Nude Across America Pt.21: Turtle Lake

2021-07-10

On the way in to visit old friends in Battle Creek, that is while we were lost with a GPS and the wrong address, we passed by Turtle Lake Nude Resort. We made up our mind to stop there on the way out. I’ve been curious for a long many years. It is big enough to have rock festivals. The sun’s out for now.  Online, it says that there’s a dance Saturday night.

The morning of our departure, we stock up on fresh blueberries and fresh Michigan cherries at a local farm/ice cream store.

We find our way, after a friendly voice on the phone sets us up with directions.

How big is it? The entrance has a set of green grass rolling hills around a winding drive down to registration. There is no tall fence needed here.

During registration, we are given the tour on the back of a golf cart, which will give us the opportunity to choose our campsite.

There are dozens of Canadian Geese out in the fields. The driver explains that they are protected. From the look of it, the population is coming along just fine.

Poles with chains out in fields tell us about nude disk golf.

The first stop is the sprawling clubhouse. The indoor pool with a jaccuzzi has a water volleyball game taking place with intensity. The decor for a grand scale talent show is being put up as we wade through boxes in the bar/dancefloor area.  Along with the locker room with showers, it all follows any requirement for a well-appointed country club.  However, naked people wander through, unlike a country club, so we’re at home.

The snack bar, outdoor pool, tennis and pickleball courts, and a well laid out boule court are up near the hill that faces the big stage. The numbers will be larger when health issues will allow us all to gather freely.

There are a couple of neighborhoods tight with travel trailers, tiny houses, and very nice wheeled digs. We decide to take a walk through at some time.

Our choice is made, a spot close to the clubhouse, a sink and toilet. We pitch camp.

We have dinner, of course pop into the jaccuzzi and also watch some water volleyball.

The shower feels good. Afterward, I like the cool air over my skin and the sense of rediscovering that it is okay to leave the shower and wander a public place wearing only that skin. The other world doesn’t know what they are missing, trapped in their hangups, fears, social mores and bundled up restrictions.

Barefoot all over, fresh out of the shower is how we arrive and stake claim to our table with a pair of towels. We’re ready for the evening’s entertainment.

We are genuinely surprised at some of the talent.

Some nude singers play their music. Naked people acting like they don’t know it, come onto the dance-floor as a stage. Each presenting us with a different act.

 A naked master of ceremonies vows to never do it again, but they’ve all heard that before. A magician makes bottles appear and disappear. Ropes vanish, elongate and shrink with professional agility. A Dog act goes off without a hitch. The dog however isn’t fully nude like the owner.

A group of several act out as a row of seating in a theater. One couple is forced to sit separated in the row. This pretense creates a sort of Telegram game of miscommunication and mayhem. It is hilarious. There is no slouching here.

For the finale, one of the owners does a standup routine. Ya know, he’s pretty darn good at it.

It is a good crowd, some have taken the trouble introduce themselves to us, hoping to help us feel at home. We walk off naked into the night, down a dark two track road, across a cute wooden bridge and a cozy tent.

As we go through the morning routines, several golf carts cruise past our corner lot. The grounds are sprawling and these vehicles are numerous. Some just seem to be out on a naked Sunday drive. All of them are personalized or customized. There are his and hers, coed, hot pink, Harley Davidson Editions, and a jeep wanna be. One is jacked up with some kind of lift kit. There are old and new, mag wheels, toy stuffed monkeys hanging on them, a monster truck that looks ready for snow, a flame paint job, plastic  cloaks and flags and flags and more flags.  A plethora of little boats with personalities are quietly rolling around at nine and a half miles per hour.

I take some time to pray, and part of that is for some sun. When I’m not covered, the sky shouldn’t be either. Sun with very good timing, comes to the outdoor swimming pool, as I meld into a comfortable recliner.

We go swimming. There is a good space in-between folks holding conversations and smiling at offhand quips.

This place is filled with people who are used to being seen nude and seeing others nude. Clothing is set aside with all of the difficulties of the outside world. What I notice the most about this place and I’ve been to several, is the genuine smiles plastered on everyone. This situation obviously makes people happy. It is consistent everywhere. A nice comfortable place to stay and interact, not pretentious and fun. People seem to feel that they belong to a community. It befuddles me to think that there are people outside who disapprove.

We lay in the sun, sip on liquid and go swimming some more. The water is great.

We decide that it is time to see the rest of this place. Moving into stroll mode, we embrace and follow the road into the neighborhoods. There is a dock on the pond across the street. Turtle Lake doesn’t actually come over here. The main body of water is just past a more shallow inlet. It makes for a nice view, some insulation from the textile world and a good wildlife habitat.  Around the peninsula we see some fellows fishing off shore.

