Never Poop on a Belay Ledge and More Key Bathroom Beta for Climbers

Climbing poorly won’t ruin your reputation. Pooping like an amateur absolutely will.

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(Photo: Cavan Images / Getty)

In the 12 years I’ve been climbing, I’ve heard countless stories about gastrointestinal emergencies. I’ve told a fair number of them myself—from that time a friend and I both got sick and had to pass a single W.A.G. Bag back and forth for 13 hours on a ridge traverse, to that time I pooped my pants in an offwidth in Eldorado Canyon. Now that I’m 32, I’ve realized two things: Poop stories are still very funny (sorry, Mom), and there’s actually no such thing as an emergency—just a lack of preparedness.

The proliferation of human waste is a serious issue that threatens access to climbing areas across the U.S. It’s also just plain gross. The good news is that, with the right kit and a little know-how, it’s an entirely preventable problem.

Here are our favorite tips, tricks, and gear for responsibly managing your human waste across the major climbing disciplines. I also offer tips on how to use the loo in arid, remote, and wintry environments.

A climber’s guide to pooping and peeing, by discipline

Cragging and bouldering

Crags and bouldering zones with short approaches tend to draw the greatest concentration of human traffic. This means it’s extra important that we all remain on our best behavior. Here’s what that looks like:

• Use the trailhead toilet. An actual toilet is your first line of defense, especially if you’re in a crowded area or fragile environment. If it’s a long walk, embrace the extra exercise.
• Dig a six-to-eight-inch hole. Digging “cat holes” works if you’re in a forested area with deep soil. I like the PACT Outdoor Bathroom Kit ($50), which comes with a shovel, just-add-water wipes, and mushroom capsules that speed up decomposition. (Reminder: Pack out the wipes and any TP. Contrary to popular belief, these items can take up to three years to decompose.)
• Carry a W.A.G. Bag. The ubiquitous W.A.G. Bag (short for “Waste Aggregation and Gelling”) is a disposable, odor-proof, leak-proof plastic pouch. Fill it up, pack it out, and toss it at the first gas station you hit on the way home. Pro tip: Local climbing organizations, climbing stewards, and ranger’s stations often pass them out for free.

Follow Leave No Trace guidelines whenever possible. Pack out all your toilet paper, wet wipes, pads, and tampons, and try to pee at least 200 feet off-trail and away from water sources.

Pro tip: Always try to use the bathroom before getting your knee hopelessly in an offwidth, as this classic climbing clip demonstrates:

Multipitch climbing

This advice can be summed up rather succinctly: Do not shit on a belay ledge. Hold it, poop into a Zip-loc, carry a W.A.G. Bag—I don’t care what you do. Just don’t drop your payload on the one place climbers are forced to hang out for hours at a time. If your partner is on the ledge beside you and you’re feeling shy, tell them to close their eyes and sing loudly. It’s a good bonding exercise. Trust me.

Peeing is a little more free-form. Try not to urinate in cracks (they’ll stink forever) or directly onto the route. But anywhere else is generally fine. Ladies, here’s some useful gear to make that easy (even with a harness on):

• Freshette Reusable Pee Funnel ($22.95)
• Kula Cloth ($20)
• Gnara Go There Pants ($168)

Big walling

In the olden days, Yosemite climbers were known to throw used W.A.G. Bags off the wall into the valley below. Later, climbers carried up sections of PVC pipe that they stuffed with used W.A.G. Bags. These “poop tubes” were relatively reliable—but prone to cracking and exploding if dropped. These days, the go-to vessel for multi-day waste containment is a soft-sided haul bag. The most popular of these is the Metolius Waste Case, according to Sam MacIlwaine, a former Yosemite Climbing Steward and Climbing associate editor.

“You hang it at the bottom of your chain of haul bags so you don’t have to smell it,” MacIlwaine says. Most people are pretty generous in sharing Waste Cases, she adds. If you don’t have one, you can typically borrow from a friend.

