Posts Tagged With: Bears Ears National Monument

Bluff and Grit: Bears Ears VII

Another Big Mouth Pt1

2024-05-20

After finding our way out of the Valley of the Gods, we’re turning back onto the asphalt road. Before heading out into some hiking along the Comb Ridge, we need to visit another unknown, Bluff Utah. We’re hoping for gas and ice. It didn’t look like much on the satellite image. Again, we just don’t know what to expect in this region. We pass and nearly miss a turnoff onto a dirt road. Strikingly, this is the Lower Butler Wash Road, which is the main conveyance north along the east side of The Comb Ridge. It looks desolate, empty and the map shows that it goes for dozens of miles.

After Bluff, the plan is to double back and drive up this surprise, looking for hikes and solitude, in random canyons and whatever else that we encounter. My information tells of well-known canyons, cliff dwellings and petroglyphs in the area. I’m hoping to find the canyons less traveled, where I’m told surprising rich experiences abound. The plan is not a trek through such a bland looking desert!

As we slowdown from highway speed as per the signage, Bluff begins to unfold. Still, it doesn’t look like much. The outfitter store/pizza restaurant is regrettably closed, but there is a Bears Ears Visitor Center next door. Generally, my experience with visitor centers is to be simply channeled toward crowded tourist places to glean my money, a tool of manipulation of the local Chamber of Commerce. This information center looks small and the signage shows the support of other entities, preservation people. It is called “Bears Ears Education Center.” It somehow gives me the impression that it isn’t just a tourist trap. We decide to check that out on our way back. I still have a very muddy knowledge of how to find the solitude and freely nude experience that I’m looking for. I need more than books and a few tips from friends. I need local’s knowledge and experience.

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Sat On A Rock This Morning: Bears Ears VI

2024-05-19

This morning and the previous, have tended to train us to wake up with the sun, then emerge into excitement. Eventually, the wonder, sometimes surreal, that surrounds us, begins to teach.

This morning, while DF sits with a journal, I venture out for my latrine building duties. I find only a thin layer of red sand, just inches and the bedrock. I try a small indentation of a wash, hoping to find thicker soil that has built up around the bushes that are surviving there.  

As I stated before, we always play our game of stepping to not disturb the delicate floor and flora. There are signs to caution humans to not trample the precious soil and biology, but here there is evidence of cattle grazing. In the distance, I can see them standing in the Monument. The cattle’s weight and hooves have destroyed way more than the simple paths that we may make. The effect of their prints can be seen. I follow a trail, an indentation paved with loose sand, made by them. They rip out plants that we walk around and admire. This plant life takes many years to root and then grow. The flora do this and flower with only a couple of opportunities each year. Even the lichen wait.

Today, the vegetation is almost all new, displaying a different green and blooming. All of this is rare.

What I know as a Mormon tea plant is different here, because of its stature and structures. Here, it also commonly grows in mass, as a dominate adaptation, unlike at home. A green ground-cover stretches out to the Gods and Goddesses. The iconic Monument Valley can still be seen on the horizon.

The soil is sand on rock. Here it has become particularly fluffy from when it rained and froze. We sink to our ankles where we walk off of the trails. It seems a shame to walk on it. It’s like freshly fallen snow, so beautiful, but you know that your tracks will change it forever. I’m feeling a bit guilty, as the black biology is protective and it will not be back until the moister meets it again, when conditions are just right.

This place is one of those places where morning brings contemplation.

Here, naked on a fallen boulder’s wide surface, I sit. At similar times, the world may seem to pass by. In this valley, it is evident that it is us that pass by this world.

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Valley of the Gods II: Bears Ears V

2024-05-19

After arriving in the Valley of the Gods and pursuing a hike up a lonely lovely canyon, we begin to look for a place to stay the night. Camping is allowed where the desert has already been disturbed. We pull off on a couple of jeep trails searching for privacy and some shade to sit under, but nothing feels just right. The search continues.

I know of a small road from my maps and we find an exposed place at the base of Rooster Butte. The wind is howling, it pushes my body for a while. Then, it leaves me alone in the calm. We make camp taking the time to decide how to lay out the tent and the truck to counteract the high winds. The truck makes some windbreak, but it takes two of us and a good sized collection of rocks to get the job done in the reoccurring wind, anyway.

We are on a exposed open knoll, overlooking many miles of iconic rock structures. There are a dozen tiny tents gathered around a campsite, maybe a mile away. Later, a lone man camping and sleeping in his SUV takes a similar spot on another far distant hill. Our SUV, as planned, protects us from his line of sight.

