Outhouse #12: Bathroom at Grand Canyon's Yavapai Point Shows "Your Fees At Work" -- But Is That a Good Thing?

Grand Canyon National Park
Yavapai Point Bathroom
Grand Canyon, AZ USA
www.nps.gov/grca/

Where is it?

Head to the Yavapai Point lookout inside Grand Canyon National Park, which is a short distance away from Mather Point, which holds the park's most visited (and photographed) vantage.

Once there, round the small parking lot loop to the back side of it and look for the lone khaki-colored concrete building there. Those are the bathrooms.

What's it like?

The parking lot here is considerably smaller than the one at the Desert View lookout, which is strange because this stop feels about three or four times as crowded as that one. As a result, parking here can get pretty sticky -- best bet is to follow the loop to the end and park there, then walk up to the canyon rim (about 250 ft. at most), as this will allow for a less stressful time finding a space and leaving the lot.

Given that, this is a stop worth making because the view here offers a unique spin on the more famous Mather Point and Grandview lookouts. From here, you get closer to some of the mammoth formations jetting out from the side of the canyon and can get a closer look at the geological layers make up those formations; plus, beyond those formations is one hell of an epic view of the canyon. Some people actually use this lookout as a means to climb onto those formations for a more in-your-face view of the canyon. (Note: Mather Point and Grandview Point are more about the epic view instead of the closeups of those formations; though don't fault them for that, as they are great views as well.)

The toilets here are pretty straightforward in construction. It's a concrete building, medium sized, with a brown roof. Men's room to the right, women's to the left. Unlike the Desert View lookout bathroom, the ones here actually blend in with the landscape around them (must like how the bathrooms at the Temple of Sinewava stop at Zion National Park do), and they certainly convey the western motif found in much of the rest of the park.

Inside, they are pretty predictable and archaic. You walk in, and the sink station is to your immediate left. Beyond that are two urinals, and beyond that are three toilet stalls, two regular and a handicap in the very back. Beige-painted metal dividers (the same color as the metal entrance door to the place) separate the stalls and urinals. The bottom half of the walls are concrete, painted a dark beige, and the top are wood, painted a lighter beige. The floor is painted concrete - also beige, albeit a darker shade than the others found here.

The toilet stalls aren't anything special -- white porcelain commodes with plastic toilet paper holders, nothing more. The handicap stall is pretty roomy -- bigger even than the over-sized stall found at the Main Street Brewery in Cortez, CO, the green bathroom toilet stall at Eddie McStiff's in Moab, Utah, or the one at the Kolob Canyon Visitors Center in Utah.

The sinks are white porcelain, as are the urinals; both look and operate like relics from the pre-automated flush days, especially the urinals which utilize the old push-the-button-in-the-wall means to flush them. The sink has that push-the-faucet-button-to-start-the-time-limited-water-flow faucet on it, as seen at JFK's Delta Crown Room or IKEA Orlando, only not as effective as those.

The place is somewhat brightly lit thanks to the line of windows set along the top perimeter of the place. It's a bit dank regardless, due mostly to the concrete construction, but not nearly as cave-like as the Desert View lookout bathroom (or the bathroom by the small duty free shopping area at Pulkovo International Airport in St. Petersburg, Russia -- perhaps the most cave-like toilets I've been to). As a result, it's a little musty in here, though surprisingly I didn't smell much in terms of urine or other waste in the air, for which I was thankful. It's a popular stop at the park, so I kind of expected some stink here.

It's clean too. Some spilled water, but that's unavoidable in a bathroom where you can dry your hands only with hand driers (on the front wall).

Most surprising of all is the sign outside the door reading "User Fee: Your Fees at Work," which implied to me that this bathroom gets some sort of special funding. I didn't see this in the Desert View lookout bathroom, though I can say there is a definite difference between the cleanliness of that one and this one.

However, with that special funding help, you wonder why everything here is so antiquated. No automatic flush, old-fashion soap dispensers, old-looking sinks. It's very dated here. Why? Even the amenities at the Desert View lookout bathroom were considerably more modern -- and they didn't have special funding. What gives?

Marks out of 10:

6. A decent, though unremarkable, place for a pit stop. The amenities are quite antiquated, though.

Comments to the Management:

How about making those fees do a little more? How about some color on the walls, like images of the canyon and such? And how about updating the urinals and sinks -- these look like they are the same ones that catered to visitors from 1954.

Outhouse #11: Grand Canyon's Desert View Bathroom More Cave-like Than Desert-Like

Grand Canyon National Park
Desert View Bathroom
P.O. Box 129
Grand Canyon, AZ USA
www.nps.gov/grca/

Where is it?

