My Private Place for Naturism #7

A continuing diary of a stealth naturist’s hidden trail:

Nothing is static in the universe. Adjustments must be made. Sometimes for the better, sometimes it is just time for a new direction when things are too stale.

Yesterday late afternoon, I took a walk out the jeep trail and up the hill. My intent was to check the overlook nearby and double check any views from that road and area. There had been traffic, but hassling with my wrap skirt as it bounced around off of my neck as I jogged, wasn’t necessary. Nobody was there as usual.

My observation discovered that my little gulch, where my favorite rock sits, runs to a drop off, creating another little gulch, which misleads others. It appears that the thing ends. My rock is in a hidden valley. That’s why the animals are staying there.


At the end of the road is a small cleared flat area to demonstrate that it could be a building pad. To the southwest, it looks across to a ridge. On the other side of that ridge, my trail goes over to reach the sunning boulder. This overlook is not likely to be occupied for a long time and infrequently. All I have to do is check over there just before going over the crest, and then proceed in view for 20 or thirty feet, then knowing that it is clear. The trail is out of sight from there, crossing a pretty purple quartz playground. This exposed few feet is on the adjacent property. If seen, maybe a, “Did I just see that?” could be murmured. It is a low risk.

Today, the winds disappeared, so I took my broom out there and shoved rocks out of the trail’s way, finalizing the route. After the next rain and some wind, it should only be noticeable to me. The piles of rock along the side shall be nearly natural looking. Where I left it most obscured, I use slightly distant larger landmarks for direction. I am using the old “sweep the tracks away with a broom” trick to hide the trail. It was very popular in the old westerns and Boy Scout lore. You gather a bundle of shrub, or stalks at one end, and voila, a broom.

This project reminds me of TV/internet preppers with secret stashes, and campsites who need access to deliver supplies and travel without leading someone to their hidden lair. The ol’ broom sweep makes that trail disappear in seconds. Having no plans to elude police, packs of roving marauders in the apocalypse, or live as survival in the wilderness, finding myself using these tactics amuses me. It is something new, fun and interesting to do nude, enjoying the weather and getting tan, and secretly.

The trail is full of observation of the changing desert; examples of its amazing diversity and wonderment are along the way.

Back at my property, I pondered where I might put a barefoot running trail, as I watched the sun set.

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