Just Getting Started: Bears Ears I

2024-05-16

Getting together a system for camping for a month is no light chore. When packing up, every purpose must be accounted for and each item’s accessibility considered during daily routines. The SUV, a second gen Toyota 4runner, had to be divided into sections. The huge cooler, which is insulated to keep us away from civilization’s grocery stores for a week at a time, takes over the back seat. The other goods, most of the food that we would need for a month is crammed in front of it, leaving just enough room for my bag and its minimalist wardrobe. We expect to be in nature, or driving nude. A light kilt for me and DF a sundress, or two, is enough to stay legal when others are about. We have packed some warmer layers and a set of street clothes for shopping, etc.

I put two large grey bins in the back, one for the portable kitchen and one for tools, axes, camping equipment, etc. Around this, I placed two five gallon water bottles, plus two smaller gallons and four liters in our hiking bottles. I then had to utilize every square inch of space, packing the tent and sleeping gear. It works like a Chinese puzzle, shifting this to get at that. The tailgate is a work/cook bench and we did bring a portable table. We had spent weeks in advance organizing and planning this trip to be better embedded in the outback. The duration is to be open ended, but probably lasting around a month.

The first morning, packing is getting frustrating. It all just didn’t fit! Something HAD to give.

I had been studying the southeastern portion of Utah for months and still couldn’t know what to actually expect and had few solid goals in mind. You can only get so much education from books and online when the goal is to be left alone freely nude. We had yet to secure the solitude, or the magical the secrets. We had some friend’s experiences helping us. One couple told us anecdotes of how they had often found lesser canyons, just as amazing. He had explained, “I walked around a corner and there was a dinosaur in the cliff wall!” Books tell about popular places, but often, crowded places. I had no idea how many other visitors to expect in each area. I had received the advice that around Moab there would be many more and heard the term “crawling with people” for the entire month’s visit. Even Edward Abbey’s Arches National Park now requires reservations. We will have to let things unfold and adjust our schedule as each intrigue comes up.

We have to be ready for any weather. I rigged a sun/rain tarp off of the back, we have layers of clothing and bedding. I have a come-along, tow strap, air pump, and battery charger for four wheel drive/high clearance roads.

We have a library section with the computer, tech equipment, books, maps, etc. I have found the information and boundaries confusing. With Bear’s Ears as a national monument, then gutted and divided by Trump’s politics, then reinstated and in iffy legal confusion, references seemed undependable. The one certainty that I will soon discover, is that in my best imagination, I couldn’t know just how vast and rich a treat this region is.

DF will have herself stuffed into her seat with several comfort options. We disagreed about their importance, but it is her choice. I will be doing all of the driving of the awkward five speed, larger tires, and chirping rear auto-lockers. Still, I too sit surrounded and tucked in. Pistol, flipflops and camera under the seat, umbrella and flashlight in the door pouch, water bottle and maps about the console with the apparatus charger on the dash stuffed.  My elbow rests on binoculars and CD disks. Then, behind these seats it gets “REALLY” packed.

When it comes time, it all just won’t fit, even though I found a heavy duty cardboard box, which would have to sit above the rest and resolved to lose some of my rear visual and rely on mirrors. I consigned the luggable loo to it at DF’s insistence and some of her clothing went in there. It will have to be pulled out before anything else, at each stop. Still, cramming more space isn’t going to solve this problem.

The hard truth is that we don’t have any solid ultralight backpacking plans and might not use that equipment. We are heading into the unknown. Leaving that option behind concerns me, but there could always be a next time. It is huge up there. People tell of wandering in that area for 40 years and still haven’t seen it all. This may be only the first foray.   

Okay. Packed to the gills, we take off up Interstate 10…of course, running a few hours late.

The Break We Need:

Rather than driving eight or more hours up there, we take the opportunity to stop and visit our friends, Ken and Amie in Dewey. We can then can take another day, a more casual drive to Muley Point, which is just across the border.

We arrive, and chat over a slab of wild salmon, potato salad and a broccoli slaw and then, earlier to bed, earlier to rise.

The morning is wonderful. We step outside nude into air just warm enough in the radiant sunshine, and under clear blue skies. Refreshing air with that morning sun toasting bare skin is a delightful invigorating contrast.

I’ve written about this place before. It sits on a few acres on a hilltop covered with green thick Arizona scrub brush. Ken has created a stealthy route of trails through the hillsides, which keep a bare person undetected by those looking up at the hill. We view everyone below, as we stand naked before them, unbeknownst.

Ken has been at these trails for years. They have become even more extensive, maybe twice, since our last visit. It seems to me that there could be over a mile of walking here. Every so often, there is a place to meditate, commune, and read an inspiring signpost about spirituality, philosophy and or naturism. I’ll share a few here, and probably place one of his collection with each week’s post for your contemplation.

We begin our walk together, but the foursome fractures pretty soon. Yes, you can get lost and lose track of others in what has become this amazing maze. Ken and DF wandered, until I stumbled upon them again in the naturist fun.

Amie wasn’t seen again, until the walk ended.

We couldn’t really pass by our friends without stopping in, but I hadn’t realized the gift awaiting me. Arriving nude and greeted nude is just so welcoming.

