I happened to be listening to Vox Pop, WAMC’s afternoon call-in show, last week when I heard host Ray Graf express surprise and perhaps even a little dismay as his guest, home maintenance and repair expert Darren Tracy, celebrated the delights of outdoor showers.
When I stated dating my wife she bought me impressively inventive birthday presents. Today, decades into our marriage, I notice that most of my gifts hue closely to the same theme. They’re heavy on home improvement. I mean, a composite all-weather LL Bean Adirondack chair is a fine thing but it doesn’t set my heart aflutter.
I’ve learned that if I want an exciting present — by the way Deb could say the same thing about me and my lack of gift giving inspiration — I better buy it for myself. Why open marital wounds unnecessarily? Only to make this point: the best gift I ever gave myself was an outdoor shower.
Like Mr. Graf I would probably once have been mortified at the thought of showering outdoors and in public, so to speak. I have no recollection of my first experience, though I suspect it was in the Caribbean. You could shower as the turquoise sea spread out before you far below and the trade winds tickled your skin.
For the record, all outdoor showers are great. I realize I invite disagreement and even disparagement by making such a blanket statement. And as I do I can think of the grungy outdoor shower or two that I’ve stepped into. Also, you may find yourself sharing it with occasional insects and lizards that consider the shower their home.
And many outdoor showers are at least partially enclosed, even claustrophobic. Their owners have erected walls in the mistaken belief that privacy is required as they or their guests shampoo their heads and luffa their bodies.
I should make clear that I’m talking warm water showers, those that allow you to regulate the temperature. Some may find cold water showers bracing. I feel that pain finds you soon enough so why go looking for it?
I consider myself extremely fortunate because our outdoor shower, surrounded by woods, enjoys total privacy. And if it doesn’t that’s because some stranger is trespassing on our property and has a lot of explaining to do (after I hastily towel off and get dressed.)
But whether free and open to nature or partially enclosed an outdoor shower — May through September in the Northeast and even into late October — beats an indoor shower every time. Why? Let’s start with practicality. Because you’re outdoors there’s less maintenance involved. The water flows into the soil rather than steaming your bathroom windows and growing mold.
But it’s more the sense that you’re at one, or at most one-and-a-half, with nature. What’s more civilized that a warm shower, except perhaps a hot bath? I’ll tell you what is. An experience that weds the miracle of indoor plumbing with the visceral majesty of nature. That’s an outdoor shower.
The devices aren’t perfect, though usually through no fault of their own. We happen to be in the throes of deer fly season. And they seem to take particular sadistic delight in dining on you when you’re at your most vulnerable. When bugs sully an otherwise ecstatic experience, when you’re even occasionally forced to flee for cover, it really feels like a personal affront.
Also, there’s the issue of dropped soap. I seem to drop my soap far more frequently outdoors than I do when using an indoor shower. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s because the exuberance of the experience makes me careless. Or I’m distracted by the view. Indoors, all you need to do is pick the bar of soap back up. Losing your soap outdoors, on the other hand, can be a prickly adventure. That’s goes double for our place. Biting flies aren’t the only enemy. So are thorny black cap raspberry brambles and poison ivy. I may be a fool but not fool enough to chase a bar of Dove or Irish Spring into the woods.
But deer fly season will be over soon enough. And showering with a panorama of the woods, or the morning sun shining down on you or the sunset slanting through the forest, makes you feel as if your very soul is flowering.
Rain is also no obstacle. If anything it has a multiplying effect. Besides, you’re already wet so what’s a little more precipitation? And the cold weather come autumn? Under the shower it’s always warm and cozy. Of course, there’s no defense against a stiff breeze when the temperature is in the forties.
But that’s just nature’s way of telling you to drain the pipes, return to your prosaic indoor cleaning regimen and dream of next year when your first outdoor shower of spring beckons in all its glory.
Ralph Gardner, Jr. is a journalist who divides his time between New York City and Columbia County. More of his work can be found be found on Substack.
The views expressed by commentators are solely those of the authors. They do not necessarily reflect the views of this station or its management.
