When Nature Calls: The Surprising Lesson from a Desert Dilemma

The early December sun was beating down mercilessly, as if it had a personal vendetta against the idea of comfort. The breeze, not even a little bit refreshing, rattled the dry Nevada scrub with what I could only describe as a sound akin to nature nervously clearing its throat. Add to that the melodic morning calls of the birds and the not-so-distant chatter of hikers, and you could say my sensory overload had begun. It might seem as though I was having an existential crisis or an adventure worthy of a nature documentary, but no, dear reader—I found myself wedged behind a semicircle of rocks, and I was, quite literally, taking a shit.

Now, before your mind wanders too far into the depths of the absurd, let me assure you that this particular experience was really spectacular in its own way. It felt delightful yet perilous, exhilarating yet grossly inconvenient. You see, it was my first foray into the art of pooping outside, aided by a lovely little invention known as a WAG bag, courtesy of the Southern Nevada Climber’s Coalition. And let me just say, I had never felt quite so alive—despite the obvious pungency of my situation.

This moment occurred several years ago, yet I often find myself reminiscing about it, somewhat fondly. I hadn’t exactly planned on needing to engage in such an activity amidst the great outdoors that day. However, much like the best laid plans of mice and men (and hikers), I soon found myself crouched down, attempting to stay as inconspicuous as a rock. The urgent need hit me out of nowhere, and I hastily blamed the oversized coffee I had guzzled on the drive over. Panic struck—this was no time for explanations or apologies to my fellow adventurers as I threw my boyfriend a glance that clearly communicated both embarrassment and resignation before I darted downwind.

After a brief, sweaty treasure hunt for a suitable spot, aided by the desperate prayer that I could avoid a nature-loving audience, I found my oasis. I opened my WAG bag with a theatrical flourish and went about my very real business. All the stresses of adult life faded away, replaced by a sense of fragile serenity. In those glorious, albeit awkward minutes, my mind withdrew from its usual chatter and turned into a keen observer of the delightful chaos surrounding me. The sun felt unbearably hot, and the birds were most certainly having a loud party that day. Most importantly, I realized that among the grand scheme of life, I—like all the other creatures using this canyon as their personal restroom—was but a tiny blip on the radar.

Dear reader, it took an urgent bowel movement to extract me from my self-importance and gently remind me of my relative insignificance in this vast world. I pulled my pants up, sealed my bag, and scampered back to my group, somewhat unceremoniously. Yes, I carried that full WAG bag until we bid goodbye to the beautiful evening. A gentle reminder for all of us: leave no trace, people!

If you’re seasoned in the world of camping or hiking, pooping outdoors might be as ordinary as morning coffee to you. But if you’re a novice, the thought of doing your business under the open sky can be as daunting as, well, doing it in a public restroom. Let me assure you, as someone who had no prior expectations—nor dread about squatting in the wild—it was a surprisingly delightful experience that I wouldn’t hesitate to repeat, as long as someone remembers the toilet paper. I’d certainly be singing another tune if I’d been interrupted mid-poo, but let's not digress.

It’s a widely held belief that people turn to nature to discover themselves. Sure, you may feel a sense of awe hiking through majestic mountains or standing before the crashing ocean waves, but I found mine—humble and unfiltered—while utilizing nature’s facilities. Next time you venture into the great outdoors, I sincerely hope you experience even a fraction of the mental clarity overflowing from my unexpected al fresco moment. And if that means embracing the WAG bag experience, then by all means, do so!