All Around The Campfire

Dump Station Debacle

In July we stayed at Dead Horse Point State Park outside of Canyonlands National Park. We were in the brand spanking new Wingate campground, and it is simply gorgeous.

But this isn’t a story about the nice campground, gorgeous views from Dead Horse Point, or the amenities we enjoyed. This is a story about the horror at the dump station.

After 4 nights our black and grey tanks were at their limits. We pulled up to the dump station as usual, and I jumped out to glove up. (I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this, but the husband is a big chicken when it comes to the black tank. He can help fill it, but he won’t go near the business end.) Any RVer with more than 5 minutes of experience knows that dumping the black and grey tanks is pretty easy and rarely, rarely messy.

The dump station is one of those Jack and Jill setups. I can dump my tanks, and someone else can be 5 feet across the way dumping their tanks. On this day we were the only ones there.

I hooked the hose up to the RV, and then I stepped over to stick the other end of the hose into the dump  hole (is that what we call it?). I noticed that between the dump hole on my side, and the dump hole on the other side was a grated area about 2 feet x 1.5 feet. There was a hose that snaked down into it a few inches. I assumed that this was the standard hose left to rinse the dump station after use.

I was so wrong. So very, very, very wrong.


I leaned over and pulled the handle to the black tank, and that’s when the awful reality hit. It turns out that the dump hole led directly into the grated area. The black tank contents were just shooting out at a thousand miles per hour right in full view.


A view of the abyss from above

I shrieked. The husband and son ran back about 50 feet. I thought turning on the hose spigot would help, but the water came out at such a high pressure, that it started whipping around like a violent snake. I was being attacked and soaked by the hose and quite possible splashed with the black tank goodies. As I’m trying to wrestle the  hose into submission, the husband and son are laughing so hard that I’m surprised they remained standing. I’m also a bit surprised I didn’t murder them, but I’m too nice for my own good.

Keep in mind that we were the only ones at the dump station. Now picture how it would have gone down if someone would have been on the other side. JUST PICTURE IT!

Dueling poop. We would have had dueling poop.

My black tank would be shooting out one side, and their black tank would be shooting out the other side. WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE POOP HITS THE OTHER POOP?? In my mind it turns into a gigantic poop geyser.

A poop geyser, you guys. I don’t ever want to see that.


my greatest fear – the poop geyser

And what are you supposed to do while you and your dumping neighbor are watching the poop geyser? Do you pretend the neighbor doesn’t exist? Do you just look each other in the eyes and shoot the sh*t? (I know. That is a terrible pun!)

I still haven’t recovered 4.5 months later.

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