When coming from the west into Grand Canyon National Park, and using HWY 64 as your entrance route, Desert View is the first viewpoint you will come across.

Once there, park your car in the vast lot found there and make your way to the canyon itself. As you walk, you'll see signs leading you to the bathroom, which will be the first building (it's a gray concrete building) you'll come across while heading towards the canyon. If you reach the Desert View Trading Post, you've gone too far -- turn around and go into the building behind that -- that's the bathroom.

What's it like?

Those coming in from the park's main entrance sometimes forget to journey to this part of the park, mostly because its the furthest east of all the viewpoints and away from the central action of the Grand Canyon Village. That's not to say it isn't crowded -- it's very busy, but tame in respects to the hustle and bustle found in the Village, which is downright urban by comparison.

Also, Desert View's vantage is not as epic as some of the others, as the view asks you to look left, into the canyon, instead of giving you the epic canyon view most people expect to see the canyon hit them head on the instant they step up to the rim (like at Grandview Point, Mather Point, Yavapai Point and the view of the canyon from El Tovar Lodge, my favorite of the lot). Not that it isn't vast, it's just that viewers has to work a little from this POV. Also, it offers terrific vistas of the desert beyond the canyon, including shots of many of the tall mountains you've just driven through to get here.

Still, the stop has a distinctive western feel. It's sandy, brown, and is centered around the Desert View Watchtower, which is historic stone observation tower filled with Native American crafts. It boasts some terrific views into the canyon (best for looking out into the desert, if you're asking me); just be willing to climb up to the top (about 50 steps, essentially) to experience. There's also a "trading post" here, though it's nothing more than a quick bite cafe and souvenir shop for tourists.

The toilets here are found in a monolithic gray building that kind of ruins the western vibe of the place. It's a large facility, with the women's room being on the back end (length-wise) and the men's room being closer to the main path.

The setup is pretty Teutonic: There's a front and back entrance, and essentially the offerings mirror each other from the entrance inward. Going inside, you first come across a small sink station, featuring two white porcelain sinks and two small mirrors overhead. Each sink has an old-fashioned pump soap dispenser above it (not quite as antiquated as what was found at the Red Canyon Visitors Center, but close). Some hand driers are fixed to the walls to the side of the sinks.

Behind that, closer to the center of the bathroom and behind a concrete half-wall divider, is a string of urinals, separated by beige-painted metal dividers. These are also white porcelain but do not have an auto-flush feature (which puts them in the same boat as the bathroom at the Zion Canyon Main Entrance Toilets in terms of non-environmentally friendly bathroom items being employed here).

Beyond that, taking up the center of the bathroom, is a row of about eight toilet stalls, each separated by your basic beige-painted metal stall walls. Again, nothing special here. And the pattern continues on the other side, with the urinals following the stalls and then the sinks again.

Unlike the Zion Canyon Main Entrance Toilets, which have a similar layout, the room here is long and lit by a row of windows built just below the roof line. Not too dim, really, though on a cloudy day you can see it becoming very shadowy here.

The walls and floor are painted concrete, and both doors on both sides of the place were wide open upon my arrival, making the place pretty drafty in its central walking areas. Not as drafty as the air-tunnel-like experience I had at the Southwest Indian Traders, but not far off.

Also, the tunnel-like design here lends a strong echo to whatever is said. If you're talking by the entrance, even if you're just outside the door, and even if you're not shouting, expect your voice to be carried down the way. More than anything, this is a cave.

But the draftiness eliminates most of the odors and the place was clean enough too, though there was some water spillage on the floors and a general dankness to the air of it (again, very cave-like).

Marks out of 10:

6. A definite step above the Zion Canyon Main Entrance Toilets, but not by much.

Comments to the Management:

The place is pretty drab in design and decor, so a little playfulness (some wall decor, etc.) might make it more comfortable. If not that, then at least consider closing the doors some so it isn't so drafty and the conversations of the people outside aren't as noticeable to the people inside.

Outhouse #10: Four Corners Port-O-Let No Different Than Other Port-O-Lets (Including Those at Expensive Wedding Banquets)

Four Corners National Monument
Port-O-Let #430
PO Box 2520
Window Rock, AZ USA
navajonationparks.org/htm/fourcorners.htm

Where is it?

Pretty easy to find. Just look for the Visitors Center. To the right of that is a stand for Navajo Fry Bread.

Walk between the Visitors Center Building and Fry Bread stand and you'll find a row of port-o-potties. (In fact, a circle of port-o-potties surround all the stands here.) Look for #430 and you've found the one I visited. Woohoo!

What's it like?

