Long gone are the days of begging spectators to compete in the Virginia City World Championship Outhouse Races.
Decades ago, a bare-bones team of Party Poopers from Penn Valley arrived at the Outhouse Races and began searching for athletic young men.
“Sometimes race announcers would help us recruit pushers by asking for volunteers over the public address system,” recalls Party Pooper Crew Boss Phillip Parker.
“Once we got a team of pushers together, it was really hard to keep track of them,” says Party Poopers Pit Boss James Harris. “They would disappear into the crowd or in a bar, and we’d have to go find them before each race.”
Push!
Each outhouse racing team has two pushers and one driver. Pushers largely determine who wins. They must sprint fast and try to take strides in unison so the outhouse stays steady. They cannot take their hands off the outhouse pushing bar, which helps avoid lane violations and crash accidents at the finish line.
“Pushers used to give a final thrust and let go just before the finish line,” says Phillip. “After a few too many wrecks, they added official ‘Outhouse Catchers’ who grab outhouses at the finish line and try to slow them before they hit the barriers.”
This year’s 37th Annual Outhouse Races featured 24 entries. Past races have welcomed as many as 27 and as few as 19.
Penn Valley Party Poopers
One benefit of the annual event’s growing popularity is that being a pusher is now a coveted position. The core group of rotating pushers for the Party Poopers are sons of friends of the Parkers, all of whom are regulars at the Tack Room in Penn Valley. The pushers say they are as proud of their race training regimen as are of their looney loo outfits.
Phillip Parker, 72, has competed at the Virginia City World Championship Outhouse Races for 24 years, longer than any other racer.
“Winning someday would be great, but we’re here to have fun,” declares Phillip.
Phillip’s wife Peggy, who has steered the Party Pooper entry for more than a decade, says, “About the time you start to feel afraid, it’s over.”
The 71-year-old – who weighs a dainty 105 pounds – has survived several outhouse wrecks and sideway slides with no serious injuries. Drivers work to keep outhouse wheels straight, because a wobbly outhouse can cost precious seconds or veer off-course and be disqualified. In the cockpit, Peggy has no peripheral vision because of the outhouse’s solid side walls.
“I never know at the end of the race whether we’ve won or lost until someone tells me,” she laughs.
In each matchup of the dozens of races during Saturday and Sunday’s competition, two outhouse teams race side by side along Virginia City’s C Street. The fastest pushers finish the slightly-uphill, 175- foot course in 10 seconds. The course is set uphill instead of downhill because racing outhouses have no brakes.
Winners compete in the “Golden Deuce” bracket and the losers bracket is named the “Crap Shoot.” Prizes include mounds of toilet paper, engraved toilet seats and whiskey flasks, and bronzed toilet plungers.
Always Occupied
Liquid Blue is the company that produces and markets more than 20 Nevada annual events including the International Camel and Ostrich Races, Reno River Festival, and Outhouse Races. Jess Horning is a managing partner and race announcer.
“I think one reason this event has grown over the years is the enhanced interaction with the crowd,” says Horning. “We offer spectators opportunities to compete in obstacle races, beer relays, or unrolling toilet paper as far and as fast as possible.”
He says downtown Virginia City is a naturally inviting venue because the main road, C Street, is also the primary commercial district.
“The crowd has this amazing experience watching the outhouse races,” Horning continues, “and in between they can pop into a bar or store to shop, or visit one of our many vendors.”
He says the C Street closure to vehicular traffic was extended this year to allow more than 5,000 daily spectators to spread out rather than be crushed together on either side of the short race course.
Admission is free. Some in the crowd drive State Route 341 from Reno to Virginia City each day of the two-day competition, braving steep Geiger Grade and its hairpin turns. Many stay overnight in Virginia City hotels, which are always sold out for the Outhouse Races. Loyal spectators made next year’s room reservations when they checked out this year.
Protest turned Party
The Outhouse Races are rooted in Virginia City history and can be traced to local government’s decision to ban backyard private privies in favor of indoor plumbing. Advocates mounted their outhouses on wheels and rolled them to city hall in protest.
Danny Farkash was inspired to compete in the 2026 Outhouse Races after his first visit as a spectator last year.
“I was hooked after I looked at the entries and saw how really creative these guys are,” says Danny, a general contractor from Southern California. “It inspired me to put out something that would be a little different than the artistry of the other guys.”
Farkash designed and built an outhouse plane modeled after stealth bombers, with working electrical lights and decorative missiles.
“It’s aerodynamically correct but too heavy,” Danny explains. “It weighed in at 290 pounds, which put us at a disadvantage. It’s no wonder some of the guys called us ‘Fresh Meat.’ I’m going to swap out the plywood for lighter weight material next year and get us closer to 200 pounds.”
Racing outhouses must weigh at least 200 pounds, stand six feet tall, and measure nine square feet. They must contain a toilet (with seat and container), door or curtain for privacy, and of course, toilet paper.
Family Feud?
Jason Merlis of Sun Valley, NV has competed for 18 years and built six racing outhouses. His daughter Sophia drives the Butt Putt and his wife Kelley drives the Commando Commode. Merlis is competitive, to a degree.
“If it’s between my girls, I root for Kelley because she’s been racing the longest,” smiles Merlis. “But if I’m going against Phillip, of course I want one of mine to win.”
Party Poopers in name only
Kind and soft spoken, Phillip is a racer who often helps fellow competitors fix outhouse parts that inevitably break. He and his Party Pooper team are crowd favorites, and their outhouse is painted pink to champion Breast Cancer Awareness. After the last race on the last day of the Outhouse Races, Phillip drives solo his outhouse down one of Virginia City’s steepest streets, reaching speeds of 20 mph yet managing to execute a 90-degree corner. He has no fear nor brakes.
At night, Phillip and Peggy stay in their camper van parked in the main parking lot of The Pit crew area.
“I tell everyone I’m the night watchman for the parking lot and I’ll watch over anything they want to leave in The Pits overnight,” says Phillip. “I make sure I tell first-time racers that because I want them to feel welcome.”
Phillip says he has no plans to quit racing outhouses.
“I’ll retire when I’m dead,” he vows.
“Just don’t die up here in Virginia City,” warns Peggy, who can steer a racing outhouse but is intimidated by the Parkers’ motorhome. “I can’t drive our camper van down Geiger Grade and make it home.”