OUTHOUSES

I grew up using an outhouse at my parents ski area. I felt our outhouse was a pretty special one, with painted murals by my mother, the number of holes and the general coziness of the place. But here at Acoma, I was horrified by the prospect of sitting perched atop a 370 foot cliff, in gale force winds, in one of these outhouses.

see for yourself. It's not cultural, it's just that I am a chicken when it comes to pooping over great heights.