Here’s parts I and II:
Another Day Brings….
The winds increase the next day, which is not as the forecast foretold. Our little tent had been luffing like a sail throughout the night. The flexible arched poles would flex and bend, so much that it caused the walls to cower and nudge my thick goose down camping quilt.
We remain bundled to peak out of the tent. We remain bundled to eat breakfast. We wander around bundled in layers of clothing to mediate. We wonder, “What’s with all of the clothes?”
Diner and an Epic 3D Movie in Private:
It’s still cold here at the hot springs! We have a diner at camp and then walk to the kitchen for some innards warming tea. Then we stop in the warmer common room to visit with friends.
There is persistent cold and the only way to reasonably be as nature intended is to get back into the warm mineral spring waters. The pools here have different temperatures to choose from. Tonight, we decide to again use the aquatic living room by the pool with its nearing full moon. The sky has been blown clear and moon shadows are everywhere, blue illumination helps us find our way without any kind of a torch.
Tags: Arizona, body positive, body positivity, free range naturism, hiking, Hot Springs, naked adventures, Naked in nature, naturism, naturist, Nude, nude photography, nudism, nudist, the free range naturist
I’m going to put this trip into four parts and publish them with a more rapid timing than weekly. They lead up to a new discovery and the subsequent nude hike through a riparian wilderness.
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Carnuding with a Challenging Surprise:
After a quick trip to Sprouts Grocery and topping off the tank, we take off for the hot mineral springs. It is a bit chilly out there, but warm, nude in the shelter of the SUV.
Today, we exit town through the Davis Monthan Aircraft Graveyard. I hadn’t been this way in a while to see our tax dollars at work. It is several square miles of storage of government aircraft, mothballed and much of it antiquated. It can be seen across the valley as a white lake.
We continue through the vast Southwestern Arizona homelands on the interstate. Texas Canyon opens out into the Wilcox area and the salt flats. The Chiricahua Mountains grow as we get closer.
The contrast of white snow on the mountains as a backdrop to carpets of yellow flowers and blue bells is a fascinating juxtaposition.
I’ve been working to prepare my house to put on the market for months now. Long 12 and 13 hour days with lots of hard active work later, DF and I are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. After a particularly long day’s work until 2am, we were awake at 5:30 to greet the photographer.
This schedule has slowed our sense of celebration, but we have a wonderful clear day in the 70F’s to enjoy. We had an intention for a sweat that was to occur the night before and a hike. We can’t do it all. Our long hike to the county line becomes a short walk to Havarock.
We take a camera, a bottle of water, shoes and a couple towels rolled up to rest our heads. We are going to share that big flat boulder and this blessing of winter sun. The sweat will come later. At 11am we’re going to work on our winter tan.
Here is Part I:
We’re camping in the White Mountains.
I wander around in the morning light. Nearby, I find a lean-to shelter has been built by industrious campers. There are two very thick old logs lying around a few old fire pits near this.
Suddenly as if déjà vu, I realize a flood of memories. This is where I stood naked 21 years ago. I was in the camp of a couple of young guys and an art student from ASU in Tempe. She had taken my body paint sticks and created a swirly colorful psychedelic pattern across my back. These flowed out of the bands of a rainbow corresponding with chakras in the front. I was dubbed “Rainbow Man.”
I stand here remembering the conversations and reactions, as I was transformed by paint. Much begins to be more familiar, here. I can now confirm that the evergreen bush, that I saw yesterday, was where I had placed my tent.
She had been swiping paint on my body. I had approached them wearing boxer shorts with a Grateful Dead logo. Her squeamish compadre winced and gasped as I dropped them to give her full access to her art project. The coquettish young man looked as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.
As she neared my genitals, the obvious question needed to be addressed. I volunteered to slap paint on the delicate matter.
The rest of the day was spent in constant expressions of joy at the Rainbow Man. Some just had to hug me, some respectfully stating that they wished that they had the guts to do present themselves in just body paint. The primary colors were a more dramatic flower scene in a green hued world. I was covered by positive expressions and the loving tidings of 10.000 good souls.
We have breakfast and a casual start on a walk about. DF will see how things go. The broken toe may stop our excursion early. We’ll see.
We needed a quick getaway from it all. We wrapped things up Friday night to hit the road Saturday morning. The idea is a cruise and a campout in the cool mountains. We felt the need to do something for the Solstice World Naked Hiking Day, even a day late.
It has been four years that this two year project has been going strong. Happy Birthday TheFreeRangeNaturist.org.
We’re gonna keep goin’…naturally.
Thanks for joining us on our adventures, for following and all the thumbs up. We hope that you are becoming more and more liberated, too.
The site first published on the 14th of July, more or less. We hope that you all get to celebrate “International Nude Day” and/or “National Nude Day” and/or the culmination of “Nude Recreation Week” this Sunday!
Jbee and DF
P.S. A two part solstice hike story in the White Mountains is coming next week.
I just took off my robe. I noticed a change in posture.
Yesterday, I was walking around the Tucson Gem and Mineral Show in my wrangler denim jeans. I had my hands in my pant’s pockets, which is a slouch.
A tight outfit, makes a body move more stiff. It limits the range of motion. These become habits when the muscles are not being used, stretched, or being exercised. A waistband can tighten a belly, squeeze it over the top as a pot belly and constrict flow. It can affect a hernia, giving false support to muscles that need to carry their own duties.
Late June 2019
The cicada are busy. They are an odd bug with a short bulbous body and longer cellophane wings. The winter rains, or the seven year itch, have brought them on in force. I’m not sure why it is that they are so active. Perhaps I tune them out during their seasonal comings and try to forget the chatter of their wings, but I’m also seeing more of them.
Today I’ll sit on the porch and listen. It will be one-hundred-something Fahrenheit by afternoon. The sun is already warm this morning, as I step out the front door. I wince at the glare from the east. It’s kind of bright when seen through sleepy morning eyes that are used to being closed.
There is the warmth all down my right side as I face north and listen. The cicada chatter. Like crickets they tend to ebb and flow. When it dies down, there is a calm.
I turn to make my way to the shady porch around the corner. I proceed along the walkway with two empty chairs and a table with a collection of ancient pottery shards. The sun feels good, as if a god is giving me a pat on the back. As I cross, the sun’s blessing becomes a massage. I enjoy the touch, but there has been plenty of heat during the last couple of weeks. This morning, for now, I’d like some cool.
The porch has its couch facing west. It presents a view into the lush desert. I sit down in its charming cradle of fluff. I cross my legs Indian fashion, I sit up comfortably, the mind stays stilled, not yet out of sleep.
The cicadas persist, more ebb and flow, more chatter to calmness. Continue reading
Changes are happening, we’re saying good-bye, letting go and honoring our past:
Looking Up the Milagrosa Trail
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