Redington Pass during the Monsoon: Part II

Wednesday 08-17-2017

My video card died to a grinding halt. Sorry, no post last week.

It had rained, but I know how quickly the waters at Redington Pass can dissipate and I will be very busy the next few days. To enjoy watery naturism in Baja Arizona one must “get it while you can.” I gathered a friend who hadn’t been to the nude use area of Redington Pass. She had been with her daughter to the lower end a few days before, coincidentally, and then once a few of decades before.

We have been hanging out with each other lately. She has been curious about this carnuding thing. She has been comfortably nude about her home even going back to days when raising her children. She had one experience, which she raved about, when taking a nude walk around a woods many years before. She shall be perfect for Redington. My goal is to show this yoga practitioner what a wonderful mindful meditation this place of wonder is.

I have popped out of the SUV, leaving my kilt and all other clothing this morning. There is no one else in the parking area. While my friend is setting out her pack’s arrangements, while I stand and wait nude. A car comes by with two middle aged people. My shoulder bag has the ability to hide my midsection. I then, just calmly step behind the SUV, keeping out of view.

As we are heading down the trail, I show her the clothing optional sign.

The monsoon has left an abundant green growth here in these hills. The trail is almost grown over with vegetation in this desert. The first change from the previous week, that I notice, is the proliferation on a species of vine on this hillside. It has erupted in multiple bouquets of lavender blooms. Not only is the trail decorated, but they reach far, in both directions. The place is a garden.

I direct her to the overlook of the beach area. She was impressed by the walk down into the canyon, but she is grabbing her camera for this sight.

As I arrive at the beach, I see a lady in a swimsuit sitting in front of a tent. I ask, “Did you spend the night?” to an affirmative reply.

Two moments later, my friend arrives and they call each other by name! The suited one tells us that she had seen my friend’s daughter there on Sunday, doing a photo shoot. She tells how she had been “doing the clothing optional thing” comfortably, but when the daughter showed up, she felt strange and began to cover herself with her arms and hands. Seeing people that one knows at a nude venue, can be disconcerting, but it passes quickly.

I thought back of that very morning, when, as I lay in her living room on a futon doing morning stretches nude, the same daughter had walked in unannounced and had been surprised. I covered to be polite, too. Such may be as a free range naturist in new territory.

The morning is getting later and it is getting warmer. After the walk down, my friend tells me that she needs to get “a breath” before going on to the jaccuzzi falls. No problem for me. I suggest a bedrock area in the foreground. We climb up finding a comfortable spot. I take my shoes off and proceed to the cool water to refresh.

After her short meditation in the sun, I am joined by my friend. She begins taking pictures and we discuss our boundaries, as to what can be done with the nude pictures.

As she is timidly getting used to her perception of “cold” water, her friend joins us, now skinny-dipping herself. She points out a bubbling effervescence, which is flowing from a small waterfall into a pool. She states that yesterday, she had sat there for approximately a half of an hour. When she got out she felt like the effervescence had charged her entire body. I know bubbles, I like them. so I slide in, taking her suggestion.

It is a strange thing. The soda water feel is nice and light, but there is a bubbling light mist rising from it. My deep breath through my nose surprises me. It imbibes the moist dust into my lungs. I go through a coughing bit to clear it out, but all the time it feels as though I am cleansing something down in there.

I also find a wonderful massage further in these falls where I am pounded on my back. The action leaves the churning water feeling very warm here. Redington is filled with new discoveries and sensations, which change with the rains.

I tell my reluctant chilled friend about the wonderful experience of the waters. She carefully slides in with some help, takes her place there, smiles and mentions that her trust of me is being enriched. It has her enchanted.

Grasshoppers are everywhere! I have seen multitudes of these in the grasslands upstream at this time of year, but not down here. See:

There are at least three species that I count. As I slip into the deeper water to swim, I notice there are many floating in the water. They seem to be acting as if they are amphibious. Curious, I let one onto my hand for refuge. It doesn’t hop off. I now find two, and I float over to a boulder to see if they will jump to safety. After a mild coaxing they both do jump, back into the water. Maybe, this is okay with their nature.

