Pooping?

For many it strikes fear in their hearts. For others, it’s a bit of a novelty, something they’ve heard about and might be a bit curious. Without fail, by the end of a Philmont Trek, most participants speak fondly of pooping in the woods, both the process and the facilities. Many even brag about the best places and the best poops. Part of that is because we are “poop positive” at Philmont, making light of it so that participants don’t hold it in for 12 days and explode.

There is something reassuring about a flush toilet; it’s always in a fixed spot, it’s usually clean (-ish) and it usually doesn’t have an odor (assuming you aren’t second in line). And somehow, using a sink to wash hands is way more refreshing than hand sanitizer.

But the only flush toilets are in basecamp. Not even at staff camps. In fact, during the infamous "Famous Philmont Bus Tour", given by Rangers as crews bus into the backcountry to a trailhead, crews are told to "Wave goodbye to flushing toilets" and "Wave hello to pooping in a hole"!

So, for the insanely curious, here’s how you poop at Philmont.

The most common place is known as a Red Roof Inn. I’m sure the motel company, if they are aware, would be aghast, but maybe the tradition predates them? These are placed somewhat randomly in the backcountry, usually near campsites, and when you hike in and see the roof from a distance, you know you’ve reached some level of civilization. Kinda like spotting the golden arches from the highway. Not all roofs are red, there are a few that have silver roofs or green roofs, but they are all called the same.

A P2B Red Roof Inn, braced against wind. Yes, they can tip over if the gusts are strong enough!

The newest, and now most common format is known as the “Pilot to Bombardier” arrangement, or P2B. These are arranged as two-seaters, but on opposite sides with plenty of walls and privacy. The poopers essentially sit back-to-back with a wall between them, much like a WWII bomber. There is still plenty of air and plenty of opportunity for sharing toilet paper and sharing stories (about the poop usually). Having the roof is nice. Crews have huddled in them during hailstorms. Don't ask me how I know, what happens in a Red Roof Inn ALWAYS stays in the Red Roof Inn.

A defunct P2C at Old Abreu camp. Notice lovely waiting area, unfortunately closed.

The older style is a format known as the “Pilot to Copilot” or P2C. These are also two-hole/two-seaters, but the participants sit right next to one another (yup, like a pilot and copilot!). There is a single entrance which goes into a waiting room. You can wait under a roof for a free seat, very civilized. Except for pooping next to your buddy. That seems like civilization might have taken a step backwards. There are a few of these still in the backcountry and most crews are very excited to find one, though less excited to actually try one with a friend. But it has happened. It does make sharing toilet paper simpler.

A P2C, in rough shape but usable, at Cypher's Mine camp.

In a few locations there are latrines. This might sound better, and they are, but not for the reason you might think. These are also two-holes/two-seats in the P2B configuration, but they have no walls. They are a simple white plastic box with toilet seats and lids bolted to them. They are "better" because they are sometimes placed in a location with a fantastic view. The one most people talk about is the one "on the Tooth of Time". It's not actually on the Tooth, that might be sacrilegious, and certainly disgusting, as the whole Tooth is made of rock ("an igneous intrusion of dacite porphyry" to be exact), but it is on the edge of Tooth Ridge Camp, which is very much nearby. Still a lovely view. But a long line sometimes. A double seater, but usually a single user.

A latrine at Black Mountain camp with a minor view, but some privacy. Unless there are two of you.

Finally, in the absence of this "civilization", and often favored by some, is the infamous cat hole. I have met a few that prefer the hole to the roof. They never explained fully, sometimes it's the smell, sometimes it's the thrill, sometimes it's the privacy, but there are a few that prefer to dig a hole. It does have to be 200 feet from a trail and 6 inches deep, so that takes some planning. We do offer an alternative for those in a hurry, 6 inches from trail and 200 feet deep, but I have yet to see that one done. As long as Mr. Scoopy (the affectionate name for the trowel that digs said hole) doesn't touch the poopy, to each his own. Honestly, using the RRI is a better "leave no trace" option, but if someone wants the thrill and the extra effort, and there aren't that many of them, I say go for it. Pun intended.

When you think about it, a RRI is really just a great big cathole. It just doesn't get covered until it gets full. In fact, it's a great idea to check the level before using, just sayin'.

Last but not least, every returning pooper has to give a score to the quality of their poop. Not the quality of their experience, which often leaves much to be desired (insects a negative, view a positive), but a way to gauge whether things are "moving along". A "1" is troubling, a "10" is legendary. Most are 4 or 5s to start, 7s to 8s as they adjust. Have yet to hear of a true 10, many have claimed, few have been confirmed. Many a scout has had to leave trail due to non-use of an RRI. I always tell them that they can use the RRI, or the poop comes out in basecamp at the infirmary, either mechanically or chemically. In my short 10 trek career, no one has had to leave trail to be roto-rootered! Gold star for me.

It's a dirty job, but Rangers are up to the task.