Meeting the Nudukes and Stalking Flamingos

2014-09-14

We drive up to New River Arizona after dropping off DF’s wonderful granddaughter. Somehow, we get there without bothering to get undressed! I comment and query to DF as we near our destination, “Wow, this is the first time in a long time that we have traveled anywhere dressed. And we’re heading to a naturist resort to top it off! Doesn’t it seem weird to be going to a naturist resort wearing clothes?”

Upon arrival at Sangrala Ranch Resort, we strip completely immediately, that is as soon as the car’s motor turned off. We go into the office, check in and will wait for Nuduke to give us a call to rendezvous. They will have been traveling a long distance today and have to check into their resort and settle in, as well.

We decide that our wait will be in the pool. We grab two towels and cell phones  and place them on a nearby chair as we skinnydip. The phone rings, I jump out of the pool and answer. We have time to go get dressed and travel to the Westin Kierland Resort & Spa, which is a very nice upscale resort in Scottsdale.

Have you ever had a correspondence with someone online frequently through years, but never meet in the flesh? This was such a couple. Nuduke and I had been members of “The Secret Naturist Society.” It was a sort of internet pot belly stove in the general store kind of place. A group of us would sit around and discuss our naturist lives there. Generally, talk was about a stealth exploit, where one wouldn’t normally be naked.

I have little to know about the Mrs., other than that she is not apt to participate in social nudity.

Stealth in the Night

We arrive, recognizing each other from pictures. We are all smiles, and greet each other with warm hugs. There are comments about the heat. It is probably only a 100F with low humidity, but how different this is for a couple from England.

A” typico” Sonoran/ Mexican restaurant has been chosen by us. The food was recommended, the ambiance is to be filled with cheap Mexican tourist things, like velvet paintings. It had been described as “a hole in the wall.” The food had to be good to keep its popularity for 30 years.

I must say that these are two wonderful people. Mrs. Nuduke is a lively, likeable, congenial, relaxed and intelligent woman. Not stuffy, or ridged as I had feared, in any way. We have a great time together. Every so often Nuduke, or I, seemed to emanate a snickering small laugh, as it soaks in that here we are sitting next to each other having dinner, after so many years.

After a fun dinner, we go back to their resort, deciding to look it over in a casual exploration. We find a couple of acres of a swimming pool with a canal meandering around an island, but the place is closed at night! We feel a tad disappointed, but not undaunted, there is still much to explore.

Riding Oso Sidesaddle

Eventually, Mrs. Nuduke is wearing down and looking at a coming balloon ride at 5:30 am. She decides to sit back, opting out of the exploration of the golf course. She sits to read some of the gift materials of Baja Arizona that we have given them.

The golf course is very open. There are people with children out on the fairway playing this dark night. I already know that there were two fairways next to the driving range from observing the google satellite map photos. We are looking right up and out one of them. We begin our walk up through this valley which is inclined steadily uphill into the darkness. First and immediately, DF and I dump our shoes. Grass is such a luxury for us. The only place to find this much of it in Tucson is a golf course, or city park. There, the golf courses are filled with wildlife and dangerous critters at night. This place is firmly in the middle of an urban area. Scottsdale has rapidly grown around it. It has been too many years since I had been able to enjoy grass like that. The sun has been down long enough to give us a pleasantly warm dry evening. We continue, delighted.

In the dark, I find a ridge and a level area at the top of the hill. I think that it is a green, but then there is another. It is apparent that this is for a t-off. No divots are to be found, just smooth manicured green grass. I had been heading here to see what is on the other side of this valley’s bunkers and the view is 360 degrees. We can see everything for miles. I am naked in seconds.

Sometime around this time, DF and Nuduke have acquired the same nude state. It was unspoken and obvious, that this is a perfect Secret Naturist opportunity. Fabulous! How wonderfully appropriate for a rendezvous amongst members of our internet forum group.

We sit, we walk and we talk. We lay on the grass, watching the evening and discuss stars. I could stay all evening until sunrise cheerfully, but there is an early wakeup call for the Nudukes. Of course, our exploration party’s other member couldn’t just be abandoned.

Nuduke gets dressed and DF dons her skirt, staying topfree. I can’t let go as easily and carry my clothing. Dang, it is just perfect. As we near the lights of the hotel, we have to make appearances. Still, DF and I have made our return a route to ensure optimization of the wonderful sensation of barefoot on the grass in rolling hills. You can try google maps satellite images for the Hotel. It’s the fairway west of the lake, which reflects the many hotel lights wonderfully.

We said our good-byes reluctantly. It was all so pleasurable with these two, and we didn’t know when we might see each other again.

