10 survival tips for the brave souls who dare to sit upon the throne of doom
Summer Camp! The greatest week of the summer vacation! Summer camp is seven glorious days with no parents, no chores, swimming, hiking, horseback riding and unlimited smores at the campfire.
It’s a week where young scouts will never forget the smell of pine needles, the crackling of the campfire and, who made the questionable stains on the mess hall floor.
But there are some things left unspoken about summer camp. We’ve all experienced the trauma. But we never speak of it outside of camp. It’s PTSD for Tenderfoots. I’m speaking of the camp outhouse.
The K.Y.B.O. (Keep Your Bowles Open). The one central place where one hundred middle school and high school boys share to take their steamiest camp food dumps.
The real test of a Scout’s bravery? Forget tying knots, building a lean-to or surviving a night in the wilderness; the true mark of a seasoned Scout was making it in and out of that wooden deathtrap with all bodily functions and dignity intact, especially after the canteen chili cook off. 💀💨
After years of intense field research (mostly involving holding it until we got back to the cabin), we have compiled the ultimate survival guide. Consider these your merit badges in avoiding unspeakable horrors and contact infections on your ass cheeks.
10 survival tips for the brave souls who dare to sit upon the throne of doom:
1. Never Let Your Ass Cheeks Touch the Seat
Face it, that wooden seat has seen more action than P. Diddy’s baby oil room. To survive, you need to master THE HOVER CRAFT MANEUVER. Seriously, people treat that splintered slab of wood like it’s covered in hot lava… or worse, whatever was there before you. Engage your quads, find your center of gravity, and pray for a quick evacuation. Think of it as an extreme yoga pose, but with significantly higher stakes (and smells).
Here’s where you need to develop the skills of a bomber pilot. Not too high, Not too low. And for God’s sake stay out of the splash zone.
2. Reconnaissance: Before You Commit, Know Thy Pit
This one is difficult, because the warning comes in two parts, pre-entry and pre-committal to actually dropping you payload. At both phases you need to execute a thorough reconnaissance mission
Pre-entry: Spiders, hornets, snakes, frogs, raccoons and serial killers love your crap. Don’t ask me why. Sometimes that shack is less an outhouse and more a wildlife refuge. Kick that door open loudly, shine your flashlight fast, clear the door to give any frightened critter a safe escape, unless you want to become one with nature in the worst possible way.
Pre-payload dispersion:
Yep this one is the worst. But before you commit, you must take a peek. I know it’s gross. But you have to take a look down the hole. Straight into the pit of despair where dozens of your comrades have gone before. We’re talking a quick, strategic glance. You’re looking for anything that might look back: spiders the size of your hand, snakes contemplating their life choices, or the faint glimmer of something… else. Nobody knows what lives down there, but it growls. And sometimes bubbles. If it starts moving, just… run. If you see movement, abort mission. Find a bush. Blame a squirrel.
3. NEVER Be the LAST on Mystery Meat Night
That’s like walking into Chernobyl on Day One. You need to race and beat those other suckers to the pit before them. All friendships are off on this one. You need to go full Mad Max to make sure you’re not fifth in line on this bombing run.
4. Don’t Touch the Walls
Sticky. Slimy. Sweaty. Nobody knows why. The less you touch, the better your chances of survival.
5. Perfect the Hold-Your-Breath Record
The stink cloud in there is like mustard gas mixed with Bigfoot’s armpit. So the The faster you are, the less you die inside.
Prepare yourself mentally and physically. Some seasoned veterans recommend breathing through your mouth (though this has its own risks, namely accidental fly ingestion). Others swear by a dab of something vaguely pleasant under the nose. It may be best to grab an old piece of charcoal from the fire pit and plug up those nostrils. These are desperate times, my friend.
6. Protect Your Headlamp at All Costs
Drop it in the pit and it becomes the camp’s eternal nightlight. Also, your friends will never let you live it down.
7. BYOTP: Be Your Own Toilet Paper Hero
Camp-issue TP is thinner than communion wafers. One wipe and you’re getting the brown finger smear. Don’t risk pinkeye. A personal, roll is your saving factor from uncomfortable ass rash. You also get bonus points if you bring a pack of those scented wipes. Screw it, there are no pipes to clog here. Wipe away. You’re playing chess while everyone else is playing checkers (with questionable hygiene).
8. Don’t Linger: Get In, Get Out, Get On With Your Life.
Get the hell in, get the hell out. That’s the motto of any K.Y.B.O. This is not the place for doom scrolling, scibidi video watching, TikTok-ing or daily word games. This isn’t a five-star spa experience. It’s a survival situation. Efficiency is key. Do your business and evacuate with haste. The longer you stay, the higher the chances of encountering something regrettable.
9. The Tactical Retreat: Know When to Fold ‘Em.
Sometimes, despite your best efforts, the outhouse is simply a no-go zone. Maybe it’s overflowing. Maybe there’s a family of raccoons having a convention inside. Maybe your gut instinct is screaming bloody murder. Listen to it. There’s no shame in a strategic… relocation. The woods are vast.
9. Decontamination Protocol: Act Like It Never Happened.
Once you’ve emerged victorious (or at least alive), resist the urge to recount every gruesome detail to your fellow Scouts. No one wants to hear about the unholy symphony of buzzing insects or the questionable artwork on the walls. Just wash your hands (thoroughly) and move on. It’s for the good of everyone’s mental well-being.
10. Develop a Dark Sense of Humor: Because You’ll Need It.
Let’s face it, the summer camp outhouse is a monument to human (and animal) waste. It’s inherently disgusting and often terrifying. The only way to truly survive it is to laugh. Share your horror stories (after a suitable period of emotional recovery). Bond over the shared trauma. And remember, if you can conquer the outhouse, you can conquer anything.
Final Thought
Forget the Eagle badge, real Scouts earn their stripes here. Surviving the summer camp outhouse is the true rite of passage.
💬 Your turn: Did you master the “breath-holding world record” or MacGyver your way out of TP shortages?. The stink never truly leaves us. Share your outhouse horror stories below 💀💨👇
