Deer Stand...or Sit

Spent several hours deer hunting the remote ruggedness of the Blue Hills yesterday.  After miles of traversing some of the most unforgiving terrain hunters can endure, my boy and I rested on the only chunk of solid ground surrounding a secluded lake. 

Reclining among the roots and needles of towering white pines, we contemplated the possibility of our little peninsula having never felt the weight of a human footstep.  Or if the trees overhead ever held a human gaze.  Perhaps ancient natives used the area as a fishery, or trapping grounds for fur-bearing animals, or possibly for harvesting wild rice? The archaeological possibilities surrounding our 'discovery' made us feel like early-American explorers.

Our Lewis and Clark-like experience ended a hundred yard later when we stepped onto a tote road that lead us past a recently used campsite, strewn with beer cans and this:



Plywood privy complete with seat,  paper holder, and mosquito spray.

 (Credit my son, Henry, for suggesting a photograph of the backwoods bathroom for my blog.)