We can be seen and see for miles, but the nearest neighbors are too far to see our lack of clothes. We’re hiding in plain sight. Although we’re up on a hill, our camp can be seen from the rough road below, but there are a very few on it.  When we arrived, we had to wait behind the truck for a van load of loud kids to pass. It has been peaceful since.

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Valley of the Gods: Bears Ears IV

2024-05-19

Last night, we went to the public campground up on Muley Point. We wanted to see what the view was on the other side of the hill, why the other visitors were going that way and if we may be missing something. I wrapped a kilt around me and DF pulled over her sundress as we were sure to be confronted by convention. We encountered friendly people, families and a pair of pals playing catch in the road with a football. Bike riders sat looking too exhausted to set up any camp.

The view was magnificent, of course, generally the same from a different angle.

There were pets. A cattle dog comes running out at me with her objections, as some dogs do. Then she stops to wag her tail and accept a scratch behind the ears. I figure that we’re good, as with all other dog encounters throughout my life. As soon as I stand upright she viciously bites my ankle with full force. Not a nip, but full attack.

No apparent breaks, I’m with pain and bloody as the owner arrives. “She hasn’t been herself since she got in a fight a couple of days ago.”

I’m thinking, “If I had been a small child, or if I had had a pistol with me,” as I limp off. Eventually, the deep wound doesn’t heal until a month passes.

This peninsula in a sea of sky is not our style at all. This is nothing about nature other than an impressive view. We are happy to return to our camp of solitude.

The Next Morning:

The next morning, we are up for breakfast and to break camp. We’re going to the Valley of the Gods. By 11am, once again, we’re in the one lane curves and cliff’s drop-offs of the Moki Dugway. This time however we’re heading downhill and there’s more traffic today. I’m relieved to reach the green plain at the bottom.

Very soon after reaching the base, there’s a turnoff into “The Valley of the Gods,” which has just a simple blue sign pointing to a dirt road. Soon, we arrive at a simple forest service kiosk. It pleads, “Please don’t make any new campsites and stay on the roads. No fires.” Every campsite has a fire pit and ashes. It presents a frequently heavily dipped road. The sign reads, “impassible when wet.”

Obviously, this place, like the Ironwood National Monument has an inadequate budget, or no real protections. It is a victim of the resentments and tug of war in our two party political system.  It is strained by one side doing its best to preserve our people’s heritage and another side representing wealthy groups that would gut and exploit it all.

After a series of mammoth platform pedestals, the behemoths rise up. I can see “Valley of the Gods” in rock forms, near and far!

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Nude Rec Week and International Skinny Dip Day

I’ve been going through a bad reaction to some medications after some dentistry, for a week. Headache, unclear, I just haven’t felt like much. Any time I felt a bit better, has been getting ready to host a memorial ceremony/celebration of life at my place, ie. “The Sweat.” Someone very dear and of the community has past on.

When I get back on track, I’ll finish the story of the Valley of the Gods and post it in one or two parts. For now, we hope that you’ll enjoy your “Nude Recreation Week” and “International Skinny Dip Day.”

This is DF just before a windy chill of an early morning in the Valley of the Gods warms up. She is before an iconic vista of massive grand monoliths and she reminds us to stop and enjoy the small wonders.

It may be just a barefoot step in squishy mud. It might be getting out of the shower and not getting dressed, taking a walk, holding someones hand. There are so many wonderful little things to appreciate.

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.

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Muley Point: A hike: Bears Ears III

2024-05-18

This is the follow-up to the Bears Ears II story:

After a particular morning, we have decided to take a walk out the jeep trail road that we are camped next to. It appears that all of those expensive camping rigs with their 4×4 capabilities have come on the graded road to the public campground just over the hill. We can see one rig and its occupant sitting on a folding chair in the distance, on top of the ridge. The newcomers and those leaving have all been missing the route that we have taken. We are all to ourselves. The road runs along this cliff side drop off. I’m not too sure how far. Today, I do know that it bends and heads north into the vast flat fields of the Bears Ears National Monument.

The temperature feels perfect; clothing would just be a waste.  Bodies confined now would be a retardant to the promised freedom that we anticipate. We certainly feel that freedom, as we prepare to go down a path to an even greater unbridled expanse and its experiences. We shall see what we shall see.

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Muley Point: Morning: Bears Ears II

2024-05-18

A golden sun is beaming into a few clouds. Dawn is breaking. 

