I learned how to pee in the woods at a very young age. My Dad taught me.
My father was a professor at Shippensburg State College, now Shippensburg University, in south central Pennsylvania. He was also a contemplative fly fisherman and spent numerous hours on the beautiful limestone streams in the area.
I was six years old when my Dad first put a fly rod into my hands. In the beginning I fished with worms. I wasn’t afraid of worms, but my chubby little hands resisted pushing the hook through their squirming body. Of course, when I went fishing with Dad, he got very little fishing done. Most of his fishing consisted of removing the hook from everything I caught! – trees, clothing, branches, grass, barbed-wired fences, my hair, and an occasional fish.
Eventually my attention would turn to other things. It was fun exploring along the shoreline, checking out the cows in the field, and poking sticks into the oozy cow piles.
And, being only 6 years old, my bladder was kind of small.
“Dad, I have to pee!”
My Dad went with the “flow” and told me it was OK to pee in the woods. He was a man of great decorum, so he never looked. After all, he was a respected college professor.
Naturally, this habit has stayed with me all my life. Being his daughter, I was raised to love the outdoors, and I’ve spent much of my life either riding my horse on the trails, photographing landscapes, or walking in the woods with my dogs. And like a six-year-old, my “mature” bladder reminds me frequently that it needs to be emptied.
And I still pee in the woods. Nothing to it!
The birds and bees think it is a cinematic event to behold the fanny of a 69-year-old woman. The squirrels sit in the trees and chuckle and chatter hysterically.
But there’s a method to the process which I’ve refined over these many years.
First, a suitable location must be found. Little alcoves among dense underbrush are perfect. Then, one must spot all directions to be certain no humans are approaching. Once total privacy has been assured, then it’s time to drop the pants and squat. (Men have it so much easier!) The squat position takes well developed thigh muscles, and the pants must be pulled forward to stay dry.
Then pee. . . ahhhhhhhh
It helps to have Kleenex in your pocket and a doggy bag for the disposal of the Kleenex. Nothing like peeing in the woods when you’re a mile from your car!
The dogs? They’re used to it. They’ve seen the show too often to find it entertaining.
PS: Be sure you’re not squatting in poison ivy! *photograph was taken at Tyler State Park