Our Cottage late 1980s
When the ex and I first moved to the land I live on now, we rented a neighbor’s cottage. It was a rustic, cozy place with an outhouse close by and no running water. There was a cistern at the top of the land where you could fill water jugs plus there was an outside shower up there. It was idyllic.
Later we built a little cottage ourselves, had a baby and eventually drilled a well. Still no indoor plumbing but we had a farm pump, privy and outside shower with hot water. Hot water! Oh the joy! We lived there 12 years.
It was a group exercise to take a shower at our cottage. The water heater and shower controls were inside and the shower head was outside. No stall or curtains, just a shower head on the side of the house with drainage on the pebble pad beneath. Shower drill was:
- Turn on the water;
- Disrobe, head outside and test the temp;
- Too hot, two bangs on the wall for helper to turn it down; too cold one bang;
- Repeated bangs on the wall meant turn the water off.
We showered outside year round. Getting in was great. Getting out was painful.
In the summer you had a shower buddy with a towel to protect you from the horseflies. Those silent devils would zoom into your peaceful shower for a bite in places I’d rather not mention. Your towel buddy had the job of flipping the towel at them while you got clean. It worked pretty well as long as your towel buddy wasn’t a smart ass.
Winter was another story. There was ice all over from past showers and you had to watch your step. One evening I came home from work exhausted, unhappy, and cold after a hair-raising drive to even get home. All I wanted was a warm shower. I headed outside, showered and cried until I could feel the water start to turn cold. In my hurry to get back inside, I slipped on a patch of ice and fell into a snow drift. I was wet, covered in snow and ice and I had to crawl to the house over more ice to get inside.
Shortly thereafter I got a really good paying job, took out a loan, and built a house. It has running water, laundry facilities and two bathrooms; such luxury! But sometimes I miss that outside shower.
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Loved this story. I too have had outdoor shower experiences during a good number of archaeological field projects, where we would certainly get dirty excavating and screening soil through wire mesh. But I never had field projects in the WINTER where we had to camp. I learned when building a shower myself that if we painted a 55 gal drum flat black then the shower water inside would heat up to a nice temperature. But I had to ration this warmed-all-day water among everyone on the field crew by requiring short showers and using the “Navy” method (get wet, turn off shower and soap up, turn on again and quickly rinse).
Thank you Cheryl.
What a great idea with the black iron drum!
I think the funniest thing about living a more primitive life was that we’d sometimes have neighbors hiking by while we were showering. As there were no shower curtains or walls, we all just waved to one another and went on with what we were doing. Early on we were delighted with heavy rain showers in the summer. This meant we could stand under the edge of the roof and take a rainwater shower with the runoff. You had to be quick though as sometimes the rain stopped inconveniently when you were soaped up!
Great memories of the community shower. Now that was up top so more folks could possibly wander by. But we did have a wood stove inside the community kitchen to run into quickly and get warm. The good old days.
Yeah, that was great. I remember driving up there with my towel and hanging it on the line. Only to come up later and find someone had used it! Fond memories though.