taxlady: (Saami bjørn)
Forgive me for writing another story about peeing. But, you see, I'm Scandinavian and us Teutonic types are amused by peeing and pooping (farting is pretty good too).

In the early 80s I had a gig at a club in Chapais. I lived in La Macaza, QC. This was before the new road was built - the 113 - the one going north, that branches off the 117 before Val d'Or and goes through Senneterre and Lebel-sur-Quévillon. So, I had to drive south along the 117 until it became the 15, turn east on the 40 in Montreal. Then, I continued east on the 40 until Trois Rivières. From Trois Rivières, it was north  and east along the 155 until I passed Lac St-Jean. Somewhere near Lac St-Jean, after passing Roberval, I took the 167 north and west. The last town is La Doré. Then there is about 230 km through a park before you get to Chapais. There is a gas station and diner, somewhere between those two towns. I made a stop, gassed up, had some coffee, and used the facilities. It was the only building I saw. The whole trip is 869 km according to Google Maps.

Some of the scenery was spectacular. I thoroughly enjoyed the drive.

Of course, on the way home, it was the reverse. I headed into the long stretch between Chapais and La Doré. I was wearing my long underwear, a turtleneck sweater, a long sleeved one piece jumpsuit with a zipper down the front, a fleece lined leather jacket, hat, scarf, leather gloves, and boots. It was early winter. It was a real winter, like this one (2007). It was noticeably colder that far north.

Then I had to pee. No big deal, I could just pull over and go in the woods. Then I started to think about it. I would have to take off my jacket to pull down the jumpsuit. I would be out there with just the sweater to protect my top half from the cold and wind. Then, I thought about the top half of the jumpsuit. I would have to pull that up in front of me while I was squatting, so as not to pee on it. I would have to bare my bum to that weather. It all sounded far too complicated and brrr cold. I decided I would just have to tough it out, until I got to the gas station/restaurant. It took far too long to get there. It was probably another 100 kms. I managed not to have the horrible accident. But, I do not wear jumpsuits any more. I might consider one with a drop seat.

Here's link to a map of the route I took.,+QC+J0T+1R0,+Canada&daddr=45.629267,-73.8391673+to:Chapais,+QC,+Canada&sll=48.3527636,-73.4668129&sspn=11.2963207,22.6315407&t=m&geocode=FVG5xAIdTEqN-ymTRZiwjYfPTDGwWdvDSozzWQ%3BFVM_uAIdwU2Z-ynDgzq6LSbJTDEIVf_ywH_mFw%3BFcKd9wIdgNeJ-ym37oRnRufmTDEokZO6byo56Q&via=1&z=7
taxlady: (girly bits)
I have spent a lot of time outdoors, camping, hiking, etc. I learned to squat and pee as a little girl. I learned to make sure which way the pee would run. Always face straight uphill or downhill - especially if you are wearing sandals. Try not to pee on rocks, if you don't want to be splashed. Don't stick your bum in a bush (could be poison ivy or nettles).

When I lived in the woods, I learned how to pee while wearing snowshoes.

I looked at the snowshoes. They are made of a wooden frame and criss-crossed strips of rawhide (see the second picture in the previous post). I didn't think it would be a good idea to get the rawhide wet. So, I spread my feet apart. Then, I tried to pull down my jeans. They wouldn't go down with my legs spread that far apart. Okay, put the snowshoes together, lower the jeans, and then spread the snowshoes apart. It wasn't quite as easy at it sounds. I had to sort of hop one foot away from the other one, with my jeans around my knees. I had a pleasant surprise: when you pee on snow, it goes straight down.  Actually, sort of obvious, when you think about it.


taxlady: (Default)

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