Posts Tagged With: free hiking

An Evening Stroll

2020-05-02

The weather has been 10 and 15 degrees hotter than usual, near record breaking. More ‘new normal?” It’s a dry mid to high nineties, with a couple of afternoons over 100. This leaves us with plummeting temperatures in the seventies and eighties at night. This adds to many peoples Covid 19 stir-crazy misery, those “too hot to get outside” days.

We have been coping by exploiting earlier mornings when it is cool, a summertime strategy. Our best weapon is simply to remain naked. Our bodies have the natural ability to adjust to changing weather and the extremes of dry heat. Today, we put weeks of dirty laundry on the line, two shirts and a pair of short pants, for me. DF had her work clothing and we had soiled a few towels.

Isolation has kept us from socializing, from dancing, shopping, from all of the activities that require being dressed. Even Zoom requires no pants. I have been out for groceries, to roam the trails and camp, to sweat and look at property. Only one activity has required covering with more than a hat, which protects from a red nose. Oh yea, some form of shoes, flip flops, or toe shoes. Yesterday, I was stunned to realize that I had been dressed maybe six, or eight hours in the whole of the last month. A legal kilt wrap, was handy for a few moments here and there. Another new normal, for however long it lasts. Clothing has become abnormal, unusual, almost alien. I walk around forgetting that I am barefoot all over in the warm weather and comfortable evenings.

Being immersed in natural garb is a great release.

Into the Night:

Today, we have been rearranging DF’s back porch and patio area for hours.

We are sitting outside in the back yard having a nice dinner. A friend, a handyman who had been working on the roof next door to take advantage of the late afternoon cool, pops his head over the fence. Surprised by two nudes, (he knows us only as clothed) he voices his surprise, “Oh, I see that I should have knocked first.”

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Up Hot Springs Canyon

2020-04-13

We’re east of Tucson in the San Pedro Valley. We’re exploring and looking for good hikes away from the crowds created by bored Covid 19 refuges, the captives in their own homes out on the trails to blow off steam. We have stumbled onto a fine walk in the dry riverbed and an ancient and fun geological structure:

There is still some afternoon left, as we climb into the 4runner in pursuit of a place to simply pitch a tent.

I know that the trail that we intend to hike tomorrow is up the airport road. Narrow “Hot Springs Canyon” empties out into the broad flood plain and generally dries up before it reaches the San Pedro River. It crosses the road that goes to Cascabel.

We once approached the same canyon from the upstream side. There, the Nature Conservancy has bought up Muleshoe Ranch to protect against destructive incursions into the lush canyon’s riparian strip. Here is that trip:

https://thefreerangenaturist.org/2017/04/14/muleshoe-ranch/

I had studied the satellite images and learned that the road ends in a parking lot. Further investigation has garnered another blessing and a kindness. Continue reading

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San Pedro: Journey to a Sacred Space

2020-04-12

Weather has been changing by the day, and so has gone our vacation schedule. We have had our time dwindled to three days and one of those is still iffy. Our location changed from four days at the Eden Hot Springs, which was killed by Covid19. Our “Plan B” was look at some mountain watershed, mid to lower elevations. This has changed several times. Now we are heading for a tour with several hikes associated with  the San Pedro River Valley. Such as it sometimes goes, for spoiled warm weather naked people.

The first day is to explore the riparian riverbed of the San Pedro near Cascabel, Arizona. I have been scouring satellite photos of the area and anything on the internet about access into the river. There is supposedly a four and a half mile stretch that has flowing water, but I’m not yet sure just where that is.

We begin with a drive out on the sleepy two lane road to Cascabel.

Spring flowers are popping up everywhere.

Some places are covered in color.

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Unnamed Valley

2020-05-11

Bug Springs Trail in the Catalina Mountains of Arizona looked to have some good potential for nude hiking. It has a corridor of lush mountain vegetation and my investigation using google maps showed it to be a pretty significant stretch. It is less well traveled, perhaps because it is either uphill all the way, or at the other end, a trailhead rises steep, before slowly dropping over a couple of miles.

It looks best to use two cars, one at each end. Looking further on the HikeArizona website, I got the elevation and grade. I also saw that it has a great deal of popularity as a bike trail on internet, which could be a downside.

The elevation will make it a good cooler temperature today. We’ll find out.

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2020 Ziploite #11: Last HAhrrah!

Feb. 2020

 

The airline cancelled our flight. The choice was on the beach in Zipolite, or cooped up in a hotel in Mexico City.

We’ve got an extra day in Zipolite! We weren’t ready yet, so says the cosmos. The lesson to learn is about surrender to what is and trusting in the divine hand of grace doing whatever it will. Well, through rearranging a slew of reservations on a phone/internet system that wouldn’t cooperate in my Spanish and dashing the class that DF was to take that Sunday, it was figured out that accepting was the best tactic. I’ve been stranded in much worse places than this paradise.