We’re off to experience a memorable point of time, a moment in our lives. Just down the sandstone slope is another level of shelf spanning out before our camp, a huge patio.

Wrapped in a thick old Colman sleeping bag, we have had a cozy and warm night. My hoody trapped the body heat from escaping, the wind and fresh air giving that special cool quality to each breath as it cruised across naked faces.

Now, the chilly wind is nearly howling at us. We don jackets over the thermal and wind breaking clothing that we fell asleep in.

We casually stroll off excited for the anticipated morning light and grand vista. Yet at this point, we couldn’t possibly imagine the epic quality of that coming vista.

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Just Getting Started: Bears Ears I

2024-05-16

Getting together a system for camping for a month is no light chore. When packing up, every purpose must be accounted for and each item’s accessibility considered during daily routines. The SUV, a second gen Toyota 4runner, had to be divided into sections. The huge cooler, which is insulated to keep us away from civilization’s grocery stores for a week at a time, takes over the back seat. The other goods, most of the food that we would need for a month is crammed in front of it, leaving just enough room for my bag and its minimalist wardrobe. We expect to be in nature, or driving nude. A light kilt for me and DF a sundress, or two, is enough to stay legal when others are about. We have packed some warmer layers and a set of street clothes for shopping, etc.

I put two large grey bins in the back, one for the portable kitchen and one for tools, axes, camping equipment, etc. Around this, I placed two five gallon water bottles, plus two smaller gallons and four liters in our hiking bottles. I then had to utilize every square inch of space, packing the tent and sleeping gear. It works like a Chinese puzzle, shifting this to get at that. The tailgate is a work/cook bench and we did bring a portable table. We had spent weeks in advance organizing and planning this trip to be better embedded in the outback. The duration is to be open ended, but probably lasting around a month.

The first morning, packing is getting frustrating. It all just didn’t fit! Something HAD to give.

I had been studying the southeastern portion of Utah for months and still couldn’t know what to actually expect and had few solid goals in mind. You can only get so much education from books and online when the goal is to be left alone freely nude. We had yet to secure the solitude, or the magical the secrets. We had some friend’s experiences helping us. One couple told us anecdotes of how they had often found lesser canyons, just as amazing. He had explained, “I walked around a corner and there was a dinosaur in the cliff wall!” Books tell about popular places, but often, crowded places. I had no idea how many other visitors to expect in each area. I had received the advice that around Moab there would be many more and heard the term “crawling with people” for the entire month’s visit. Even Edward Abbey’s Arches National Park now requires reservations. We will have to let things unfold and adjust our schedule as each intrigue comes up.

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As It Is

“Even after years of intimate contact and search this quality of strangeness in the desert remains undiminished. Transparent and intangible as sunlight, yet everywhere present, it lures a man on and on, from the red walled canyons to the smoke-blue ranges beyond, in a futile but fascinating quest for the great, unimaginable treasure that the desert seems to promise. Once caught by this golden lure you become a prospector for life, condemned, doomed, exalted. One begins to understand why Everett Ruess kept going deeper and deeper into the canyon country, until one day he lost the thread of the labyrinth; why the old time prospectors, when they did find the common sort of gold, gambled, drank and whored it away quickly as possible and returned to the burnt hills and the search. The search for what? They could not have said; neither can I; and would have muttered something about gold, silver, copper…anything as a pretext. And how could they hope to find this treasure which has no name and has never been seen? Hard to say…and yet, when they found it, they could not fail to recognize it. Ask Everett Ruess.”

Quote: Edward Abbey, “Desert Solitaire: A Season in the Wilderness: A Celebration of the Beauty of Living in a Harsh and Hostile Land. Page 272.

Having not set a definitive destination as we had embarked on our journey, I now stop, smile and exclaim, “Well, here we are!”

Quote: Jbee. From somewhere in the wilds of southeastern Utah

Have a wonderful World Naked Hiking Day!…

…on this Thursday, June 24th, 2024

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.

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Well Lived

It may be that we have one life to live, one chance, just one go at it. It would seems to me, foolish to squander such a gift. Now, what to do with this? How do I know that I am making the most of it? This life is to experience life and I may ask, “Am I?”

It may be a challenge, it may, or not, be exquisite, or perfect, but there are those times that pop up and one just knows that a life is being well lived.

We’ve been in Bears Ears National Monument for the past month. Nearly all of that time without internet, or phone service. Now, we’re back. Much to follow.

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