In this Part 2, we are continuing up the trail that we began in Part 1, here:
Fall Colors Celebration 2024: Pt.1
As we walk, our bodies are illuminated by the dominate reflected colors.
I snap photos as yellow and then pink light make our skin change its hew. In amongst the cover of a group of young trees we pass through a room of lavender and stop. There is a still warm air in here, and a scent identifying the local species. It is a unique space.
Politics create grief, sad, anger, anger, sad. We have been struggling. We needed a break, if not the cure, which is to get naked and get bowled over by nature. We needed to find what is immediate, get away to “it” and find perspective. It just so happened that in the Fall, leaf changes are happening and we had set aside the time to re-experience that splendor months ago.
These photos tend to speak for themselves. Instead of a more usual story with pics, this may be more pics with a story. I’ll often just pepper this short story with photos in a mostly random manner….
The last issue of “N” magazine had a couple of articles in it authored by me. This is one. I’m adding several extra illustrative photos that weren’t in the magazine:
I have a friend that produced a video documenting 69 different arrangements for wearing sarongs. As clothing, they can be elegant or practical.
Borrowing a phrase, “But wait, there’s more!” I use mine as a multi-use addition to my ultralight backpacking and nude hiking outfits. It is a constant companion. It may not slice, or dice, but probably can give duct tape a run for its money as an all-purpose problem solution. The following is a short list.
A sarong is light and folds up into nothing, so it’s easily packed out of the way. It is often all the clothing that I need, and I can wrap it around my waist as I get from the trailhead parking out into the sticks. When hiking nude, if the need comes, it is a quick cover-up. It can be a covering for a female hiker, too.
The last issue of “N” magazine had a couple of articles in it authored by me. This is one. I’m adding several extra illustrative photos that weren’t in the magazine, here.
Defined as two naturists, DF and I love to immerse ourselves in nature, our bodies as naked as possible. We value the added sensual exploration and awareness, the oneness, the spiritual augmentation, and the liberating sense of freedom. I like to experience the body’s natural instincts, the way it steps and climbs in so many ways, and across the seemingly infinite myriad of nature’s make up.
Several years ago, we began hiking the deserts and forests of Arizona nude. There was a period of inhibition and fear. We walked with wraps in hand, shuffling for cover when someone approached. In stealth, fully listening, we smuggled our naked bodies through uncertain terrain. We got more comfortable as time brought more experience and through our dialog with similar-thinking people. Realistically, on the trail, one to four oddballs out of one hundred encounters may object. Personally, we have had more people inquire and then spontaneously join our nudity than give us dirty looks. We comport as ourselves and others act similarly.
We also, found a plethora of options and strategies to have an abundance of natural treasures all to our clothes-free selves. We started by hiking further. I bought a four-wheel-drive, and we were able to drive and camp away from people, and to then walk further into unencumbered natural states.
We became more enthusiastic with what we were experiencing, realizing health benefits both mental and physical. The more we hiked, the more the passion for being nude amongst nature captured us. We began to discover more of what was hidden in the wilds, and thirsted for it. We felt overwhelmingly blessed, standing naked in the middle of the astounding and awesome.
It is Memorial Day Monday, the end of the long festive getaway weekend. People are packing up, for their return to working lives. They are savoring the last walks, final drives, the moments before leaving their good time playgrounds. It is quieter, a calm is returning, passersby are much less frequent.
Memorial Day, I begin to think about my dad, the soldier, sadly, but proud and respectful.
By dinner’s end, we are feeling less impinged. The softer light permeates. Heat is turning progressively down to perfect warmth. Everything seems to mark the close of the holiday.
There is a sense of expanding freedom. We can relax easier in our nudity and stretch out of our hiding boundaries, safe to walk and wander.
There is in my guidebook, a reference to some ruins. They are somewhere on down the road that leads from our camping area, here where the creek empties out into the valley at the base of Arch Canyon. There is an old trail, a dotted line, probably another 4×4 route, leading up the stone surface. It is probably a good long hike on a less busy day, an ancient route, now marked by rubber skids and rubble.
There is “the old Perkin’s Ranch” a landmark. There is the symbol mark for ruins. As best as I can cipher, it is at the top of what is referred to as a nipple. I suspect it may be at the peak of an attention grabbing hill that I have spent time looking at, even curiously searching its nature with binoculars for details. It looks like a short walk. I’d like to see if I got it right.
The Free Range Naturist 