Sonoita and South, Huachuca Mountains, Miller Canyon

2012 Monsoon Season

We’re reminiscing back to 2012. It was a maiden cruise in the 4×4 that I had just purchased. One thing that I didn’t have for this was my camera. DF’s camera bit the dust soon after we left. It had been acting up. The result had been a picture-less report. I recently pieced together some illustrations and…better late than never:

DF and I are waking up at her place on an open calendar Saturday. Lying in bed looking out the window at blue skies and sunshine, I just feels right, “What the heck, Let’s just spontaneously go down to your old a stomping grounds in the Huachuca Mountains. Down there are some spots I haven’t visited in twenty or thirty years and some areas where we have never been.”

We now have this 4×4 truck, so there is no stopping us. We pack up some food, tank up and everything else happens to be all ready to go. I don’t have any clothes, but the “needing to take special care for” light colored ones, that I wore when going out and dancing last night. BUT then, if we play it right, we aren’t going to need clothes anyway. I do have my leather huaraches. That’s good, Arizona can be rough on bare feet.

We are traveling down the Sonoita Patagonia road (State 83), after turning off of I-10. This is a picturesque route. On the official maps, it is noted and labeled for its beauty. Instead of heading to Sierra Vista directly, we decide to try continuing south, along the western side and then under the southern end of the Huachuca Mountains (Huachuca means strong wind in a Native American language). We’ll be traveling along within sight of the border with Mexico generally.

All along, there are three border patrol vehicles to every civilian vehicle. It often gives things a militarized zone feel, especially with signs warning about smuggling in the area. The huge border fence runs all along this area.

I remember back in the day, when a friend of the family would hike over the border every Monday for his regular job in Sierra Vista and then go back home each weekend. It is just a rude situation now, with all of the politics creating this war on this and that, making an expensive mess.

The day is perfect. There is some elevation here, so the temps are generally 7 to 10 degrees Fahrenheit cooler (Tucson is something like 106F today). On this day the monsoon rains, which most often come up through here on their way to Tucson, have decided to travel off to the west, so we’re getting partly cloudy, blue skies, with no storms. We will find out later, that Tucson got pummeled while we drove where the weather suits our outfits…comfortably nude.

I open the sunroof and windows and we let the breeze cover our bodies sensually.

There is a rest stop toilet just at the Sonoita town line. It is time for a break. I am totally naked and pretty much in their small town in the open high desert grasslands. I have to put on my wrap-around when walking around. However, to check the map, I wait for two trucks to pass and then stand, hiding behind the open car doors. It is kind of a sneaky fun, liberating the place so to speak.

All along this portion of road, it has been very beautiful. The monsoon has it grassy green and flowered. Mesquite and cottonwood grow here and there. The road meanders through hills and creeks. Some road parts are underwater in the dips for these creeks. The truck splashes through and we sometimes catch a whiff of the scent of dusty water. It reminds me of many places in the California grasslands, before population. Those places that are no longer so isolated.

We find the road paved as far as Parker Canyon Lake. It is smaller lake, formed by a dam. We find that it is beautiful and peaceful.

Looking around, I think that it might be used for nude kayaking. There are rentals here. I make note to look into that.

There are quite a few people here camping and we have to do a quick cover-up at one point. A family of walkers is coming down the same little road as us. They might glance down into our laps, or notice DF’s chest.

The road turns to dirt after the lake turnoff and winds up a steep hill of switchbacks with plenty of washboards. The traffic drops with the lack of pavement. I easily get out nude and put the 4-runner into a 4×4 high. With that, we just magically grip down on the rocky slippery surface.

There is a plain-like valley down the road after that. The flood plain from the Huachucas stretches for many miles. You can see the elevation dip and then regain in the mountains in Mexico.

In the west are the Patagonia Mountains and the massive Huachuca Mountains to the east.

Huachuca Mountains in Background

We stop in the road where we can see anyone coming for more that a mile on the flat plain.

I turn off the motor and listened to the breeze carving through the silence. There is a wispy grass growing in the gigantic field. This area had burned with the big fires in June 2011. The grass is now about the height of wheat and moves like that in waves, as we watch the wind. It is a sensual delight to walk naked through it all. The warm breeze wraps through body curves as the grass tickles our thighs. We watch it all coming and feel the wave’s arrival.

Down amongst thin grassy stems, there are numerous flowers sprinkled throughout, a world of surprises under a miniature canopy of forest. We begin to walk, counting the different varieties of blooms.

