In the Fall of 2004 the new Peter Grubb Hut outhouse was officially anointed. The following year, the old Dutch door outhouse was put to rest. Here is that story:

Outhouse No More

It was nearing a dark and not at all stormy night, a mere two hours until that great ball in the sky sank into the horizon and the awaited hour for striking a blaze to the old timber was here. Cut up into bonfire sized chunks, the guano marinated wood lumbered in the shape of a teepee, it having been in so many recent years that grubby outhouse. Not one match or two, but four with the aid of some spirits ignited the conflagration, it was going to be a spooky night with memories of long forgotten backcountry spent food being sent to the heavens or not.

So at dusk all gathered around, feeding the inferno and also feeding their internals after a hard day's work for no pay. Fearful of what was being released, all kept a safe distance, but the intense heat might have been the true reason.

It was curious that the dinner consisted of noodles with a red sauce (of unknown origin but was believed to have contained medicinal garlic) that had the uncanny ability to dribble on the ground in the shape of many tiny crosses. The desert consisted of crumbs from lower-backpack-compartment-traveled-squashed muffins, but s'mores or at least marshmallows was what all desired.

The evening pushed forward, those hearty souls around the blaze heard the fire plead "more timber" as the bonfire grew in bulk and intensity, then occasionally the fire yielded and bellowed "timber" throwing embers cast on high.

Several were drawn closer to the burning spirit, fortunately no one succumbed, but more than one had their posh outerwear tattooed by the abundant fireflies.

The veterans wept as important factions were cast in: The Dutch door, the sign which read "place TP in bucket and burn in stove," the mouse-proof TP box loved by many a mouse, and the all important seat. The fire was even anointed with the current day's crop from the bucket, but the fiery spirit rebelled at the new to send several marked pieces streaming into the thermal air.

By dawn, nearly two-thirds had been cast down, the spirit somewhat tamed into a pit of ash and glowing embers. But the voodoo had briefly taken a morning prisoner who caused the spirit to rise again with more fuel, others chanted to save the prisoner as that great ball rising in the sky regained control.

Later the pit was quenched and buried, never to be found again. But, it is rumored that the fiery spirit will come alive again in a year's time so as to expel the remainder of that old Dutch door house.