We had endured the drive through the freeways of the greater Phoenix megalopolis. Life had felt hectic for weeks before. With the planning and packing, we threw a big Taurus birthday party and also a fundraiser for the sweat’s 501c3. There were several birthday activities, as we worked to get a summer garden started, then, my expanding studies of health and longevity and city life. We needed the release, to grasp that sense of feeling carefree on the road, to take that breath, and release the tension that no longer served us. More than I could have known while in the middle of it all, this garden was just the space that we needed. No agenda and some time.

I soon feel like I am “on the road again” with all of “that” left behind, or completed, or secured. The road ahead with its liberty, as a new direction to look forward to, I am able to sit with DF amongst the cozy dry jungle.

I’m noticing each step, watching how morning light brings to awareness life’s diversity and only here, now. This is the meditation that will bring richness to an exploration. Like centering by focusing on breath, a naked body brings a mind into the immediate experience, being more in the present, a huge place. That is a best state to travel and explore.

Eventually, we had about five or six hours of carnuding ahead of us and hugged again, this time, our goodbyes.

On the Road Again:

It had been many years since I had been up this way. As we passed through Flagstaff, Little America had somehow migrated across to the other side of the highway, in my fallible mind. I ran through a litany of memories there, my NAU college graduation, skinny dipping at a motel indoor pool, visiting the girls, the bars and the nature. Flagstaff, where packing six into a bathtub to group tandem shower and always, a champagne breakfast at Little America, hung over on Sunday morning became traditions.

 

The terrain soon took on that reddish patina, a barren landscape, a two lane highway through an iconic part of the western United States.

Navajo, and Hopi, round hogans with old trailers and prosperous homes with hogans. It appears these are people that value roots. I was passing through a totally new place, the unexpected with unfamiliarity. Sometimes, the effort to plan can be, at least in part, a fool’s errand?

As we neared Kayenta, in the corner of my eye, behind a local hill, a mammoth monster spirit seemed to be peeking, watching us. The spy is an unusual rock formation looming back there.

After passing through town, Monument Valley soon surrounds us. We’re seeing those same structures again, this time a magnificent view unimpeded and with their impressive brethren.

At times this frequently photographed valley seems déjà vu. Back when TV and I were young, when color television was just a few special shows on Sunday nights, the big three car manufacturers advertised. Chevrolet would place a new convertible atop one of these huge monuments and fly a camera around the sight. The mantra-like jingle was sung and still lies inside of my psyche to this day, “See the USA, in your Chevrolet, America’s the finest land to know….” The songs stuck to my mind like flies in molasses. Everywhere I looked triggers produced memories of big cars with decorative rear fins and the popular culture manufactured by Madison Avenue, “Dum, dilly dum, Bonanza!”, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Dina Shore.”  

We passed through these on very long straight stretches of road, sometimes seemingly disappearing into the distance. A sign reminds us that this was the location for the “Forest Gump” scene where he was running across the country. Several cars are parked here this evening at the pull-offs. I made note that if we came back this way, I’d have to arrange a nude shot of me running down the middle of this road and its mesmerizing view. For now, this remote spot in a vast desert is crowded!

We cross the San Juan River through a shallow piece of the huge canyon at Mexican Hat’s bridge. Soon the town name’s origin, a question which I had been pondering, appears.

I review my directions and as the massive shadows grow out from the canyon walls, we learn the nature and meaning of the Moki Dugway. We’re out here on a very good straight two lane highway, passing the entrance to Valley of the Gods and suddenly, curiously, the pavement ends.

The Moki Dugway climbs at an 11% grade with dirt and rock surfaces. It switchbacks and many spots are not wide enough for two vehicles. A brake failure, or fool coming down the slippery surface too fast, would cast both of us over the shear drop-off of several hundred feet. There are no guardrails. It looks as if flying, save for the sight of road over the SUV’s hood and the close cliff wall next to me.

I’m glad to end the hairy journey, as I reach the open plain above. The view had been stunning, as I quickly glanced to the side, before returning my focusing to the precious dirt in front of me.

The tension laden conveyance was built by a mining company to haul ore years ago. Moki steps are Native American indentations in the surfaces of shear rock walls, ladder-like, to reach safe perches where they often lived. This way was “dug” into the side of the cliff walls. Hence the apt cultural colloquialism, Moki Dugway.

We are soon traveling past a sign that warns, “IMPASSABLE WHEN WET.” It has the effect of one of those “Watch for Ice on Bridge” warnings that one encounters in the summer. A slick rock surface, with thick red powdery dust piling up and a struggling pinion pine forest watch us pass.

The next sign tells of public campgrounds. I find a rough road to the right that needs high clearance and maybe a 4×4 high setting. We want solitude and freedom. I know that this will follow the canyon cliffside and its views and away from the public campgrounds. I had studied the layout on satellite imagery.

The tent pitching options a few out here. The sun has set. We are out of the truck, running about at dusk, enjoying uncontained naked, looking for a good spot, as we’re constantly distracted by the wondrous world about us. We can see the glimpses of the magnificent canyon off of the ledges, but must keep to task, restricted by need for daylight. There is little topsoil, just sand and errant rocks, but we find a spot, as the wind picks up. The unfolding tent attempts flight. DF quickly gets dinner together, as I make up our sleeping quarters. We fall asleep under a grand host of stars and in spite of a nearly full moon.

We’re planning to get up during the colors in the sunrise and thoroughly explore this place. There’s no scheduled plan past that, no rush.

I am on the forum of FreeRangeNaturism.com often, if you would like to converse.

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