Its a Natural Feeling

My body is a big fan of the Law of Inertia - at least the second part.  The law clearly states that an object at rest will stay at rest, unless acted upon by an outside force.  My brain occasionally attempts to act as the outside force.

But my body tends to do everything in its power to resist the brain's attempts to move it.  The body reacts violently in some cases - from overheating and nausea, to full out puking, the body makes it clear that said movement is not okay with it, and I had better get back to rest.

To exercise with me is to realize:  I may puke on you.  I am so glad you love me anyway.

Allow me to segue into talk of preparations for our trip.  I read the pamphlets on what to do if encountering a bear, what to do if lost in the woods, and how to prevent hypothermia in the event that I am caught in the rain.  The pamphlets contained an additional section on pooping in the woods.  Oh, I tried to convince myself I wouldn't need it, but knowing my body, there really was no deceiving myself.

Dear reader, you have guessed where this is going, but allow me to regale you with my tale:

We decided on a hike to the "Lonesome Pine Overlook" which is just the beginning section of the "Noland Divide Trail".  The hike is rated "strenuous" by most reviews, and has an elevation change of about 2300 feet.  We started out in good spirits, despite the heat.  It was about 92 degrees and humid.  It wasn't long before we were both sweating, and Adam commented that he hates the sun.

Apparently, this was more effective than we knew.  Literally a minute after his statement, it started to drizzle and turned quickly to a light rain.  At least this will cool us off, we thought, and we continued our ascent.  About a half hour later, there was no kidding ourselves.  This was full buckets of rain, dumped by the gallon over our heads.  The trail was steep and narrow, with water literally streaming downwards as we climbed up.  I pulled my camera from my pocket and buried it in a biking glove that was still in my pack, hoping to keep it dry.  I also used the rain cover feature of my pack for the first time.  A pouch at the base holds a cover that slips over the top, affording an additional defense against moisture.

As thunder rolled overhead, we considered sloshing our way back to the car, even though we were only about halfway.  However, we chose to trudge on with heavy clothes and squishy feet.

An hour later, the rain let up, and we reached a rocky ridge.  Finally, we were able to take a few pictures:

Plumes of "smoke" rising from the valley - giving the Great Smokies their name.

 The peak in this picture was our destination - about 2300-ft above our starting point.

 This "waterfall" popped up during the storm.

It threatened to rain some more, and though we were cool with it before, our patience was a tad thin.  So we began the trek back down the muddy slope.  It was about this time that I realized what punishment my body had set  up for me.  Evil of all evils, I had to poop.  This behavior was not unheard of from my body.  So of course, I ignored it.

About 20 minutes later I told Adam of my predicament and headed away from the trail to dig a hole as I was instructed by my pamphlets.  On the bright side, I was already soaked to the bone and feeling generally gross.  And I answered an age old question:  When a Baer shits in the woods and no one is around to smell it, does it make a stink?