Sunday, August 23, 2009

Final Rock Creek Chronicle


The first trip to the outhouse is dreaded.
The cantaloupe sized hole at the base of the antique structure is the thing I always notice first, it's the entrance to some small animal's home. Dear Lord, what poor, dumb creature would choose to build their home next to the outhouse pit?
The outhouses at Rock Creek are not the sleek, sky-lighted outhouses seen at many newer campgrounds, the ones with an exhaust system designed by some engineering student at Stanford, with stainless steel toilets and no discernible odor. No, the outhouses at Rock Creek are made of brown stained wood. To offer some aeration and light, the perimeter of the ceiling is covered, between 2x4 studs, with 10" of ancient screening, adorned with occasional holes that look as if a fly attempted to gain entry with a tiny hack-saw. But most of them just enter by way of the squeaky door. One of my fears is, having settled my bare butt on the time worn toilet seat, a fly will actually land on my nether regions!
If the other campers would simply close the lid when they have finished their business, it would help with the smell and fly situation, but in order to do so, you must reach across the gaping maw of hideousness to reach the lid resting against the back wall and, much like a person attempting to scale a tall mountain, you must assiduously avoid looking down. "Whatever you do, don't look down!"
I try to "go" as quickly as possible because I can only hold my breath for so long. I guess I should practice my breath holding skills for a couple of weeks before our trip. I know that there are people in the world, much less fortunate than I, who would be grateful to have a reasonably clean, although smelly outhouse in which to do their business and I try to think of my lucky state, but it doesn't help much.
The locks on the doors, broken, have been replaced by hook and eye closures, also broken. So, to facilitate privacy, a big rock is provided to push up against the door. The rock, interestingly enough, resembles a giant, petrified, cow pie. Fitting, I think.

6 comments:

Breezy said...

ewwwwww.. outhouses are the worst!

The Cardin's said...

Your post takes me back to the outhouse at my grandparents cabin -- ohhhh the memories!!!! :-)

lifeinredshoes said...

Thank you for reminding me of that horrid stench, it will be with for the remainder of the night ;)

Life is good! said...

ok ok i get the hint, i will go and clean my bathroom, i have company coming over in a few minutes anyway!

design gal said...

oh man...going at night was the worst!

Angela said...

I feel like this in my very own bathroom sometimes! I have four little boys and one "big boy" AKA Dad! LOL!