Four Corners National Monument has a sort of mythic standing in my life, as it seems to be one of the few places many people who have traveled across the U.S. have been, and of it they always say the same thing: "Eh, it's kind of a let down."

After visiting finally, I now understand what they mean by that statement.

What the monument itself is is just a point in U.S. geography, and when you visit you see a small cross hair marking indicating where Colorado, Utah, New Mexico and Arizona meet. That's it.

There's another Four Corners in the U.S., of course -- one in Virginia that brings together that state, West Virginia, Maryland and Washington, D.C. (click here if you're interested in the location of that one) but that one never receives as much press, perhaps because the landscape isn't as barren (can't say for sure, since I've never been that one).

Anyway, this experience is mostly about the "been there, done that" variety. The land itself is owned by the Navajo nation, and to get in you pay $3 per car to get in. You park, you go up to a small area surrounded by flags that holds a marker where the four states intersect, you take your picture, stand on the marker, take pictures of others in your party standing on the marker, peruse the stalls (about 20 in all) selling fry bread, T-shirts or various Navajo knickknacks, go into the Visitors Center for a short spell (which has a brief history of the place, along with more knickknacks for sale), use the port-o-potty and leave.

That's about it. Takes 15 minutes at most per visit, as long as you don't have to wait long to take your picture. If you see tour buses there, then you may want to be patient (or pushy) with your picture-taking.

Yes, a bit of a let down, but then again you're kind of glad you went because at least you can say you've been there and now you can honestly tell other people who are contemplating visiting it that it really isn't worth a stop unless it's on your way somewhere.

And of course, they in turn will say treat your remarks just as I treated the ones I was greeted with before my visit. So it goes.

Anyway, the port-o-let I visited here, like the monument itself, was nothing special. A standard port-o-let, through and through. It was about as clean as any port-o-let gets on the inside. Beige plastic unit with beige plastic walls, a beige plastic swinging door with a metal hinge lock on the door, a side receptacle for peeing, a central toilet filled with blue chemical water and mounds of human waste. And two full rolls of toilet paper, which indeed is a a rarity for port-o-lets, since their toilet paper supplies tend to run out.

The pee receptacle was crusted with various dried elements, making that a bit of a ghastly site. As was the sheer mammoth amount of waste in the toilet hole itself.

But the smell wasn't any worse than any of the other outhouses I've been to and in some ways it was a bit cleaner than some of the indoor toilets I've been too -- though not by much.

Even more amusing, I thought, was that this outhouse was more out in the open than the horrid toilet I visited at the Southwest Indian Traders (about 25 minutes away), which was attached to a building, yet this port-o-let was far less shoddier in in terms of construction and far less draftier than that one. Go figure.

As a bonus, it should also be worth stating that the port-o-let here was no better or worse than the one I experienced at a fancy wedding in Winter Park, FL some years back. Which of course tells me that the port-o-let experience does not change across income brackets. Spend more, spend less -- it's still a port-o-let, right? Right.

Well, except maybe for one thing: The Four Corners port-o-let I visited had GPS tracking, and the one I visited at the fancy wedding in Winter Park, FL did not. For that alone, I give the edge to this one.

Marks out of 10:

3.

Comments to the Management:

It's a port-o-let and doesn't try to be anything else, so what's there to recommend?

Outhouse #9: Southwest Indian Traders Home to World's Shoddiest and Draftiest Toilet

Southwest Indian Traders
3840 US Hwy 160-491
Cortez, CO USA

Where is it?

Not in the store.

Rather, when facing the front entrance, head to the right (southeast) side of the building. At the end of the front corner, turn left. You'll find two abandoned 1950s-styled T-birds (at least, that's what they looked like), sitting one in behind the other against the side of the building. Behind them, in a second building, is a rust-covered storage area and garage -- don't go there.

Rather, walk past the two cars (to the right of them sit two wooden frames to tipis, each of which in their center have the rusted framework of what looks like a Civil War-era cannon or some piece of dilapidated farming equipment or something (couldn't tell, they were that rusted and decomposed), and towards the dramatic landscape of the Mesa Verde plain behind that.

At the far end of the main building, you'll see a scary-looking door to your left which leads to a small little closet that's been built onto the outside of the building. That's the bathroom. No fooling. And yes, it's pretty scary inside.

What's it like?

This artifact and souvenir shop located about 10 minutes south of Cortez, CO is a nice, humble warehouse-style building filled with an assortment of area-made Indian crafts (by the Ute tribe, which inhabits the region). Prices are reasonable and the personnel is pretty friendly. A very casual place that doesn't seem to put on my airs about what it sells and who it sells it to, but still pleasant enough.

