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June 27th, 2007 Ethan Smith | Special Section Stories
 

These Forests Ain't Virgin Anymore

A guide to doing it in the backcountry.

     
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IMAGE: amy ouellette

Beds are boring. Flat, square, routine. They're fine for sleeping, but ill-suited for an interesting sex life. Once you exhaust all the couches, counters, tables and appliances in your place, you'll be stuck holding the same old headboard. Luckily, the great outdoors offers infinite alternatives to your soiled futon. But before you fill your sexiest fanny pack with trail mix and Trojans, you'll want to brush up on the basics of open-air coitus.

Outdoor sex comes with three prerogatives: Don't get caught, clean up after yourself and don't get hurt.

Getting caught is not just embarrassing—it's also irresponsible. Don't let some innocent family on a Sunday stroll through Forest Park catch your deviant ass in the air. While you're zipping up and stammering, the parents will be struggling to explain to their young children why you had a pinecone up your butt. Worst-case scenario, the authorities get involved and you wind up in a cell worried about something besides pinecones. So stay away from busy trails.

Noise is another consideration (ladies). Sound carries in open spaces, which means even if you don't see the kids you could still be traumatizing them. In dense forests, however, trees dampen sound and keep the moaning relatively close. Your best bet is a bear den or bat cave (which chicks dig, by the way).

Sex—especially rough sex—can take a toll on the environment, so be careful to minimize your impact. Don't crush a patch of native wildflowers in your horny haste, and watch for wildlife. Realizing that lump under your back was a suffocating baby opossum will probably put the kibosh on Round Two. Moss and sand are good, low-impact doin'-it surfaces. So is duff, the cushy layer of organic material that lines the forest floor. Try to restore any damage you cause—the way you replace divots on the golf course or Febreze your friend's couch after you puke on it. And haul out whatever you haul in—undies, rubbers, leather masks, etc. You know what Smokey says: Take only pictures, leave only ass-prints.

Nothing kills the mood like a scrotum full of angry fire ants (though they only tickle for a second). So, before you drop your cargo shorts, scout a safe spot free of dangerous flora and fauna. Oregon harbors three noxious plants to watch out for: poison oak, poison ivy and stinging nettle. Poison oak is a low-growing shrub with oaklike leaves that are shiny with toxic oil and turn red in the fall. Poison ivy's leaves are tear-shaped and share the same nasty oil. On contact, both plants cause most people to erupt in an itchy rash with painful blisters. So keep them away from your junk. Stinging nettle has serrated leaves, covered with fine, white hairs, that radiate from a central stock. When you brush against the plant, its hairs break and release a trio of toxic chemicals that result in—you got it—a painful, itchy rash. Also, for the idiots out there, avoid beehives, snake pits and anything with thorns or that's on fire.

Happy trails, you perverts.


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