Attack Of The Brown Trout

Posted 02.23.2007 by Brown Bomber (16)

One glorious summer day, my brother and I headed into the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Our goal was to relax and fish in a spot he knew about -- a spot that he thought was ideal. Off the beaten path, he promised. It was not only a great fishing hole, but it was secluded and not marked on any maps nor mentioned on any road signs.

So we headed up onto ever-narrowing and winding roads until we left pavement and bumped our way for a few miles down a track that you would think only a 4x4 or a heavy-duty two-wheel-drive could get down. We finally rounded the last bend and beheld a pair of vans parked in the shade of a copse of pine trees. These were the kind of vans that you see at the swap meet -- you know, with the plastic wind deflectors on the doorsills, the extra orange lights on the roof, and gaudy running boards.

You wouldn't think you could fit thirty-plus people into two 1986 Chevy vans, but before us was exactly that. Along with ten or twelve children screaming and splashing in the pristine mountain waters were adults bathing and hanging laundry in the branches of the smaller pines and manzanita. The look on my brother's face was priceless. He uttered a few choice words as we were forced to continue up the road, not knowing where it would lead us.

Turns out we found a pretty good little spot just upstream of the swap meet, far enough that we couldn't hear or see them. Our spot had two main forks of the stream: one that came through a sort of a slot in a mini-canyon with granite walls about six or eight feet high, and one that was slower moving but still rather deep, with a large boulder standing in the middle of the branch.

We fished a while and caught some small trout that we put back. All the while my brother griped about the people and how they had ruined the spot for him.

Eventually we got in the water to escape the heat. About this time I began to feel the call of the wild; and the pull of nature inspired me to build my own mountain, sort of. At this time I wasn't very proficient at shitting in the woods, so, after some discussion, I went behind the boulder for privacy and removed my pants. I found a good position so I could put my hands on the streambed and lift my legs up out of the way and hopefully let the current do the flushing.

Everything came out smoothly and with surprisingly little effort. Due the absence of a drop into the confines of a bowl there was no breakage -- and I was soon the proud father of a beautiful foot-long brown trout. What I hadn't counted on was the floatation factor: my turd immediately bobbed to the surface. And with my body blocking the current, it hung in front of me just a few inches away.

I panicked and backed away from it, but some law of physics was against me -- the displacement my body made in the water pulled it after me! I kept backing away with my hands on the streambed and my legs still helplessly spread apart. I wanted to use my legs to swim away, but I couldn't risk contact with the mighty brown battleship on my tail.

I scrambled some more with my hands, shrieking in fear. Finally I made a desperate thrust with my left leg against the boulder, pushing myself sideways out of the channel. This was my make-or-break move -- my hope was that without my body blocking the current, the turd would be swept away. But I was now in shallows -- if the beast followed me in, I was a goner.

There were a few tense seconds as the monster thought about what to do.

And then he slowly reversed direction and set sail for the fiesta downstream.

I dressed and extricated myself from my predicament. My brother was curious about the sounds he heard, so I was forced to explain my encounter with the furious brown beast of my own creation. We had a good laugh and continued to get the giggles throughout the day as we made up scenarios about the children downstream discovering my gift to them. Perhaps one of the more curious ones picked it up and took it to his mother; or perhaps it gently brushed up against the legs of a young boy on its journey to the sea. Oh, the adventures it must have had on its epic voyage!

In some ways, I envy that log.

And I will never forget the day I created it, and then immediately from it swam in fear.

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Professor Schitz (80) -- 02.23.2007

Brown Bomber:
When I was initiated into wilderness camping, I was told there was a rule against using the streams to dispose of human waste. In fact, I was told to urinate a specified distance from water sources.
In the future, please dig a hole, far from the water, to dispose of your waste.
Even if those folks downstream ruined your fishing spot, they still don't deserve that kind of treatment. No one does.

C Everett Poop (668) -- 02.23.2007

Wow! What a dildo to moan about some hippies invading the serenity of your private stream and then you took a shit in it. You need help.

CC (not verified) -- 02.23.2007

The Professor is right.You have to dig a latrine.You polluted the lake and also committed turd terrorism.You could have scared the hell out of those kids.I know you guys thought you had an exclusive spot but those people had a right to be there too.

