I have my period while hiking and it’s hell – my second month in the Pyrenees

I remove the menstrual cup from my vagina and empty it onto the dead leaves that cover the forest floor. Blood drips slowly and my fingers are soon covered. I’m about to replace the cup inside when I hear it.

The cry of the deer. I learned to identify it last year. This time it emits several, quite strident. Then I see him coming in front of me. It is a proud deer that runs and occasionally stops to look around. I don’t know why he is screaming so much.

At one point he sees me with bloody hands. I remain motionless, happy with this meeting, but he quickly moves away. I still listen to her scream for several minutes. My thighs start to pull. I’ve been in the squat for too long.

In front of me the package of wet toilet paper is almost empty. Soon I will have to use the leaves of the trees to wipe my blood. Unless you find a grocery store tomorrow… In the meantime, I have to act fast. With an expert gesture I push the menstrual cup back into my vagina with dripping fingers.

“I hope my menstrual cup holds up”

A slight pain reminds me that I am no longer used to this manipulation. Outside of adventure, I don’t wear cup. I prefer washable pads and panties. On my Survivor Tour, I use both cup and menstrual panties because my flow is heavy.

After using the last wet toilet paper towel (a rare commodity), I put my panties and sleep leggings back on. I use the water from my bottle to wash my hands briefly. I disinfect them with a little hydroalcoholic gel. The sun sets over the forest. I prepare to sleep in my tent, alone in the Pyrenees.

I’m not afraid of loneliness, but I have a stomach ache. My period cramps won’t go away until tomorrow. I hope my menstrual cup holds up to the shock tonight and doesn’t discover any blood stains on my comforter when I wake up.

I’ve always hated being on period and even more so when I walk long distances. I don’t know exactly when they will start. It is difficult for me to sterilize the menstrual cup between periods. It’s nearly impossible to wash and dry my panties every day. I wear each of them several days in a row.

Rather collective showers while camping or surrounded by nature?

So I feel like I smell like dried blood, urine and feces. In fact, I mostly smell sweat. Because every morning I wear the same shirt, leggings and pair of socks. After three or four days of walking, I take refuge in a campsite where I spend a whole day washing and resting. I maintain this pace throughout the summer.

My days off camping allow me to machine wash all my clothes and dry them well. I find myself so dirty that every shower takes me long minutes. I lather up twice and scrub hard with the washcloth.

In these collective showers I do poorly because I have developed a phobia of the place. I often find them dirty and damp. Mold rubs with hair and hair abandoned by my predecessors. And I regularly discover old bandages left on the floor. The whole thing makes me want to throw up.

After the shower, I dry off as best I can with my microfiber towel and get out of the bathroom as quickly as possible. I prefer to swim in the frozen streams, muddy rivers and dam lakes of the Pyrenees. I don’t use soap but I rinse off briefly. After a long day of walking in 30°C, it’s an unparalleled pleasure.

Freedom to urinate and defecate in the woods

Outside of my period (every 24 days on average), I have no problem going without baths or showers. I have made a habit of urinating in the forest and I enjoy these moments too. During the day, sometimes I’m too lazy to stop, I take off my bag and hide to do it, but I’m thinking of taking my piss standing (tool dedicated to people with vulva) on my next hike for me. That. I can then piss against a tree, like all the cisgender men I meet on the trail!

As for pooping, I also learned how to defecate in the forest: dig a hole, squat down, keep my used QP with me, and close the hole. All this at a good distance from a watercourse to avoid polluting it. My problem is more psychological. I need to be alone and relaxed to have a bowel movement.

I was socialized as a well mannered, polite woman who never farted or burped in public. I have to be discreet when I go to the bathroom. I refuse to disturb other people with noise or smells. So again, camping is where I have the hardest time defecating. Public toilets deprive me of my privacy.

I try to fight against this paralyzing discomfort. This summer I met a hiker who told me he loves ” make as much noise as possible when he uses the bathroom at the campsite. Some are less ashamed of their bodies than others…