What awaits a weary traveler in remote places in need of modern plumbing?

The wretched fifth of others, spawned of the Devil's anus. The picture above comes courtesy of the Ranier, OR harbor. I'm only on the second day of my journey, but I'm thinking about abandoning the use of public toilets in rest areas. It's as if the average Joe finds these places and takes license to reenact the infamous Irish prison "Brown Protests."

What I've witnessed is beyond contempt. Rural Philistines have found a way to smear their peristalsic innards on the walls. The walls! This gives new meaning to the "Columbia River Gorge."

Many of you might want to see beautiful pictures of panoramic sunsets--and they're coming--but I want to share my lesser experienced with those that have, or want, to try such an endeavor.
If I find a greater biohazard, I'll post it.

Finally, for those that know me from my "racing days" on the lowly second tier Missouri MTB circuit in the 90's, this is quite a fitting entry for my "Brown Hornet" moniker.

Moving on.