; they feel that the construction of such facilities, no matter how much they might lessen the effects of human waste, would create a paradox since any construction would automatically have just as significant an impact on the land (Lachapelle, 2000).  Unless packing-it-out becomes the widely accepted standard in high-use areas, however, this paradox is one that land managers will have to face more often as wilderness use continues to increase. 

Minimum-impact practice for human waste disposal in the backcountry is a complex issue, one that is complicated by the logistics of disposal related to different activities as well as drastically different ecosystems that are affected in various ways by human waste.  While there are some general rules for environmentally friendly waste disposal, in many cases the method used is entirely situation-dependent.  To ensure that the impact from human waste on an area is minimized, land managers must encourage research to determine the best methods for disposal and then work to educate land users on acceptable practices for the area.  Recreationists also must take it upon themselves to learn about the ecosystem where they will be traveling and prepare for human waste disposal accordingly.  Though practices such as packing-it-out (either toilet paper or everything), using natural alternatives to toilet paper, and smearing may seem unpleasant, anyone who wishes to explore the backcountry needs to be willing to make use of them if necessary.  “Poo,” as Outward Bound instructors Jo-Lynne and Scott would call it, is a natural part of living, and with a little effort can be dealt with in a way that won’t affect the health of others or the aesthetics of the wilderness.  And the bunch or fold question becomes a moot point when you learn not to use any. 
Works Cited

Alpine Club promotes reusable waste removal cans.  (2002, April).  Outdoor Retailer, 17. 

 

Buckley, R.  (no date).  Breakdown of human waste in three subtropical Australian ecosystems.  NOLS Research.  Retrieved April 23, 2002, from http://www.lnt.org

 

Cilimburg, A., Monz, C., & Kehoe, S.  (2000).  Wildland recreation and human waste: a review of problems, practices, and concerns.  Environmental Management, 25, (6),  587-598.  Retrieved April 23, 2002, from http://research.nols.edu/PDFdocs/humanwastepaper.pdf

 

Cole, D.  (1989).  Low-impact recreational practices for wilderness and backcountry.  Wilderness Information Network.  Retrieved April 23, 2002, from http://www.wilderness.net/pubs/183.pdf

 

Graydon, D., & Hanson, K.  (1997).  Mountaineering: the freedom of the hills (6^th ed.).  Seattle: The Mountaineers.

 

Lachapelle, P.  (2000).  Sanitation in wilderness: balancing minimum tool policies and wilderness values.  USDA Forest Service Proceedings.  Retrieved April 25, 2002, from http://research.nols.edu/wild_instructor_pdfs/Lachapelle.pdf

 

Marion, J., & Reid, S.  Development of the U.S. Leave No Trace program: an historical perspective.  Leave No Trace.  Retrieved April 23, 2002, from http://www.lnt.org/LNTHistoryPaper.pdf

 

Meyer, K.  (1989).  How to shit in the woods: an environmentally sound approach to a lost art.  Berkeley, CA: Ten Speed Press.

 

Synnott, M.  (2000, August).  Waste Not, Want Not.  Outside.  40.