It is compelling us to just keep going through this for its miles, wandering away from the 4×4. However, we would be caught if the border patrol happened by. Hiding would be suspicious. The truck parked on the side of the road near the border would also be suspicious. But then again, I’m thinking. “What kind of smuggler, drives a bright red truck, naked.” Oh well, there are many more miles to cover, and a choice to avoid a hassle. We decide to explore on.

At about this time, DF’s camera just jams to a stop during its last photo.

We drive on, scouting for possible nude hiking trails for the future and taking in the vast beauty of this GREEN area. The foothills where the steep mountains begin to rise had been burned, there are occasional rock outcroppings exposed. The grass and flowers make for the green hills. If some of you were to wake up and look up at them, you might think that you are somewhere in Ireland.

We find a side road and drive down it to stop. We eat sandwiches, grapes, Cliffbars, etc. We snack as we roam around the area, learning about the alien, to us, combinations of rich flora. In just weeks this will turn brown and dry. This is the ideal time during the rains to be here. Nobody is around. We can hear anything at a distance. I suspect that there are fewer tourists because of the monsoons storms, the heat and the border war’s fear mongering. We are safely naked, as naturists in our element.

We eventually travel up through the pass that DF had been married at many years ago. She has stories to tell, as the landscape jolts open her memories. We search out the old organic farm that she had worked back in the early 70’s as a young woman. It is gone. We survey the destruction from the massive fires. All along, we feel quite free.

When the pavement comes back, we decide to drive up into Miller Canyon, to where she had lived many years ago. You might look up Huachuca Mountains on youtube to see more of the area. The house is still there, as part of a bed and breakfast bird watcher/hikers delight.

A middle aged man comes out to greet us and tells us his name. DF surprises him when she smiles and tells him, “I used to babysit you when you were little.”

Things change. We had changed, into clothes, to visit the B&B. The significant fire damage and later, the freak floods, have made for a great deal of erosion in the once quiet creek. The fires had destroyed nearly all of the apple orchard that DF had planted, back when.

We drive back down the canyon road and park, walking across the road to what DF has named “MY rock.” It is a big one. It is the side of a hill. She has mentioned this place to me many times. We grab water, a snack, two hand-drums, a shaker and a tambourine. I follow as she climbs up the side of the hill, aka, “MY” rock.

We sit and cross legs and meditate. You can see far into the distance, mostly Mexico. After a lone truck passes, we disrobe. We have been nude all day and it just seems weirdly wrong being dressed. We can hear the truck going up the unpaved canyon road and we would hear anyone approaching. We can sit with a drum and a strip of cloth before us, in case anyone passes.

We begin to spontaneously drum and as we do the wheat-like grass begins to dance rhythmically with a light breeze. It is as if the drumming itself has awoken the hillside. Her magic rock is indeed wonderful. She has told me many times that she has always felt that she had had a past life here in this canyon. We hold each other, we kiss and I would swear that I am kissing an Indian maiden through centuries of time.

As the sun sets, she shows me a large vein of quartz crystal nearby. We each grab a few specimens that have purple veins in them. We’ll take them home to the rock collections that we have accumulated during each outing.

On the way to Sierra Vista, we visit the neet hippie dome house that DF had built with her husband in the 1970’s. It was an early example of the passive greenhouse cooling systems that the University of Arizona developed back then. There is a shopping center next door in the once rural spot. Things change.

We decide to eat in town at a Mexican food restaurant. I pull up to the front door right off of one of the busiest streets in Sierra Vista, naked. DF is miffed, but laughing. I don a pair of boxer shorts in the truck and step out into the parking lot with my long pants in hand. Just at that moment, an older couple comes out of the front door and need to get into the car right next to my driver’s door! I politely make room for his wife to pass and get into their car, as I walk to the other side of my truck. There I use DF’s door to hide and put the pants on. In my plan, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone coming out before my pants went on.

We continue, DF had already pulled her sundress over her head and is combing the wind and dust out of her hair. We go in and eat some great chili relleno. The chips and salsa are exceptional.

We wait until after the highway’s border patrol station checkpoint to get undressed again. Heading back to Tucson and arriving before midnight, we’re tired and contentedly climbing into bed…naked.

Just a note: I was in the middle of moving out of my house last week and no internet. We will now be leaving the country for a couple of weeks. I can’t be sure, but I would expect that there will be some interruptions in my weekly postings until the first of March. In the archives, there is plenty to read, as if the tales happened just yesterday. I’ll soon have fresh nude in Mexico tales to go with those that I haven’t yet published.

Be sure to click any image to enlarge it as you desire.

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