I don't know but it might be one of those things you are better off developing your own natural immunity or resistance to. It's mostly a matter of intestinal fortitude, and it depends alot on the environment you are hiking in. Thing is, they can carry bugs of their own, so life is always full of surprises. Also, my own understanding is that treating your water is something people should do to protect the environment from them, and not so much the other way around. If it does multiply in your gut it might be weeks later spreading your disease, but you might be back out there by then, and that's not good. So it's tied in with personal hygiene, meaning it's about protecting the environment and others as much as yourself. True, if you develop immunity you are protecting the environment as much as yourself, but life is full of surprises and there are just too many of us now. We have to go further to reduce our impact.

I use a Kelly Kettle, which provides plenty of boiling water for tea and for washing up and even for some laundry action. When you consider the complete life cycle a Kelly Kettle by itself is probably the most environmentally friendly option for most places, but perhaps not all places. Desert hikes for example, probably call for a filter. Don't know anything about deserts. I ain't got much culture. Then there's the whole mountain top thing. I can only imagine some of the things you guys and gals do up there.

'nother crazy poem I wrote...


The Maiden and the Skink

There once was a Maiden so fair yet so lowly,
all these creatures came stirring, but who'll love her truly?
I said the Sparrow, with my bow and arrow,
though rather cruely, I'll love her truly.
I said the Fly, 'til the day that I die,
though rather cooly, I'll love her truly.

But the Maiden was clever, and unimpressed,
so she chided, and bided, to hear from the rest.
I said the Lark, only after its dark,
proper and duly, I'll love love her truly.
I said the Thrush, but I'm not in a rush,
when I'm through with Julie, I'll love her truly.

Still the Maiden was doubtful, and growing depressed,
'til this fearsome wee creature fell on her chest.
I said the Skink, with my little dink,
though a wee bit unruly, I'll love you truly.

So when spring cleaning, or washing your hair,
or whatever you do on those mornings down there,
leave the leaves for the worms, or other dear
wriggling fearsome creatures only birds may hear,
burrowing into your earth, struggling for air.