The Bottom of the Outhouse

I am not sure exactly when we bought the property upon which we would erect our mountain getaway. It was definitely in the early 60’s, maybe ’62 or ’63. Long before we built the cabin, we would set up the large blue canvas cabin tent. I think my father bought it at Sears in Renton. I still own it today, although we haven’t used it in years.

I have many stories about camping in that tent; the stories told, eating in it when it rained.

Our mountain getaway property consisted of two primary levels. The lower level ran along May Creek, and had naturally occurring springs which bubbled out from the hillside. As boys we spent many hours along the creek, searching, investigating, or basically hiding from work which my father freely assigned.

The upper area was a large flat area. A single lane, one-way road spurred South and then West from the main road into the development. We spent many weekends at the property in preparation for building the cabin. One of the very first things we built was the outhouse. My dad was familiar with outhouses from his own childhood, and knew clearly the construction basics. We purchased a used toilet seat and painted it in preparation for the outhouse’s first use. Dad even improved on that basic design by applying a clear fiberglass sheet to the roof. Outhouses are notoriously dark – and scary. Besides spiders and bugs of a wide variety, we always thought snakes might be in there. Even when Amanda, Greg, Dad and I went fishing in 2006 at Gibbs Bridge, we checked the outhouse thoroughly for snakes.

We spent nearly every weekend at the property working toward building the cabin (and many many friends and relatives helped – thanks!). When Steve was in junior high or high school, he made our family a sign in woodshop: “The Edmonds’ Family Privy.” We displayed it proudly and it remained on the outhouse even on the day the cabin was sold many years later.

It only made sense to "store what we could" at the property – hauling everything we needed to the site every weekend was a chore unto itself. Our only lockable facility was the green outhouse with the red painted toilet seat.

One time we arrived to find someone had broken into the outhouse. The lock had been snapped and our worst fears had been realized. All of dad’s tools were gone! The only remaining item was about 20 pounds of lime we used for flushing (lime helps keep the odors to a minimum – something else I learned from my father).

Wait! It must have been kids who broke in! The expensive tools were not stolen! They lay at the “bottom of the outhouse.” It took only a short discussion before it became obvious what must be done. No one could fit down "the hole" except my brother and me.

I am not sure if the vote was fair or not, or what other considerations there may have been (such as my brother was “too small” to do it), but I won that election – sort of. I was lowered to the bottom of the outhouse by my ankles, past spiders and bugs, to retrieve dad’s tools, one at a time.

- Craig