The unspoken rule is that if you spill your excrement, according to MacIlwaine, is that you must pause your objective until the wall is, well, poop-less. “You have to clean it. If you don’t, it will destroy your reputation in the valley forever,” she says (and she’s not exaggerating.) A few of MacIlwaine’s other tips for big wall bathrooming:

• Use a harness with detachable leg loops. That way you can make a deposit without unclipping.
• Pull the ropes up before peeing. Also pay attention to the direction the wind is blowing.
• Wait til your partner—and any other parties—are above you. Or at least on the ledge next to you. If someone’s beneath you, hold it.
• Keep tampons and wipes in a fanny pack. The top of your haulbag also works. Just make sure your period kit is accessible. Also bring a zip-top bag to pack out used tampons and wipes. These can go in the Waste Case when you have access to it next.
• Don’t drop trou in Yosemite between 12:30 and 4:30 pm. That’s when the high-powered telescopes are out.

How to responsibly dispose of waste, by climbing environment

Desert

The desert is a complicated place to use the bathroom for several reasons, the foremost of which is that things don’t really decompose. The environment is too arid. Anything you leave on or in the sand is more likely to get mummified—and therefore become a lasting monument to your irresponsibility—than to peaceably disintegrate. Plus, bushwhacking around and digging holes disturb the fragile cryptobiotic soil that desert life relies on. Shitting on-trail is a no-no. And shitting off-trail is even worse.

The third problem is that if you forget TP, there’s nothing much to wipe with. Except cactus. The fourth problem is that desert crags and towers are often remote, and bathrooms are hard to come by.

Once, while climbing Castleton Tower about a decade ago, I started to experience hints of gastrointestinal distress on the second pitch. By sheer force of will, I managed to reabsorb and carry on. Then, almost as soon as we rappelled back to the base, my partner decided it would be a great idea to climb the tower again via a different route. My belly wobbled, but all I had with me was a bagel bag. So, I puckered up and nodded reluctantly. By the time we got to the base the second time, the situation was code-red. Out came the bagel bag.

Aiming was no easy feat. The sandy rocks I elected to wipe with (and pack out) left me chafed for weeks. My advice to you? Bring a W.A.G. Bag every time you go climbing. Bring a lot of them. One per person per day is the general rule—unless you want to share.

Alpine

Like desert environments, landscapes above treeline tend to be bereft of moisture. Human waste can take years—if not decades—to break down. The soil is thin and rocky, and digging holes is next to impossible.

For those reasons, leaving waste in the alpine is typically a huge faux pas, especially in places with high visitation like Mount Whitney or Rocky Mountain National Park. There are a few exceptions in truly remote ranges where the brown falcon method is considered acceptable (for the uninitiated, this involves shitting on a flat rock, then frisbeeing it into the void). I once had a guide recommend the ol’ smear-and-throw during a Backpacker Editor’s Choice Trip in Colorado’s Weminuche Wilderness. We were at 14,000 feet, surrounded by miles of talus. He said a single lone turd wasn’t likely to have much of an impact.

That said, I pretty much always bring a W.A.G. Bag, even if I’m way out in the boonies. Altitude does strange things to the digestive tract, and you never know when you’re going to need it.

Finally, piss responsibly above treeline. Marmots, mountain goats, and other high-altitude critters are desperate for salt and will attack anything you’ve peed on. They’ve also been known to eat sweaty backpack straps and chase urinating hikers. In goat country, have a friend stand watch. Then, pee on rock rather than plant matter. That way, the goats will get their fix licking stone, rather than unnecessarily pawing up native vegetation.

Snow and ice

It doesn’t matter whether you’re alpine climbing, ice climbing, or mixed climbing. If there’s snow on the ground, digging holes is useless. Nothing is more horrifying than watching the onset of spring leave dozens of melted-out turds on the surface of god’s green earth.

If there’s a toilet nearby, use it. If not, it’s time for a W.A.G. Bag. Pro tip: Snow makes excellent wiping material. The color allows you to reliably monitor progress, and the temperature is, well, refreshing.