The extra time, well spent, is sure to work out correctly.

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2020 Zipolite: Natures Dance

Feb. 2020

 

Nature’s Dance:

Great angular blocks, layers and deposits form jagged cliff sides. Beyond, a tunnel has taken several millennia of carving with the pressures of a funnel to create. Waves of white foam wash through at high tide, torrential and potent, but they are slow, very slow to make a mark.

Among the dark wet rocks are chutes and whirlpools. Great waves are constantly changing their intensity, their track and their tack.

Submerged rocks can be clearly seen, exposed by a tidal current and then again, under masses of foam and crystal assure blue.

We wander down the beach in among the daily ritual of sunset, the rolling crests of foam form their pipe-like tunnels. Soon, they will be streaking across the deep shadows, making their own glow in the din with the moonlight and stars. Tonight, the lights of the Hotel Nude will provide a yellow hue, creating golden waves in black waters reflecting diamonds in dark skies.

Still endlessly hitting those cliffs and outcroppings, those chutes of water pound and thunder. Sometimes, they fan out, spraying higher than the spouts of great whales. A salty cloud of mist forms and we see it float to the sandy beach.

Where a rock sits exposed, launched by the power of a wave, grand fountains shoot high in remarkable swirls and twists.

They scatter and then return to the soft more quiet brine, now in their time, they are stretched out below.

We stand in the back splash from a resting power that has been spent on an assault at the sandy shore. Again and again, we hear thunder and power as nature plays and dances.

Drumming His Prayer

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A Sunday Drive

2019-09-29

 

Back in the day, there was a national pastime called the Sunday Drive. The big three would have billboards advertising a well-dressed family, just out of church, cruising in one of their tail-finned shinny chromed sedans. Gas was cheap, life was looking up.

It’s Sunday and we’re going on a picnic cruise down through Baja Arizona along the west side of the Huachuca Mountains. Our ride is a tight little Honda Civic, not a historic floating boat from yesteryear.

We’re just down the road and it’s about 11am. I’ve been sick and felt pretty bad the night before. There is no telling what this will bring to me today, but…I’m stir crazy and determined.

We grab some eats from Trader Joe’s. With DF at the wheel, I get undressed, as we head out of town. I tell DF of my notion of the obvious, “Everything, even sick, can feel just a bit better when the clothing comes off.” Naked and making myself at home distracts from my insides and brings my attention to my outsides.

We take the winding scenic drive down through to Sonoita. On the map it is just a small black spot at a crossroads of lines. It is charming all along here. Its rolling hills are hosting vineyards and white board fences more and more, as the years go by. It feels kind of like a drive through gentrified California countryside.

The grasses are green and the trees small. Every so often, a stream crosses the road and there is usually a taller shade tree at its side.

Down further, California turns to Kansas. Straight dirt roads go to the horizon.

Today, the sunflowers are as high as the speed limit signs. If we were in Kansas, they would say that the snow this winter will be as high as the sunflowers, but this is Arizona. It doesn’t work like that here.

One inviting hacienda on its acreage gives over to the next. Continue reading

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2020 Zipolite: A hike in Cometa Preserve

2020-02-25

 

We’re in Zipolite Oaxaca, Mexico

Dawn…it’s colored peach again.

We meet our neighbor from the next room next door. He has offered us a tour of what he describes as a particularly special place, to him. He guarantees that we will thank him profusely, once we make our visit.

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2020 Zipolite #7 : A Romantic Dinner

2020-02-25

 

We’re in Zipolite, Oaxaca, Mexico.

DF and I spend the early afternoon in our quarters, sleeping and listening to the pound of the waves on the beach.  After siesta, we take care of our bills and slip on some light clothing, she a thin dress and me a sarong. We plan to have a snack and walk nude on the beach for sunset.

We stop at a familiar restaurant. It is still too early to open. We’ll come back later. A block up the street there is another place that we know. We have a torta filled with baked veggies together.

We snap a few pictures along the way and then take the first alley to the beach, stopping at the end to disrobe. It is liberation to drop all and wander out onto the public beach. We pass a few kindred souls. Dogs play, frisbees are passed and soccer balls bounce. Everyone has an activity.

The ocean sneaks up on us a couple of times and recedes, leaving the bubbling tiny holes of crabs. We take opportunities to capture photos of the sunset and our joy.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. We’ll know when we get there. As far as we can, I guess.”

The sentiment is returned. We stroll off free ranging naked hand in hand.

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2020 Zipolite #2: Look Ma, No Hands!

There I was no sh…

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