I wish I could say the same about the bathroom here. This is a small closet room built onto the side of the building as an afterthought. There isn't much here in terms of offerings or niceties. There's a white porcelain toilet that looks like it was picked up on the cheap, a brown and white patterned porcelain sink that looks like it was purchased on closeout or donated, a roll of toilet paper (only one), and a few pipes that extend from the ceiling into the sink and commode respectively -- some of which are supported by rubber bands and straps.

Clearly, this is where the tourists are directed to by the staff in their time of need, as there isn't another place to visit for miles on this road. I imagine the employees' toilet inside is much nicer. Not that this place is very dirty. It isn't. It's just not tended to. And that's very apparent the instant you step inside.

Looking up, you can see where the roof rafters were extended to make room for this place, along with plenty of coagulated dust and some leftover spider webs. There are no walls, just support beams to the main building and two-by-fours. The floor is concrete -- part of the concrete terrace that wraps around the place and also doubles as its foundation -- and is stained in parts from water and other forms of spillage. The door is just a piece of plywood slapped onto some other pieces of plywood as a means to create a chamber, and it has a sliding latch to lock it, nothing more. A lone light bulb hangs above everything -- the only light here, outside of the natural light, that is. Beneath the sink is a bucket lined with a plastic supermarket bag -- not sure if it's supposed to be the place's trash can or if it's there to catch any water seeping out of the plumbing.

This makeshift construction, of course, gives you little separation from the outside world. Being this is mountain country, the air is pretty drafty, and while you're sitting on the pot here, already feeling pretty gross about the situation you've found yourself in, and you feel the wind blow through the cracks in the walls and against your bare skin, believe me that you feel very naked and exposed to the world. It gets pretty drafty and cold in there, that's for sure. Likewise, you hear the traffic pretty loudly when it passes on the highway outside.

Really, this is the shoddiest bit of construction I've encountered since my visit to the Zion Canyon Main Entrance Toilets and Babys R Us in Orlando -- and those places look downright palatial compared to this one.

Of course, I've labeled this place as an outhouse when in a way it really isn't -- it has indoor plumbing (well, sort of -- the toilet flushes, but no water comes from the faucet when you turn it, so make sure you've got some hand sanitizer with you, because you'll need it). But you feel the elements so much here that in a way it can also be considered an outhouse -- only there are many other outhouses I'd prefer to visit over this "indoor" facility.

On the plus side, there is little of foul smell here -- but that's mostly because the draftiness of the place ensures odors don't stay inside the chamber for long. I guess that's a plus, right?

Marks out of 10:

1. A truly terrible experience -- a sad compliment to an otherwise charming knickknack store.

Comments to the Management:

Clearly, this room isn't a priority to you, so I'm not sure what could be done to fix it up if you don't care about it.

Perhaps the easiest thing to do is to just put up a proper outhouse in the parking lot, which would actually offer considerable more comfort. Then again, those things can be expensive, so perhaps the thing to do is put up some drywall to hide the plumbing and rafters, put in a proper garbage can, make sure the water to the sink actually runs, seal up the gaps in the door, and perhaps even put up a poster or two on the wall to add a bit of local color to the place. As is, it's probably the worst toilet I visited this year, sorry to say.

Urinal Trough, Extremely Inefficient Privacy Barrier Highlight Visit to Classy Main Street Brewery Bathroom

Main Street Brewery
21 E Main St
Cortez, CO US
www.mainstbrewery.com

Where is it?

A bit of a trek, since the place is pretty long compared to its width.

From the front entrance, head straight through the bar area, to the very back of the place. Once there, you'll see the in-house brewing facility, in a small room on your right. (There are windows to the room, allowing you to peer inside and view the brewing process in action.)

Keep going back once your at the brewery room. About halfway down, you'll see a section of the dining room that caters exclusively to large parties -- it will be on your left. Beyond that is a hallway snaking back and to the right, and a set of stairs leading downstairs, to a game room.

Avoid the temptation of going downstairs, to the game room, and instead take the hallway snaking off to the right. At the back wall, the hallway will turn left and then make an immediate right.

Once there, and you'll find yourself in a small enclave containing the bathrooms.

What's it like?

This classy brewpub is located in the heart of the small American West town of Cortez, CO -- which is just minutes away from the wonderful Mesa Verde National Park. In many ways, the establishment itself is similar to Eddie McStiff's in Moab, in that it serves both as a restaurant, bar, pub and entertainment area (the downstairs has an assortment of parlor games and such) to the surroundings, making it a great place to while away a slow evening while in this beautiful country.

