I’m continuing our series into Bears Ears National Monument in southeastern Utah. We’re looking for places to bivouac, set up camps near destinations and then get earlier starts on hikes.
We couldn’t leave our last camp soon enough because of gnats and the afternoon heat. The harsh part of Summer isn’t far off. The plan is to situate in higher elevations and the better weather, climbing to suit our lack of suits. We’ll need a place to stay to get an early start near a trailhead, which leads to a ruin that we intend to explore.
A camping spot is found near a very fun old wooden bridge.
The solid old conveyance is filled with character, there are trees for shade and a dry creeks ambiance, maybe cool air will flow down the wash as evening passes.
The spot should suit our needs, but now we need another spot in proximity to Bridges National Park, our hike for the morning. Fish and Owl sounds like a good spot. There is a Ranger Station nearby. Our information is sparse at this point and they will help.
I had some clearing out to do, when I found some old papers, printouts from the early internet. From David Icke E Magazine, I’d printed an article out on December 31st, 2000, a year after the millennia computer crash silliness, probably from a Web TV, or something. It was titled “Nudity” by Voltaire.
I had to investigate. Was this real? After a search of “nudity”, I found Voltaires’ Philosophical Dictionary, a treatise of his writings, but only under the title “nakedness.” The famous philosopher actually wrote this back in the 1700’s.
An Image of Voltaire’s Nude Statue
From: Voltaire’s Philosophical Dictionary
NAKEDNESS
Why should one lock up a man or a woman who walked stark naked in the street? and why is no one shocked by absolutely nude statues, by pictures of the Madonna and of Jesus that may be seen in some churches?
It is probably that the human species lived long without being clothed.
People unacquainted with clothing have been found in more than one island and in the American continent.
The most civilized hide the organs of generation with leaves, woven rushes, feathers.
Whence comes this form of modesty? is it the instinct for lighting desires by hiding what it gives pleasure to discover?
Is it really true that among slightly more civilized nations, such as the Jews and half-Jews, there have been entire sects who would not worship God save by stripping themselves of all their clothes? such were, it is said, the Adamites and the Abelians. They gathered quite naked to sing the praises of God: St. Epiphanius and St. Augustine say so. It is true that they were not contemporary, and that they were very far from these people’s country. But at all events this madness is possible: it is not even more extraordinary, more mad than a hundred other madnesses which have been round the world one after the other.
We have said elsewhere that to-day even the Mohammedans still have saints who are madmen, and who go naked like monkeys. It is very possible that some fanatics thought it was better to present themselves to the Deity in the state in which He formed them, than in the disguise invented by[Pg 223] man. It is possible that they showed everything out of piety. There are so few well-made persons of both sexes, that nakedness might have inspired chastity, or rather disgust, instead of increasing desire.
It is said particularly that the Abelians renounced marriage. If there were any fine lads and pretty lasses among them, they were at least comparable to St. Adhelme and to blessed Robert d’Arbrisselle, who slept with the prettiest persons, that their continence might triumph all the more.
But I avow that it would have been very comic to see a hundred Helens and Parises singing anthems, giving each other the kiss of peace, and making agapæ.
All of which shows that there is no singularity, no extravagance, no superstition which has not passed through the heads of mankind. Happy the day when these superstitions do not trouble society and make of it a scene of disorder, hatred and fury! It is better without doubt to pray God stark naked, than to stain His altars and the public places with human blood.
I am on the forum of FreeRangeNaturism.com often, if you would like to converse.
“You’ll get used to wearing clothes,” they say. Well yes, I’d probably get used to anything, but is constant clothing actually beneficial? Can it be harmful? Maybe clothing is something that should be done only in moderation? There are of course the superficial differences, but as a longer time nude will show, if one just takes note, the restrictions coming from clothing have far greater negative and even damaging effects.
Examples of Greater Deeper Effects:
Most obviously, just throwing off clothing reveals an immediate release, relief, or liberation, but I’m saying that the effect of clothing is deeper than that.
In constant clothing, health, psychological and spiritual benefits, all three, are lost in an artificial norm. There is a disassociation from our essence, the base, our very foundation. One needs to be in touch with one’s grounded essence to function better. As examples, a short meditation, or a deep breath during the day, being and in the moment are known health aides. Try taking a Ben Franklin air bath. It is certain, clothing disassociates us.
One may ask me, “Why are you so obsessed with being naked?” My usual response is “Ask yourself why you are clothed. Could that be an obsession?” Nude is the default position. Clothing is an additive. This justifies my lifestyle, but why is it such an important issue to me?
After spending several days acceptably nude, it is most common to notice that putting on clothing, just to be socially acceptable, is physically confining, bunched up, hot, evidently unnatural and often, actually uncomfortable.
Unless I get overwhelmed by cold, I don’t need anything to supplement my natural bodily ability for homeostasis. The body, the mind, the whole system adjusts as a complete system. It is quite complex, an ancient natural gift adapted to adept. It is honed and amazing. The freer that it is to do its job, the better it works.
I am my body and also, there is more. Something essential is lost in clothing. The joy of nudity is lost, but something more than clothing is taken away. In my skin, I’m in touch with the world around me, all senses are more aware and I’m more integrated. This aligns with and supports a more natural place, or sense of being. It opens the pathways to other senses in a unified natural activity of awareness and body.
