A flash of white drew my attention. I walked over to pick up the litter and restore balance to the wilderness but am tested when the piece of trash turns out to be a bit of shit-covered toilet paper. Jerks, I think. I popped the straps off my shoulders and removed my backpack.

Within the pack, I held a small kit for myself taking a dump in the woods. A few quality sandwich-sized Ziplocs, a trowel, and a half roll of TP. The TP and the extra bags I placed within one bag, and the whole works strapped to the concave bit of the trowel blade with a heavy duty rubber band.

I slipped one of the empty baggies, inside out, over my hand and began to peck around for the shitty toilet paper like a heron with a hankering for cellulose. When I held the wad tight in my fist and turned the bag inside in, the sun broke out from high stratus and bathed the mountains in white light. Dark clouds behind an illuminated mountain cannot be beaten.