We arrived at Vedrica on a beautiful, sunny spring afternoon. The needles on the evergreens in the sun were glowing brightly against the darker forest green of trees in deep shade. Flowers were peeking out between last year’s growth crushed flat by the weight of the winter snow. We walked up and down the overgrown logging roads, still seeking the spot that would become our “Kin’s Domain” (family home site). We passed a lush spring oasis nourishing a wide bench with life-giving water, stinging nettles already leafed out enough to harvest for wild greens.
The weather suddenly changed that evening as we sat around the camp fire with Vedrica’s current campers. The storm front moved in quickly, darkening the star-studded skies, flashes of lightning and rumbling thunder still distant. We hurried back to our pop-up tent trailer to beat the rain. As I stepped inside, I glanced at the “restroom” that had been set up in the “Pioneers’ Place”. Draped only on two sides with old sheets hung on branches tied together, there was no roof to protect one from the rain. This makeshift arrangement had not proved too terribly inconvenient on our last visit when the precipitation was snow — quite cold, but at least snow can be easily brushed off.
Luckily my handy husband, Robert, had sympathized with my feminine foibles and had devoted time to constructing a Loveable Loo according to the detailed instructions outlined in the Humanure Handbook. We brought along six additional cheerful yellow buckets, stopping to fill one with sawdust from the sawmill conveniently located at the entrance to the property on our way in. The toilet fit perfectly in a corner of our pop-up.
Deep in the night I reluctantly crawled out of my warm sleeping bag into the bone-chilling damp night air. The deafening sound of rain splatting on the plastic rooftop muffled any noise I was making. But hey, I at least I was DRY! No fear of bumping into bears or cougars or other creatures of the night! Elated, I gratefully did my thing and covered the evidence with a generous heaping of sawdust. (MUCH better than trying to hold it all night!)
Even after several days of consistent use by two people — #1 and #2 — the sawdust did its magic and prevented any odor from escaping, which was more than welcome while we were enclosed in the tight quarters of the tent trailer on a cold, rainy day. My skepticism has permanently melted into broad smiles every time I use it. The author, Joseph Jenkins, makes the case that our current polluting “septic” systems are the result of an irrational attitude by humanity towards its own waste. I agree completely!
Of course, we have yet to construct a compost bin correctly designed to heat the pile so that undesirable pathogens are destroyed while returning the nutrients into usable garden compost. No problem! That’s why we brought so many buckets. Joseph claims you can store the waste-filled buckets all winter and deal with them when the weather improves, if you prefer, though he processes his all year long. He demonstrates in his videos that even in frigid weather the properly layered pile will maintain sufficient heat all through the winter.
The next evening we beat the rain and cold by moseying up to the Timberline Cafe in nearby Weippe for dinner. I was feeling a bit self-conscious about my attire: two days in the same clothes, mud-covered muck boots, hair matted to my head from wearing a hat 24/7. I needn’t have worried — as we walked in I noticed Sonny stoking the humongous wood stove in his work clothes and muddy boots. I smiled when I heard that the cafe’s main customers are other campers just like us, many of whom will camp all summer deep in the wilderness just past Pierce, the last civilized outpost for miles. Sonny also informed us that the whole town heats with wood, including the businesses.
I used the ladies’ room before leaving — I couldn’t help but notice how strange to pee in our drinking water! I confess, though, that I was glad to be able to wash my hands in RUNNING water — both at the same time! :-)

