Pictures Of Outhouses And Some Outhouse Stories, Too

Though my dad always dreamed of living off the grid, in the mountains (which he eventually got to do), the reality when I was a child was we were all stuck in the big city of Chicago. Wanting to be as close to nature as possible, we would sometimes go off camping in Michigan to get away...but my dad was a Chicago homicide detective, so he only got weekends off on a rotating schedule, about every 6 weeks.

To be as close to the "wild" in the big city, we spent most nice weather at the forest preserves. Sure it was a far cry from camping or the west, but it had to do. Back then, outhouses were it as far as bathrooms were concerned. There were water pumps/wells for water and an outhouse for bathroom use.

My grandparents would always be a part of these picnics - and they would find a spot close to the outhouse, early in the morning, so no one would take it (not wanting to drive or walk a long way to use the bathroom). All I can remember is that these outhouses stunk to high heaven. They were full of bugs, poorly maintained and I would nearly pass out from holding my breath the entire time!

My dad and his wife, as I've mentioned in other articles, live off the grid on the western boundary of Glacier National Park, Montana. Just last week there was a grizzly in their front yard, and that wasn't the first time, of course.

Years ago, she was taking her dog for a long walk. She went down their "driveway" and onto the main dirt road (a road to nowhere except 50 miles south to town). She proceeded to walk with her dog down the main road and got to the part of the road that is in dense forest. As you can probably guess, a grizzly bear came out of the woods AFTER they had walked by.

So now she has a big dilemma. She cannot go up or down, because this segment of road has a steep bluff down into the woods, and an impossible climb up a mountainside. She also cannot walk toward the bear, who is now between her and the walk back to her home. But you aren't supposed to retreat either. With no other options, she slowly retreated.

The bear followed them down the road. Her dog, getting older, fortunately did not seem to respond to the bear, which could have instigated real trouble. She and her dog just kept walking and walking. She knew, in about one half mile, she would reach possible safety at the forest service cabin.

She made it there and immediately went inside the small outhouse, with her dog. As "luck" would have it, the grizzly decided this would be a great place to hang out and graze...for HOURS. Of course by now, my dad is getting worried and gets on the marine band radio to call for "neighbors" to help search for her. They come up empty handed...no one finds her.

Hours later, the bear finally goes away and my stepmom decides she must take the chance to get back home. She does make it home safely, where she ends up in bed for days from a serious migraine that hits, once home safe and sound.

When my father bought his land and began building, it was in the 80s. Yet he didn't get to retire and move there full time until the late 90s. He would save all of his vacation time and go up to the property, clearing forest and preparing for the cabin, one little step at a time.

His new "neighbors" who only spent summers up there offered my dad their cabin to use as his home base during his visits, because my dad couldn't get the long time off in summers...so no one would be using the cabin in fall.

It was a cute little cabin, with an outhouse quite a distance from the front door. I would often come up for a week during my dad's long 4-6 week vacation. Years later, when my dad had a basic structure in place, he had his own outhouse. You see where this is going, right?

I don't understand the psychology of it, but if I were at home or if either of those cabins had had indoor plumbing and a toilet, I wouldn't give using the restroom at night a second thought - and most likely would never need to.

But in grizzly country, knowing they are out there in the pitch darkness - and all you have is a flashlight...guarantee that nature calls...every single time. This means you step out into the dark of night and walk the path to the outhouse. Feeling safe once inside...and tempted to just bring a pillow and blanket along...and stay put!

I wish my grandfather was still alive, so I could ask him to share this story himself...but he passed away in 2010...nearly 90 years old and sharp as a tack! He grew up having a hard life, in rural Virginia...jumping a train in his teens that took him to Chicago, where he remained.

When he would reflect on his youth, it was always with a sense of humor. Again...I wish I'd written down this story, but the basic theme is that he was playing around as a young child and ended up falling in an outhouse!! I'm sure it wasn't funny, but he laughed as he told it...as he did with everything else.

This poster below reminds me of my grandfather...a small boy running to the outhouse.

Back in my youth, the outhouses were a wooden "bench" with a hole cut out as your "seat." Not the most sanitary things around, for sure!

Today, not only are there porta-potties that can be moved around for parties and festivals, even the outhouses in the national forests are amazing! They are large, spacious areas (still for one person at a time), with concrete floors and a "toilet seat" for comfort, like you would sit on at home, though still a pit underneath. Often there isn't even odor. They are no longer a horrific, dreaded experience...and this is in rural, mountainous areas...quite a change!

It never failed...from where we lived, it was about 40 miles to the start of the main road up to my dad's cabin, then another 50 miles through the mountains to reach his home. My daughter, of course, never had to use the bathroom while in town...where a gas station could do the trick. We would always ask before leaving civilization if she had to go and, of course, it was always "no."

Usually a chatterbox at the start of the ride, the slow climb up the bouncy dirt road (at a slow pace) would often lull her to sleep. But no matter what, no matter when, she would always have to go at some point.

In Montana, it gets dark early during the fall through spring...so often it was evening when this would happen...in the remote wilderness...with wildlife out there, though unseen. However, about 30 minutes prior to my dad's, there is a tiny "town" with just a mercantile store, a little place to eat (rarely open for business) and some surrounding cabins. It has a public outhouse...if you can call it that.

It is quite a walk to that outhouse and you always need your own toilet paper (and a flashlight, because the car headlights only go so far). Plus keep in mind it is chilly in the evenings...so off we would walk to the outhouse, not able to make the next 30 minutes to grandpa's cabin. To make it even more entertaining, this broken down outhouse is very small, and it has a glass window, where anyone can see inside! Often I would just keep the door open, because we both couldn't fit...and I wasn't going to leave my daughter in there in the dark, alone.

Now we live in an rv, taking our toilet with us wherever we go...THAT would have been handy!

Kids never have to go until there is no bathroom facility in sight, do they?