Today the wind is blowing in just the right direction to present me with the lovely aroma of burning excrement. Yes, out here away from the lovely invention of plumbing and septic systems lies the land of burning pits of poo. This is our way of continuing our “doodies” without creating disease and plague. Some may not find this topic particularly tasteful, but I shall tell it nonetheless, as I have been tasked to give you an idea of what it is like out here, and I would be robbing you of a large portion of our environment if I were not to write about it.
Yes, out here the closest you'll get to a toilet is the seat, if you're lucky. A toilet seat sitting atop a wooden box of some sort with a cut-out hole. Need to call a meeting with Mother Nature? You go get yourself a “wag-bag” which is made by a variety of companies. I am partial to the “Dispose-a-John” myself, but to each his own. Each is made a bit differently, but all utilize the basic concept of a plastic bag which fits over the toilet seat and hangs down through the hole. I will trust that I need not describe the rest of the process as I am sure you get the idea. When finished you close up your wag-bag by whatever means the individual creator provided you, and you take it to the burn pit, which is a large dugout pit for burning garbage and wag-bags. There is nothing like carrying around a bag of your own poo. Everyone should experience this. It is very humbling.