I just spent my entire summer working on a wildfire incident management team, from Idaho to Minnesota, and, well, Montana in between. Mind you, this is not a luxury endeavor. We sleep in tents, surrounded by generators, diesel engines, and occasionally some asshole who doesn’t get the quiet hours memo and is on his cell phone until midnight. We also get to see the inside of a blue room more than we care to.

But aside from high-end accommodations and camp food, the real luxury comes in the form of…porta-potties. All. Summer. Long. 

That statement is tinged with sarcasm. In fact, there is nothing luxurious about the ol’ blue room. Or purple or green room. The question really comes down to this: Which is worse, the blue room when it’s 20 degrees at 6 a.m. or at 100 degrees on a sweltering afternoon? Ponder that. 

Yes, friends, these are real questions we ask. Read on to learn of the other important porta-potty conversations had around fire camp this summer. Also, if you’re tired of wildfire smoke, learn how to prevent them.

The Blue Splash

Now, fire camp porta-potties are not your run-of-the-mill music festival variety. Sure, the infrastructure is the same, but few ordinary citizens have ever had the chance to experience “the blue splash.” 

Fire camp shitters are emptied daily. They usually get a hose down and almost pass for clean. However, when they are emptied daily, that means there is nothing to, ‘er, stop “the splash.” 

To put it bluntly, if you’re the first person to take a dump after a cleaning, there is a pool of blue water that will splash. It’s not as far down as it seems. Do not underestimate the power of a camp food turd and its ability to create an Old Faithful size geyser all over your derriere. 

Let’s just say thank god for baby wipes. 

But never fear; there is a way to mitigate the blue splash.

The Sacrificial Half-Roll

Luckily, each cleaning brings a few fresh rolls of toilet paper. Half of a roll can surely be sacrificed to prolong the length of time you go between showers (which, by the way, is typically 2-5 days)?

What does this involve, you ask? Well, it’s pretty simple. Start unrolling, wadding, and dropping in. However, the wadded mountain must lie in the right spot, or else you’ve really solved nothing. It’s a very strategic process that can require some trial and error. 

This is why it’s critical these porta-potty conversations take place, so we can learn from our brethren and not make the same mistakes. Which leads me to…

The Pyramid

While this is less of an issue in fire camp due to the aforementioned regular cleaning, I did run into it this year. Up in the very far northwestern part of Minnesota, about as close to Canada as we could get without actually being IN Canada, there was no daily service. And for the first several days, we were definitely over the “this porta potty will service 10 people with normal use for 7 days” limit. We absolutely hit the warning about how exceeding the limits can lead to unsatisfactory conditions. 

And with limit exceedances comes…the pyramid. This is when the poop pile grows perilously upward, closer and closer to your bare ass. While I cannot say I’ve personally experienced this, let me just say: please be careful, friends, and poop with caution when the pyramid is peaking. 

As mentioned above, this is likely more apt to be the product of a three-day music festival. Still, it was a genuine concern in Northern Minnesota as well. 

This brings me to yet another blue room issue that seems to inevitably happen several times per day…

The Awkward Interaction

You step out of your yurt. Eye the row of porta-potties, sitting in the sweltering sun or freezing cold (there is never an in-between). Start walking that way. And then….someone steps out of their yurt and starts moving in the same direction.

NO, you think. Do I turn and go elsewhere? Do I go back inside? What should I do, WHAT SHOULD I DO?!? You panic and keep going, hoping they don’t make eye contact or small talk.

Now, this is someone you know. You’re working with them regularly on this incident. You talk all the time and likely have seen them all summer. But when you’re heading there, and they’re heading there, we all know what’s going on. I know what you’re up to, and you know what I’m up to. And I don’t want to do it next to you.

So the next issue is spacing it out. Luckily blue rooms don’t seem to come in less than three at fire camp. Therefore, you can put space between you, unless, of course, there is someone in the middle. In which case, go in and do everything in your power to not come out simultaneously. Because then you have to make awkward small talk around the little portable pump water station hand-washer thing. 

But alas, let’s get back to…

The Temperature

I know you were wondering about the answer to the temperature question. It’s a valid question for those of us with lots of experience and one with a host of opinions (that I’d love to hear). 

Personally, I prefer the heat. 

When it is twenty degrees out, there is nothing worse than having to pull all your clothes down to do your business. I complain about this every year during hunting season as I’m stripping down bare, so I’ll continue to complain about it here.

However, at least in the mountains, you’re out in the open with nothing to accidentally rub up against. In a porta-potty, don’t let your gloves fall out of your pockets. Don’t hit your coat against anything. Don’t drag your belt on the floor or, heaven forbid, in the men’s urinal (yes, that happened to me this year). And make sure your shoes are tied before stepping in. There are just a lot of moving parts!

In the heat, the smell isn’t that bad. Remember the blue splash? The blue part of the splash seems to be a pretty potent adversary from anything getting too rank. 

Finally, in the cold, those little pump-style water sink hand-washer things? They freeze. So not only do you likely have COVID on your hands from touching the door, now you can’t even wash anything else off you picked up in there. So then it’s a beeline back to your yurt to find some hand sanitizer, sans gloves. 

Bottom line, blue rooms and the cold are A LOT of work. I’ll take warm weather any day.

Final Thoughts on the Blue Room Conundrum

Others may have different opinions on the temperature or different experiences, tips, and tricks. I’d love to hear what I missed because I know we could talk about the downfalls of this modern miracle all day long. How do I know this? Because I haven’t been to a fire yet where the topic didn’t come up. 

In all seriousness, if you need information on wildfires in your area, start with https://inciweb.nwcg.gov/.