The Crapper - The Amators Adventure Club

The Crapper

How do you make a tissue dance?  Put a little boogie in it.

These last few days have been a little trying.  We’re running away from cold and colds.


Let’s be clear – this isn’t always smiles and exploring.  Wouldn’t change it for the world… but to keep it real, there are small pockets of total suckage.

Evie developed a slight fever and a runny nose.  She used up all the tissues.  Jack was a day behind her.  His included  a raspy cough when he’s sleeping.  When I get one kid down at night, the other wakes up… and it goes like that all… night… long.  That means the bear is lurking within.

There aren’t enough BoogieWipes in the world to take care of the mountain of snot I’m managing.  How do 2 little people produce so much of something?!  And why do they use their sleeves no matter how many times I gag and offer tissues?!  It’s just so obviously revolting – I don’t get it.  Sometimes I miss being around adults.

We’re pressing through western Texas.  I floated the idea of Big Bend National Park but there’s zero Verizon coverage down there.  Scott has a lot of work this week, so that’s a non-starter.

My heart is whispering, “Go to Mexico… Mexico…..”  But… for various reasons… it’s not meant to be right now.  We’ve decided to head to the gulf…. exactly where is TBD.  Requirement 1: It must be warm.

As we make our way, we’re looking for interesting stops.  It’s just that there aren’t many here.  Now Texans…. simmer down.  I’m not suggesting that Texas isn’t the best, biggest, brightest state.  It’s just that you guys have A LOT of land and most of it (at least in western Texas) is either unused or used something that isn’t immediately obvious.  That makes driving long.

However, there was one moment that stands out.

We were cruising down lonely Rt 10.  Just outside of Junction, TX there is a rest area.  The rest area offers a free dump station and potable water.  Whatever you do, do not use it.  Ever.  Just keep driving.  Pay $10 to dump if you have to.  Trust me.

We had been dry camping for 4 or 5 nights now so we were ready to unload and reload.  The rest area seemed like a great way to do that on the fly.  We pulled up. I got the water hose out for the potable water.  As Scott was setting-up the grey/black hose, he kicked a thick dry film on the ground.  Disgusted, he said,  “Someone must have cleaned out an animal hauler.  Nice {sarcastic}.”

He started dumping.  Everything went fine at for the first second or two… then suddenly the hose bucked and reared up into the air 2 ft, a horrible brown volcano erupting from it.

I’m not sure I can describe the series of events that happened next with enough detail to really bring it home…. but I’ll try.  I gasped.  Scott started moving… at first to try to grab the head of the hose to put it back in place.  Realizing that the actual hole in the ground was full vice a problem with our hose, he switched gears and got back to the Chief to slam the valve shut.  Meanwhile, I started out laughing… a deep, startled, highly entertained series of deep gawfaws.  Big mistake.  Huge.  I was sucking in air like a commercial grade vacuum when the wave of putrid poo smell hit…. and she hit hard.  Laughter turned into gagging mid laugh.  Tears were streaming out of me.  My snot was 10x worse than the kids and you can be damn sure… I tried to use my sleeve to wipe it away.  Scott, wide eyed and with sincere urgency, “Hose me down.  Damn it!  Hose me down!!”  I couldn’t move.  I still laugh thinking about it.

Thankfully, after a moment to take stock, it turned out Scott didn’t actually have any poo on him.  The black tank hose did.  The ground did.  The Chief did.  But Scott managed to escape a really bad situation (his speciality).

As the muck very slowly drained away while we were cleaning up, Scott’s first words to me were measured, “Well, I guess we know what that film was now, don’t we?  We’re going to have to find another place to dump.”  Indeed.

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Traci Warren