Instead of hiding behind drawn curtains, closed doors, and fluorescent lighting, the backpacker gazes into the open sky with the sun glowing warmly upon his or her face. A squatter feels the tickle of the grass, the crunching of leaves under hiking boots, and the whoosh of a soaring bird as a cool breeze flows freely through bare and open legs. The very desire to backpack alludes to a natural attempt to reconnect with the ways of our ancestors. As members of the iGeneration, we tend to forget where we came from and how we got here.
Instead of foraging for shoots and tubers, we can shop for groceries online. Everything really is just a click away. But, when we return to our roots, quite literally, the only click we hear is the snapping of a twig under our wandering soles. Mohandas K. Gandhi once said that "to forget how to dig the earth and to tend the soil is to forget ourselves."
The backpacker who digs a hole and dukes in the wide open air has embarked on none other than the greatest path of self-discovery. What better way to reconnect with ourselves than to reconnect with the earth from whence we came? The authors of this column opine that the best way to get in touch with our natural world and ourselves is to give a little of ourselves back to the earth. One behind-a-tree-cat-hole at a time.
Heartier wayward movers know that implicit in an open-sky trek is the forced abstinence of modern amenities the hardcore, indeed, seem to foster an outright disdain for such luxuries as indoor plumbing and hot water.
Five thousand years of human evolution (cue letters to the editor re: our ignorance) have led us to distance ourselves from nature. The less we see of it, the better, especially when we are heeding the call of nature (could there be a less ironic euphemism for this? I think not).
One of very few natural instincts still present in human beings, the evacuation of bodily waste, evidences our bodies' incredible ability to moderate their processes with high regularity and precision.
Instead of celebrating this marvel, modern bathrooms have become a place of seclusion--not only from our comrades, but from the world in whole.
It really takes a trip through the backwoods to truly realize that we had it better before porcelain.
Opinion Column
Get back to nature: listen to its call
The first duke is always the most intense. Nature inevitably calls as you wander along a backwoods hiking trail. The urge is present, the need is immediate. You have to be careful to choose a blocking tree that is far enough off the trail to protect you from potential sightings, but not far enough off that you end up discovering the scary wildlife you had hoped to avoid. With a tree in sight and a sharp, sturdy stick in hand, you brave poison ivy, lizards, snakes and armadillos in order to pop that age-old squat. Digging a hole with the stick, you position yourself and your pants so as to avoid any accidental spillage. As you satisfy your primal urge, you get back to nature, heeding its call once again. You are in touch with your body and nature in a very unique way...