Bunga Din (1239) -- 02.23.2007

I loved this story, there is something about a shit taking on it's own evil countenance and threatening the writer that gets me every time.

shitwit (571) -- 02.23.2007

I've gotta agree with CEP and the professor on this one. Pooping in the stream was probably one of the worse things that happened in that water that day. Although I'm sure some of the hippies downstream may have done the same. Then there would have been a whole school of brown trout making their way to the ocean. Please don't shit in the water if you're out in the wilderness again, or even if you're not so far out. Save it for your buddy's hot tub or something cool like that, dude.

_______
Rock-n-roll! Poopy-poo!

Great comment! +1 point

Chuck (296) -- 02.23.2007

I think a good title would have been "A Turd Runs Through It".

DungDaddy (1386) -- 02.23.2007

So you're the motherfucker that disrupted my family-reunion with your hepatitis turd. I'll get you, Bomber.

Brown Bomber (16) -- 02.23.2007

Thanks for your comments on my first story, both negative and positive. I confess I was younger and much less concerned about anything but myself back when this occured, which is likely why I chose to deposit my load where I did. I'm a different person now in many ways. These days I respect the outdoors a lot more and try to frequent the most remote places my tired body can handle. I carry a little plastic trowel and bio-degradable TP around in my pack, even when I day-hike, and steer well clear of water sources when I do my thing. But thanks for the lectures anyway.

On the other hand if you ever get a chance to let one go while floating in a body of water I highly recommend it, it's a different sensation, it makes me wonder what it would be like to poop in space.

The Thunderous ... (710) -- 02.24.2007

Hmmmm I gotta say BB I was impressed by the size of that Trout. One however should use caution especially being so close to children and probably others fishing downstream. But I have urinated in the Atlantic now lets do the math here ME vs. Several Trillion gallons of water I would have to take into factor the dilution of the urine. Now of course crap is a different story but I guess some dilution would take place BUT intestinal activity of the brown variety should take place where it would do the most good. For example you could have fertilized a tree, EXCELLENT choice there. I dont think going in the water so close to other people and dropping a dookie was the best choice no matter how impressive the log eventually was.
_______
The Thunderous Crapper 63 Enjoying home toilet advantage since 2004!

healthy 1 (1427) -- 02.25.2007

This is a great first story. You could almost call this story "Revenge of the Logness Monster".

Picturing you trying to avoid you new creation, had me laughing out loud. Hopefully, nobody caught that brown trout (ew).
_______
I am winter's hurricane, I am the great blizzard of 1899, and no body shall be exempt from my wrath.

Fudgepump (366) -- 02.26.2007

Nice job, BB. You've gotten hammered (appropriately) for your youthful indiscretion, and I'm pleased to read that you now handle your wilderness deposits correctly.

Anonymous Coward (not verified) -- 02.27.2007

This website is about poop. Why the lectures? The story was ruined by the crappy comments that followed.

daphne (3668) -- 02.28.2007

Even if he peed in the water, the biological filter bacteria of the stream would have been able to handle it, gross or not. One reason people who have undergravel filters usually have clear water is the surface amount that ammonia-eating bacteria have on which to attach. All those gallons of water rushing over the rocks on the stream bed is exactly the same thing. However, I think Superturd would have been a bit much for any filter.

I wish I'd read this story before. It's wicked funny, regardless of the fact that he shit in a stream where people were bathing.

_______
.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

Spearmint (9) -- 03.03.2007

What a happy ending. i hope the "trout" had a nice trip!

_______
We live. We poop. We wipe.

the randallizer (not verified) -- 03.08.2007

Although not in the wilderness.I often wake up at night especially when my wife and I have argued to find her defecating on me.It is most foul and disgusting and to say the least humiliating.I often worry I didn't bathe well enough and my employees can smell it on me.This angers me so bad I have to take it out on my employees and savage them.My wife is a vicious bitch and I do not have the balls to confront her.So I suffer in stenchous silence.

MousePoo (150) -- 07.11.2007

Go Fish!
I just did. And my name's not "Fish."