Some Sociable Nude Hiking I

2024-04-03

We met Ken and Amie out near the entrance to the Ironwood Forest National Monument for a campout.

The planning had come a few weeks before, by them, for the day after April Fools. Coming down from the Prescott area, they had invited several naturists from many spots around Arizona. Not everyone could show up, but on Tuesday afternoon five of us were at ready and more would arrive Wednesday.

The weather gave us turquoise skies, the air in the high 70F’s and Wednesday would be even warmer. We had lucked into a warm few days in-between dastardly much colder and rainy stretches. This winter has been a series of unusually warmer streaks alternating with plenty of rainfall and chills.

These weather conditions generally will bring a strong seasonal blooming and The Ironwood Forest National Monument is one of the best showcases for that. If you catch it right, carpets of bright colors among the lush green desert trees are both fascinating and beautiful. The rugged red rocks and soil have produced a magical place. This is one of only two intact Ironwood ecosystems left on the planet. They are not only filled with Ironwood, but abundant saguaro and other succulents with the biodiverse ground cover.

After being greeted by our old friends and a new acquaintance, who knew us from this website, we get ourselves arranged for the night and catch up next to a set of warm gas burners between us. The sun drops behind Ragged Top Mountain, its jagged edges silhouetted along with the desert vegetation. It is framed as the sky colors slowly turn incredibly rich royal blues and then the cosmos appear in the dark skies.

We talk on before turning in. We watch that sky through the net of our tent in the quiet still night. We sleep deep and peaceful in the silence. A troupe of loud coyotes nearly comes through camp, waking me right before dawn.

In the morning, Ken, Dave and I head off to Ragged top, so I can orientate them to what I have in mind for hiking today. It is a comparatively richer desert in the monument. I stop at a familiar campsite. Soon, I find Dave standing with his arms out stretched breathing in the clear air, which is still affected by the rains that fell less than 48 hours before. He looks like he has found his element and expresses his delight to stand in a naked body in nature. At that moment, I know how he is a kindred spirit, with a true naturist’s understanding.

While we are gone, morning has brought three more walkers. Dave must leave, but after the preliminary getting names and greetings out of the way. Towels are arranged across seats and we are off to the desert forest.

As DF, myself and two others in my SUV head off to Ragged top again, three stop off for an easier walk down a wash.

I spot two bicyclist, two campers and two other vehicles, by the time that we have approached the trailhead. It feels crowded to see anyone at all along that 15 minute drive.

We have been talking, introducing ourselves, small talk. When asked about what coverings might be needed, I have the intention to take nothing, as we have done before here. As I step out and stand nude at my open door, I hear the sound of a truck behind me.

There it is, I use my open door to hide my nude body as we reach in and gather clothing. I wrap in a sarong. Two pairs of pants had been brought and are grabbed from the back seat. DF finds a sundress.

The truck takes a surprise turn onto a trail heading uphill and stops away from us. They don’t appear to be going our way.

We’re through the stile in the fence and traveled down the trail a bit. We head down into a dip of a gully and into a mass of purple/blue flowers.

They are with single white neighbors accenting the arrangement.

As the trail climbs back out of the slope of the deep gully, through the twisting trunks of mesquite and ironwood trees, it is enchanting to me, dainty and colorful.

There haven’t been but a smattering of desert flowers along the roads, but as we climb altitude what I had been hoping for shows itself in tiny but glorious ways.

Bright Arizona poppies, florescent yellow and then stunning glowing orange show themselves.

Some display variations and combinations of yellow and orange. These accent among the ever-changing beds of colors and species.

Safely nude once again, we eventually stop to turn and gaze across the valleys behind us. I explain how it all appears grey when the ironwood’s bloom into huge masses of lavender, deep purple to white. In mass the valley looks as if it is smoking.

We notice an unusual hedgehog cactus. This one has taller longer spires with golden needles.

A couple are in bloom with a more pinkish bloom, instead of the familiar glowing magenta flowers. They have less symmetry than those that we are used to.

Here is much to and admire.  The flowering plants are mostly delicate and tiny to larger and bolder.

Many species are adapted to the dry desert and have responded fully to this wetter Spring.

We climb single file up the ascending trail. The walk in the park trail has turned into more of a stair step. It is still an easy pleasant walk. DF and I explain our habit of announcing “bomb” when encountering errant jumping cholla bundles of prickers. They will painfully attach to a shoe and are difficult to get off. It takes a stick and a special practiced flick of the wrist to dislodge them. Half way up the hillside, we become surrounded by path-side Teddy Bear Cholla. A few bundles have been dislodged and rolled into the trail.

We stop looking behind us and notice a truck parked next to mine at the trailhead down far below. I squint to see if the occupants will be following us up the trail. I pan into this distance at the three vehicles and there‘s a glaring reflection on a much more distant windshield. I feel the useless piece of cloth under my shoulder strap and mutter a disgruntled comment about needing more elbowroom.

Small wonder after small wonder, this “hike” is more of a pleasant nature tour than a workout. It is a journey yet certainly no goal oriented march.

The trail has been used more since our first encounter with it and is now more distinct. It is much easier to follow, as it travels along the exposed granite portions. We arrive at the top of the saddle and to the familiar rock where we discover the untouched expanse of valley before us.

With the expanded use of this trail there is more of it leading toward the adjacent smaller peak of Ragged Top. The path runs along the saddle’s spine. A new exploration draws us and we travel a little and then a little more, finding ourselves on a nice flat outcropping with some added elevation. It is time to stop and sit.

Getting to know people and feel comfortable, often seems to come easier when everyone is naked.  Having just met a couple of hours before, there is some comradery as we talk. Personal issues come up and are confessed, nothing to hide.  Painful legal issues and facing personal fears are topics. Fast friends mutually enjoy the vibe, or beauty and grandeur that is about us. We study the mass of ragged cliffs and formations before us. We look for the illusive band of bighorn sheep that lives about.

Saguaros are growing precariously, somehow perched on sheer cliff sides with little to grow on, or attach to. They must have been seeded by birds in safety dozens of years before. Little details are seen, as DF zooms, takes photos. I’ll blow them up on the computer screen later, to make discoveries. One thing has my curiosity. I may have to come back later and climb up there.

The wind has picked up, up here. It caresses and then sometimes pushes a body as we talk and imbibe, naturally.

When it is time, we start back down. How we know the time belongs to the clock in DF’s stomach. There is also another path steeply heading down. We can see it way below. Curiosity will have us back someday to explore.

The decent is casual, stopping to take a photo here and there.

We have watched one truck leave, and know that our freedom will not be impinged. The one remaining has two small colorful figures standing beside it. We imagine that our distant nude tanned bodies may look like four people dressed in uniforms, to the unsuspecting untrained eye.

Little wonders appear here and there.

We stop.

They leave as we descend. At this point we’re closer to them. It feels like no problem to continue as we prefer. They are likely watching the dips in the steep road, not us.

We’ll ride back to camp, which is off of the monument boundaries to meet the other hikers.

I am on the forum of FreeRangeNaturism.com often, if you would like to converse.

© The owners of TheFreeRangeNaturist.org as of the year 2015 declare. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to TheFreeRangeNaturist.org with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.