Friends, there’s something important we need to discuss and it has to do with your bowel movements in the great outdoors (no, not the blood, that you need to discuss with a medical professional).
If you’re someone who enjoys (or at least partakes in) using dry (or moist) paper products to clean your genitals post-waste expulsion, you should not be leaving this paper behind in the wilderness (no, not even if you’re burying it).
Why? Because fuck having to look at your used toilet paper on the side of the trail (and you, being the very beautiful and educated user of the outdoors that you are, need to set a good example for everyone else).
Sure, under some circumstances toilet paper decomposes, but this is not always the case. Simply burying your toilet paper does not mean it’s never going to be seen again. And let’s be honest, emergencies and/or less-than-ideal bathroom situations happen, and you are not always able to dig a fantastic cat hole (6 in / 152 mm deep and 200 ft / 60m away from water, camp, and trails) to deposit your waste (let alone, your paper) into.
Carrying around used toilet paper in my backpack? That’s disgusting!
No, packing out your used toilet paper is not as disgusting or terrible a chore as you may imagine (unless you’re a crumpler – start folding, you savage). Get yourself two Ziploc bags, one placed inside the other, to store and pack out used toilet paper. It’s not difficult, friends (and it doesn’t smell either).
If you’re anti-Ziploc bags, I am sure you already have a solution to the toilet paper problem (leaves? snow? smooth stones?) and we would all love to hear about your solution in the comments below.
If you’re reading this, then you’re probably already an awesome person who hikes around with unclean toilet paper in their backpack (or maybe you bidet with a carefully placed water bottle squirt).
Do the world a favor and spread the gospel of toilet-paper-packing-out and encourage others to do the same (or be a legend and follow them into the bushes to clean up after them).
With trails like the Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide Trail becoming more popular (especially among those less-experienced hikers who are probably going to end up dying), the impacts of increased use are a real risk; you don’t want those first 100 miles of hiking to turn into a poo-filled minefield, do you?