I try different granite formations and water flows. The crevasses are cool channels to explore. The sheeting flow, just inches deep gives me a refreshing plate to lay on. Another waterfall massages my body, as I slide through it.

Several people arrive, a young woman, three or four single men, then a man with a dog. All are collecting around the beach area. We decide to move to the jaccuzzi falls. Usually, it is a climb up rock faces to avoid the strong flow below, but today, I’m barefoot all over and take to the watery route. Each nuance of each step is a new experience, as we gather footing and places to grip hands, so the current and slippery rock doesn’t take us down.

Arriving at the jaccuzzi area, we find a couple there. He gives an enthusiastic thumbs up. They are apparently just leaving. We have a lunch and then I slide down a slippery slope into the larger pool to cool off. The jaccuzzi works today. The water level is down. I invite my cohort to try it. She is reluctant, and spends a time cringing in the chill of the spray next to me. She hasn’t fully submerged. She likes warm things, she says. When she does get under the fall and into the bowl, her eyes widen, she is delighted. It is amazing how a voice will change when excited. Her exclamation sounds like someone else, a young girl. She oohs and ahhs with abandon to the pleasure.

Later, as we sit back on the granite perch, she explains, “What could be more natural.”

We decide to investigate the crevasse that feeds the jaccuzzi. It is still filled with sand. I suggest that we explore some more, just as we are, that is absolutely naked in nature. She asks about our belongings and I explain the intent of freedom and abandon and the meditation of movement. We begin to climb.

At the top of the hill, she is greeted by a view of this gorge’s huge granite faces and water below. She has to sit. She wants to be alone with this.

I continue up the canyon, this time taking each waterfall and staying wet. The movement is slow. I have to place each foot hold under the water, careful not to slip or stub my foot, or step off spilling into something dramatically deeper.

I come to a spot which requires me to walk on small river rocks. I assume that it will be rough on my bare feet. With each step, I realize that there is sand under these recently deposited stones. They all sink into the sand, cushioning a path. This leads to a sandbar, and then some deeper water.

I’m looking at a grotto, which I haven’t been in for several years. There is bedrock on the floor, which has water flowing over it. It is as if the stream comes out of the earth. The roof of this cave is impacted small bounders trapped between huge boulders, but there is complete coverage. It is a fun looking ceiling. There is shade in there. I find a purchase on the slippery surface and lay back. The water is flowing around and over me. There is the only the sound of water. I lay and watch a buzzard gliding above me. A bright orange dragonfly buzzes me, as it passes by. The buzzard has found an air current. It circles and then continues on, disappearing behind the canyon wall, high above. Another, buzzard arrives and follows the same pattern on the invisible highway.

I make my way back, tiny frogs scamper up rock surfaces. Half a hundred grasshoppers jump at once in some places, after each step.

There is so much to life in each moment. I stop to swim in a whirlpool and attempt yet another waterfall massage. My feet experience sand, and then more small rocks, then submerged granite, then, up and out onto a smooth surface of granite. The granite changes from dark grey, to light and back, each footing is a different temperature. Some steps burn, some are comfortable, and then I’m back into the water. The sun is warm. Sometimes there is a breeze to change everything. I greet the breeze wet and dry.

I encounter my friend. She tells me that she didn’t need to bring her top down here, just the sarong. She is definitely catching on. I knew she would understand this.

We don’t want to sunburn. We begin to make our way home.

We say our goodbyes to her friend next to the tent and begin the ascent. The afternoon heat has brought out the scent of those tens of thousands of lavender blooms. Each breath is such a pleasure, as we pass through this natural garden.

There is a comradery among the people who come here naked. On many days, including this one, the drinking and loud music crowd in the lower falls is outnumbered by the nudes up here. Every one of these naked people values this place. They care for it and clean it. Many have become friends. It is friendly, liberating and peaceful. Many congregate at the beach area, but still others climb and hike deeper into the canyon in solitude. The trail was created by naturists decades ago. We own it.

A small board of directors of “Friends of Redington Pass” are attempting to take this away, as time goes by. They are stonewalling participation in any decisions by naturists.  For now, the Forest Service is not addressing this traditional use of the area, but the time will come. Please, lend your support.

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