This is Turtle Lake Resort, I like to refer to it as “the land of the plastic turtle.” There is an unimaginable number of turtle depictions in the yards here. They are in all shapes and sizes, colors and made out of anything from glass to junk. DF is intrigued, as she has her own turtle collection at home. You can never have enough turtles in and around home apparently. They are very very cute.

We notice a distinctive trend in the population. So many of these decorations are Florida oriented. They’re made from seashells, with aquatic and Jimmy Buffet orientations. Just by looking, we can tell that many of these are snowbirds, who spend their winters down south. Some Texas, a few out west, but Florida is a destination of choice, if you live in the north and east.

Live with no internet? People know what is going on here. It’s a small town. As we walk, a couple of folks recognize us and call out a hello. Already somebody knows our names! I mentioned the genuine smiles before.

A retirement community for some, several have mentioned Cyprus Cove, but there are children here, not just old folks. Three kids are dressed up and roll playing. Big foot meets Peter Pan with plastic swords. Also there’s a winged fairy, maybe tinker bell completes the trio.

We finish our tour and naked exercising stretch, curiosity is satisfied, then.. guess what? More swimming.

We think to take in a game of French boule before dinner, but the play has already ended. We are told that in the caddy shack shed, we may help ourselves to putters and balls. Out front of the clubhouse is an extensive miniature golf course. The need for a little work and cleanup adds to an already challenging course.

DF is beating me. She doesn’t know much about golf. I started play as a teenager on courses around here. I am crushed and humiliated….

There is one big problem this year and it is the talk of the town. “Worse in the twenty years that I’ve been coming here!” I remember them some years from my Michigan days. Mosquitoes can be horrible. We get swarmed. We have to eat dinner wearing CLOTHES! I have a hoody covering me like a burka, long sleeves and pants to eat dinner. “What’s for dinner? Mosquito soup!“ We have nearly used up our bottle of organic flower repellent. The advice is not to use the nature trail in the woods because of them.

Sometimes you swat the mosquitoes and sometimes the critters eat you. They’re winning their game today. We do have a reprieve while washing the dinner dishes. The sink is outside of the men’s shower/restroom. The inner room’s vent dumps outside over the sink. I flick the switch and the bugs blow away. Tonight, we shall dance inside, while the pests lay siege to us outside. It’s like a big bad wolf is outside of our brick house.

We take the same table next to the dance floor tonight.  We strip from our bug armor right there. We are so ready to get out of the offensive garb, we undress like the stuff is on fire. We leave our bags, taking a pair of towels with toiletries and go to clean up down the hall. The hot water never ends. There is plenty space, and I come out feeling like a new man in my re-birthday suit.

We’re lovely naked, but there is a lot of costuming about. As the music starts from the DJ in the tiki bar, orange fluorescent shirts and lingerie glide out on the dance floor glowing with black lights. There are tops, without bottoms, but no bottom without tops and then there is flesh. We are still feeling the restraints of a year of the Covid lockdowns and are determined to make the most of this and make up for the lost time.

There is a mix of Motown artist and some of what I’d blindly call latter day disco.  Some older people that I have seen around today act like they can barely walk, but they get up and dance, actually loose and really well. A hobble, turns into a moving and shaking disco queen.

People are so friendly. When it is time to leave, we get bundled up to brave the short bug bite gauntlet walk to the tent. A friendly couple, our neighbors, make it hard to turn down their offered ride.

We are heading to northern Michigan tomorrow. There is yet another storm system on its way here, tomorrow afternoon. We have made arrangements to get an escort around the resort to take photos for our website in the morning.  Common policy denies any photography.

Bright and early, we hear rain drops hitting the tent. The weather is starting to act up ahead of the forecast. Rather than having a wet tent to pack and store, we climb out into mosquito swarms, bundled up.

The tent is packed away in record time, just as our escort pulls up in a golf cart. She came early as it looked like the rain would be starting.

DF and I have a few shots planned. We don’t want to take much of our host’s time and staging means naked, naked with mosquitoes and the coming cold rain. We seem to outrun the buggers with the golf cart and the attendant breeze. DF is at ready, nude to jump off the cart and into photo position. We drive around the resort, stopping as planned. The geese are out in mass, by the lake. We stop to get DF in a picture with them. She inadvertently is herding them before trying out the water toys.

The water features and facilities get captured. Dealing with the conditions becomes almost laughable, but that is something that keeps the smile on DF’s face during the threatening discomforts.

We have a story for you and so we carnude off, hoping to outrun that rain and explore the north and western part of Michigan’s  lower peninsula.

I’m at FreeRangeNaturism.com Often, if you wish to discuss anything naturism.

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