There is an obscure spot in New Mexico. It is right near Faywood Hot Springs. You might see the sign and ask, “What could be a City of Rocks?”
The exit is off of the little two lane road that heads east from the hot springs. Over a hill there is yet another hill. In the generally empty terrain, this hill sports a large mound with a stand of generally monolithic granite rocks.
These are impressively big rocks, or formations. Some are thirty or forty feet high.
We approach in our small air conditioned sedan. It is summer and hot.
Not many people are here. The visitor center is closed. This looks potentially, a possibility to find a nice place and not be bothered. We begin the loop road that we saw on the map at the kiosk at the entrance.
The formations are fascinating.
It is similar in texture and color to De Anza Naturist Resort’s locale, a favorite place of ours. Unlike De Anza’s desert, these all stand fortress-like. Some form a henge-like circle, in spots.
There are firepits and parking areas, some with picnic tables. Some sites are in the open and so not easily free range naturist friendly.
One makes almost an open air room, perfect for a fire pit, or ritual. It is partly enclosed for nudeness. Vehicles and tents could block the rest from an outsider’s view.
Continuing around the loop, there are arches and more standing monoliths. Nobody is around, but some comedic crows, which are sacred to some Native American beliefs, like Castaneda’s Don Juan. Looking around, this had to have been a sacred site. It could have been a fortress, perhaps.
There are signs of habitation, a modern sign points to matate grinding holes. Deciding to try them out, DF goes ahead.
Very soon, I see her getting swarmed by bees! One is in her hair and stings the top of her head. The aggressive bees chase her and then me, all the way to the car.
Gratefully, for once, we are not nude. We had seen that three girls were walking on the road this way and we put on coverings. The matates are farther back and we figured that we might need some cover here.
Sheltered in the car, DF’s hand feels a growing knot in the part of her hair. “Enough of that!”
There are several great spots, for the right day, the right evening, right temperature, footwear and the right spiritual ritual. Maybe a few drums, a didgeridoo, a guitar….
A dozen crows are conversing up on the windmill.
We try stopping at the caretaker’s house to warn of the aggressive bees, but nobody is home.
On the way out, there is another smaller version of this on a more elevated hill. This one also has stacks of rock. We drive up the alternative road for observation. Maybe this more diminutive arrangement could be “Town of Rocks” or “Suburb of Rocks of the City of Rocks.”
While trying the road up the hill to this “town,” there is no one else here. At the end of the steep route, plaques and observation areas have been provided.
We have this to ourselves, nude, until we can see people coming in the distance. A truck is coming. We’re done. We slip into the car, rather than clothing.
We wander down out of sight, stopping for a few more pics, but it is feeling like it is time to roll back into Tucson.
We stop at Gage Rest Area along the Interstate. There, there are several shaded picnic areas, ramadas. They have three walls to block sun and wind, which are only slightly open.
With just a little positioning of the car, we are freely nude in our activities. The highway and all are within our sight.
The naked lunch is fun. I’d say that the food tastes better. We have no worries, and our attire, or lack of it, definitely fits the summer weather conditions.
A large blue Interstate sign sits on the side of the highway. It tells us the mileage to Tucson. Now, we are getting “home.”
We have been going through strange habitats and towns for nearly 2 months, now. It has been long enough to forget much. Our hometown almost feels like just another town.
When we left, we had had a year and a half of drought. Our return is after a record amount of rain. Green is everywhere. The dominate view of the Catalina Mountains, which burned down during that drought, is hosting new growth. They are filled with brush, which is a different green that we have been seeing, but green colors. This is contrasting with bare reddish granite cliffs and slopes. Things have changed and are beautiful.
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I think you are just bound and determined to rename Faywood Haywood. In all seriousness, I have greatly enjoyed reading about your road trip across America. Thank you.