The decor here is that of an upscale brewpub -- reminiscent of the Abbey in Deland, only much larger and a bit more rough and tumble in spirit. The walls are brick and covered with chic beer-related art (including labels for their beer varietals) and various hip drawings, including a nifty spin on the regional Kokopelli icon, in which the creature is drinking from a mug of beer. A semi-open kitchen sits in the back, and the dining room is a mix of long wooden booths and cafe-styled tables.

The bar looks more like a traditional sports bar, just with darker woods and fewer TVs -- kind of like a corral of pub tables, dark woods and stools, if you will. And in the front corner is a small gift shop, where you can buy beer and T-shirts and stuff.

Because of the large space it occupies, the place can get a bit loud, especially on a Friday or Saturday night, when the spot is full of locals and tourists alike. Service is good but can be slow during busy times. Prices are fair.

The food is good and at times surprisingly adventurous, definitely a step above standard pub grub. The sausage sampler includes three large links, all made in house, of bratwurst, andouille and smoked sausage, respectively; the andouille was the favorite, one of the best I've had outside of a Cajun place. The regional trout was also a highlight, though it might have been easier to eat had it been prepared flat and open instead of folded and closed. The appetizer of marinated short ribs was sizable and the rib strips were flavorful and pleasantly chewy, though one member of my party found them too chewy and expected them to be more tender.

Being a brewpub, you should definitely give one or more of the dozen or so beers on tap (brewed in house, of course) a whirl, as they are for the most part tasty regional takes on classic German-based brews (and each one has a funny name attached to it, of course). The double bock is strong, full-bodied and sweet, so as to balance out the high gravity nature of the brew. The pilsner is very drinkable though lacks that crisp bitterness commonly associated with the use of traditional saaz hops in the beer style. The wheat beers are light, summery and sweet, but not cloyingly so. Well worth trying.

The bathrooms are a bit of a throwback to the traditional English pub, though with some obvious modern flair. The floor and walls here are simple enough -- gray linoleum on the floor, white drywall on the walls. The space is wide, roomy and very clean. The walls have some brewery-based posters (including a funny beer bottle one which says, "Avoid headaches, drink beer" -- which is apparently the business' slogan) and some drawings of Kokopelli himself, slinging back a mug of brew.

The sink station contains two sinks and a large mirror above them that doesn't quite span the length of the vanity but has stickers of the breweries titles on it. Sinks are of the traditional two-faucet variety and white porcelain, as is the bathroom's lone toilet, which comes in a huge stall that caters both to handicap and regular persons. A very large stall indeed -- on par with the sizes of the stalls experienced at the Kolob Canyon Visitors Center and the green bathroom at Eddie McStiff's.

Ironically, the stall doesn't take up all the back of the bathroom, leaving a surprisingly large amount of common area space. Not so much that it produces echoes, but still more than you'd expect. This makes the room a bit of an anomaly, because in most cases most places don't waste much space in their bathroom. Here, you've got tons of room to spare -- easily enough for another stall or trough-style urinal.

Speaking of, the highlight here is definitely the trough-style urinal, which reminded me of the English pubs I've visited -- like Fox Inn in Great Barrington in Oxfordshire. In fact, the make and model of the urinal here and the one at the Fox Inn seem to be the same, only that this one is sparkling clean and new and that one is worn down, rusted and covered in water stains (and most likely other sorts of stains too). Definitely a nice touch to the place and adds to the street cred of the restaurant/brewery.

Unfortunately, the green plastic privacy divider placed on the trough urinal is one of the most useless urinal dividers I've seen since visiting the Tamarisk Restaurant in Green River, UT. It's not quite as bad as that one: The Tamarisk one actually tried to offer privacy and in the process (and in poor assembly) offered none. This one doesn't even try to mask the fact that it offers any privacy at all; it's just there and I'm not sure why.

To explain: The divider here is short and set up in a way that it hides nothing from the person next to you. In fact, because it's mounted way up on the trough, the only way to actually get some privacy from it would be if both neighboring parties jump up on the lip of the trough to pee -- and even that might not do much because both parties would have to be 3 feet tall or less to make use of it, given that the divider is pretty short to begin with. Take the thing down, please, since it does nothing.

Marks out of 10:

8. A classy bathroom that's very clean and somewhat funky, thanks to the urinal trough.

Comments to the Management:

I wouldn't mind seeing some more decor on the walls. Also, either get rid of the urinal divider or, if you're keen on keeping git, at least set it up so that it actually offers some privacy -- and seeing that it's in the middle of the trough, you may want to add two more to the sides to ensure privacy from all sides. Then again, you lose the ambiance of the trough -- so perhaps the best bet here is to indeed get rid of it. Sorry.