Other senses are felt about the body, such as, I have a greater sense of well-being. I have a deeper sense of being a part of something quite amazing, even oneness. If one just tries free range naturism and is simply being aware; there is a generally obvious observation, which can expand into more in time.
This is another short post, something that I wrote a while back. There simply isn’t enough time these couple of weeks to sit down, take a complete day and finish the complex continuation, or the finale of either of the two story directions that we are flowing toward. Please, give time time as it unfolds.
I am on the forum of FreeRangeNaturism.com often, if you would like to converse.
Enriching my being and senses is, to me, like sitting on a bench watching a glorious wondrous sunset. I think that I have a right to the gift. But there is a persistent social imposition that is like having a blind man come by, swish his cane and tell me that that sunset doesn’t exist, or that it is unimportant, or irrelevant. To be denied the wonderment of this body going about its day, exposed to all the sensation that a day can give is cheating me. The imposition of not living naked diminishes my experience of my precious day on Earth.
We have a right to our natural senses. To stand outside and breathe fresh air and its scents. To sense with the entire body is elemental. To walk freely nude, is like a breath of fresh air and I would say that they are both simply a human Right.
This is a short post, something that I wrote a while back about true justice. There simply isn’t enough time these couple of weeks to sit down and finish the complex continuation, or the finale of either of the two story directions that we are flowing toward.
I am on the forum of FreeRangeNaturism.com often, if you would like to converse.
We’re here in Bears Ears National Monument in southeastern Utah. We have backtracked to Monarch, where we think the Monarch Canyon trail is, after getting misdirected and lost.
An old peaceful looking, Santa appearance of a guy is walking down the two track road with a tall Gandalf-like walking stick. Perhaps Santa is on vacation. He smiles and affirms that we are in the correct spot.
At the trailhead, the off duty wizard has a fun little trailer with a generator humming.
We stop for lunch. While we munch, the New Mexican couple show up. We’re glad that they are not still wandering lost. They comment on the two oddly placed pieces of wood that showed us the way out. They too are grateful. (See the previous post: “LOST Looking for Monarch”)
We slip down the steep sandy slope which walls the riparian area where called the Comb Wash flows.
We let them go ahead, so we can follow at a distance nude. We will take our time and make more distance from them, as we go along and better savor the trail.
We are looking for one of “the Combs” canyons in Southeastern Utah. This one leads up into the grand Monarch Ruins.
We are not sure today. We have notes and a rough drawn map with some mileage written on it. I have done the math to reverse that mileage, as we came from the other direction. The Buttler Wash Road is just a graded dirt route, not even a good place to take a motorhome, or low sedan. There are several side unmarked two track jeep trails branching off of it. They generally head toward the Comb Ridge, where a significant landmark, or at least a canyon can be seen in the distance. Today, we’re not so sure, but we’ll try the most likely candidate, by my reckoning.
When we arrive at the end of this dirt road, there is no apparent trailhead, but as we are eating a lunch snack, a couple with New Mexico plates pulls up in another slot in the overgrown desert bushes. We slip on some coverings and casually stroll over to ask them if their information shows this as the way to Monarch. They give the affirmative. We are encouraged, but in the back of my mind, I can’t see that they have any resources better than ours. They are going off of an internet website on a cell phone. None the less, we decide to tag along, safe in numbers.
They think that a trail down a steep slippery sandy slope is the route. I’ve seen these slots in the sand made by cattle and have doubts, yet we will allow ourselves to defer to them. They seem to know where they are.
I get more doubts at the bottom of this 20 ft. drop-off. The trail is like a tunnel through the thickets.
When I start to have to bend over, it gets suspiciously like a cattle trail, just at about a cows back’s height. Still, this is better than any route that we have found, so far.
After the day’s wandering, we ponder about the mysteriously weird behavior of those two intrusive guys. They had parked down the road at the base of the turnoff to our camp, but we aren’t sure what drew them to park there. Perhaps they left clues.
The day still feels young, even though it is winding down. We can see that the sun is nearer to setting, as we look through the tree’s canopy. We decide to take a stroll in this idyllic weather. It will be a short walk before eating. We won’t need anything, just shoes to glide over the loose sticks and stones…and a camera.
The two track road rambles through the taller trees. It gently waves up and down to the dictates of the contours of the little ravines that head toward the creek bottom at the center of the canyon.
It is not long before we are at the intersection, and then soon there is a turn off heading downhill, or downstream toward a wood stack rail fence. It looks rustic and authentic. Long pieces of mesquite have been stacked in between two posts of similar material. It has been a corral. It is still together. The tire tracks of the two guy’s SUV lie in a patch of dust.
We begin to explore, to see if the ranching still functions. It is capable, but not being used today. We mosey across the tall grass fields to see what is there. From here, we can see in the distance from the base of this pair of canyons confluence. For miles, the easy slope of the bajada fans out before us.
We are up a favorite canyon in the Huachuca Mountains. We just explored an old homestead in ruins, speculating about life here a long time ago. Now, we’ll learn a little more about those days.
Just a bit further, there is a water source in the creek bed.
The Free Range Naturist 