DF and I return to the naturist resort. I decide to leave the long pants on in case I might be stopped. It would be too difficult to put them back on in the small car.

Back at our Nude Haven:

DF and I love to dance together. There had been a dance at the club and we are hoping that it isn’t over with. As we cross the resort properly attired in our natural best, we hear music coming from the club house. With our two small sit towels and a flashlight, we come through the doors. We find our way to the nice wooden dance floor with an actual mirrored disco ball above. There are eight or ten celebrators left,. They are mostly having a wonderful naked time and all dancing every dance. We fit in. We dance on until after midnight.  We wriggle to rock and roll and we spin around swinging and swaying in each other’s arms.

As is seemingly the appropriate thing to do, we eventually go into the Jacuzzi next door to relax ourselves, pamper our bodies and then are off to bed.

A Lovely Morning:

The next morning’s light comes in through the screened window with bird songs. The sun’s luminescence is coming through the trees onto the balcony. We are delighted to freely step out bare from the bottoms of our feet. We immediately feel the warmth and are awakened by the beams. We feel the contrast of this and shade, as patterns dance upon our nudity. We lean on the paint smooth gray banister and railing of our little porch.

Beyond, there is a large wash, now empty. It has been full recently, from a hurricane’s rains coming to the desert in a record downpour. We decide to take an early morning walk in the cooler air and the shadows that we know we will find up the wash. DF gathers our abandoned flip flop shoes. I slip my camera bag’s strap over my head to rest on a shoulder and then across my chest.

The sand is still washed smooth like a beach, so our shoes soon disappear, which are by plan, our only possessions, but for that camera. The summer desert sun still hasn’t heated the sand. We know from experience when using our naked bodies to feel in washes, that cooler air stays in a wash in the mornings, after it flows downstream the night before.

This resort is filled with trailers and motorhomes. There is a certain mom and pop air about it. There are many odd decorative objects in the little front yard spaces, which belong to the more permanent residents.

Thongs rot on the trees here. There is no need to harvest them among nudists.

This route, we figure, would be more of a nature trail and lead us off property. We watch butterflies, and listened to the quail quietly coo.

We look for tracks to see who might have been in the neighborhood recently.

Suddenly, I grab DF’s attention with a motion of my hand. I press my finger to my lips and whisper, “flamingo, shh!” I carefully creep toward the pink foul, with my camera already drawn. I snap a picture through the brush and then creep further in for a better closer shot.

DF laughs.

DF Sneaking up on the Flamingo

We wander further, finding a back trail behind the tennis courts. There in the thick vegetation which holds soil along the beneficial wash, we find a population of fairies!

Clothing is Apparently Optional Among Fairys

We make our way back to bed.

Arizona Flying Fish with Yet Another Flamingo!

After a brunch of Mexican food left overs, with blue corn tortilla chips that we had brought along, we pack up and clear our room. With the chores accomplished, we drag ourselves out to the pool once more. We enjoy floaty rafts and meeting friendly others. The jaccuzzi and sauna are welcoming. We have ice-cream and read in the loungers. We bide our time watching our skin’s color slowly deepening.

We decide to take a shower in the public three head facility. It is a small room off of an open causeway. There is no door. This is something that I have always enjoyed here in the free flowing fresh air. We leave our towels and keys on a stone ledge. With toiletries in hand, we slip into the warm massaging spray.

As we bathe this time, several people happen in to join us, rinsing off from the pool. The lack of solitude is okay. All things feel friendly here. We are liberated with a group shower. Something more than grime and the chlorine wash off of us. It is a liberation.

Then, my favorite part of the routine, we towel off in the outdoors. The body just gets a little drier in the desert air, the experience is more sensual to the skin, the contrast makes for a feeling of refreshment.

Stealth on the Trip Home:

We drive down the Interstate highway toward Tucson. We find this newly manufactured downtown-like main street mall thing to have our dinner.  We get dressed in the parking lot before entering the restaurant. It is very good and satisfying.

The car is parked in the single story main street arrangement. Yet with people all around, I manage to disrobe for the long drive home, discretely. DF is in the passenger seat. She just calmly waits until we are further down the highway.

We are fine and out front at DF’s place in Tucson unloading the trunk in the night air, when her neighbor surprises me. She is coming home from work and driving up the driveway with lights on. I am startled. I jump, and quickly rush through the front door looking for my pants. I quickly put them on to finish with a pleasant,” good evening” to her.

Please, remember to click the unseen pictures to see the Flamingo, then click the pic to zoom in.

Flamingos are not indigenous to Arizona. They must be flown in in boxes.

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