Temple Mountain

2025-07-01

Utah

We’re headed to the place least likely to rain in the entire American southwest, today. We’ve been in the mountains for long enough for desert rats. Coming out of 10,000 feet above sea level, we seem to be spending hours heading downhill. Actually, cumulatively, we are.

There is a turnoff from the Interstate highway, that’s all, just an overpass which quickly turns into a dirt road into hundreds of miles of generally uninhabited lands.

I get out to adjust the wheel lockers for the steadiness of 4×4 high. The truck drifts less on the hardened earth and gravel when set with three gripping wheels.

It is a bit unnerving, as I stand scanning the horizon. I feel that sense of being alone in a barren wilderness. We will be on our own. There will be no signs of humanity for many miles, but for this graded dirt conveyance. The sun’s warmth greets my body all over, as I stand staring out. That is freedom, when the sense of a journey into the sparse many miles brings me closer to faith. During each moment I’ll abandon myself to the next. The process will progress.

I take a deeper breath, climb in the cab, shift into first gear and let off of the clutch. The road winds through the vast desert, land formations are entertaining, but they are our only companions.

We are taking care not to miss our turnoff, when it finally arrives. There is a lone black SUV at the intersection. A family is going the other way. I check the gas gauge. We’re good.

Further downhill, we can see a pass through a pair of cliffs. Approaching them, we see a drop into a piece of Forest Service tourism. The dirt parking lot is large enough to accommodate a fleet of vehicles; its boundaries are defined by a rustic rail fence. We must be getting back closer to civilization and from here to the other route option, the road will be more traveled.

 

Temple Mountain, sacred space, huge pictures of maybe Gods, or spirits are depicted on the walls. A kiosk suggests the history and origins. Nobody is truly sure what the message is, but at one time, it must have been very important.

We wander unintimidated in our nude state. The sun is intense, but that is the only bare concern that we have here. Standing up and some leg movement, finally, after a long drive on a slippery dirt road, feels very good. I’m aware in my body, my body aware of every subtle shift in the air and the lack of shade.

Where the wheel and peddle take me has been my focus. I’m free from the occupation.

The truly large petroglyphs do impress us.

The figures seem a touch cartoonish, but the seriousness is not lost.

DF begins to walk out the distance into the open parking lot in only shoes to get a closer look. I decide to pull the truck up closer. Although the walk would do me good, I don’t really know how much activity there is here. We didn’t come here on the usual tourist route. This could just be a lull in traffic. It is probably expedient to not be the length of a football field, in full view of a stadium, from our red steel clothing, which is parked near the entrance. Nobody shows up, anyway,

We take photos of these and the colorful surroundings.

We take a walk to where the remains of an old town may be seen, but there isn’t much to see. The ancient is holding up better than the more recent human activity.

We can’t stay very long here. We need to get to the Goblin State Park, to get a good campsite and to scout out how we shall proceed to make free nude use of it. The sunshine will come to an end.

As I mentioned, The National Weather Service tells us that today, Goblin State Park is the least likely place to rain in the entire west. We are avoiding cold wet life.

Several miles down the road, we finally find the entrance to the park. We pay our fees and look through the three-dimensional map sprawled out in the foyer to get our bearings, then ask questions, hours of access, etc.  

It is a short drive up to get to a great camping spot.

END

ANNOUNCEMENT:

I had intended to present the complete story of Goblin State Park before we left for our journey back into the Canyon Lands of southern Utah. The last couple of months have been very busy and computer issues abound. This post will contain lots of pictures, but there just isn’t time to set it up on a tired and broken system, nor time to set up a wholly new system, then jump through the process and then beat the crowds of Memorial Day. I’ll have to delay the posts and others, until we return in a month, or so, and leave you with a tease. Goblin is one of the most surreal fun spots on Earth. You’ll love the images.

We should also have an abundant collection of further adventures to share.

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

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