The pool of water feels perfect for me, as I swim about, lighted by a full moon in a clear sky. The bottom of the pond is dark with algae, no longer reflecting a turquoise sky. My skin reflects the moon’s glow, that lunar white, in contrast. My nude body is sharply exposed in the dark water more than in daylight. There are the sound of crickets and a distant trickle of water flowing into the pond. I hear nothing else, just the calm.
Only small ripples from my body can be found anywhere in the waters and I put an end to that. Glassy, the moon and sky reflect in the water. There is a sharp bright glowing white polka dot with glistening Jupiter at its side.
At first, I think that I have found one of those large bubbles of warmer water that are discovered out in the pool, but this one is the source. As I near the hot mineral springs tub, about ten feet out, there is a path of warmth. I am at the end of the tail.
A week ago Saturday, we got back from a month long cross country road trip to DF’s mother’s 100th birthday gathering in Georgia. We traveled through New Mexico, the Panhandle area and Missouri getting there, stopping off at some fun spots to hike walk and visit. On the way back, we took a couple of weeks traveling down into the south. We crossed Texas and the Big Bend area. We’ve got stories to tell about hikes, canuding, sailing, beaches, resorts, retreats and more adventure as naturists to last some months to come.
I have several personal projects that must be accomplished the next 6 weeks or so, which have to do with money. Then, there are many pages of notes from the trip to preserve and a couple of thousand pictures that I’m sorting out. With being very busy and also that aforementioned catching up to do, I’ll still do my best to get some quality posts out each week. Some may be smaller projects.
Carnuding II
Several years ago, I posted an article about “carnuding.” It is time for an update. I’d like to invite you to revisit the first article here:
There were a few useful insights in the comments section of that article
“Carnuding” simply means driving, or riding in a car while nude. Since that article, DF and I have logged in about 13,000 miles nude and incident free in just two cross country road trips. We have also driven nude to and from every one of the short adventures in the stories given here. We often don’t get dressed driving through town, unless getting dressed, or undressed, at either end is a hassle. It is just practical, or sometimes liberating. It has been all incident free…just sayin’.
To be accurate, we carry a cover-up just in case of an emergency, or spontaneous change in plans. A cover is easily placed in a lap to avoid breaking laws. Most often just a wad of cloth across the lap will do. DF has to cover breast in this state, Arizona.
DF has logged less carnude mileage than me, because the seat belt eventually gets uncomfortable when nude. I’ve seen wadded up clothing and pillows under her straps. Also, because of the additional requirement of covering her breast, just a top covering may be used.
All in all, few look and few of those would care. Someone might enjoy a giggle. If some weirdo were to get upset, which hasn’t happened, it is a great deal of trouble for them to take action.
Generally, people are busy driving, seeing the sights, or looking for a McDonalds
During the long drives, I am very grateful to not be bunched up, perspiring in a hot pair of pants. I feel comfortable. When we slow down and the windows are open…we’ll isn’t that part of why people buy convertible cars… to feel the air?
At stops, I have taken to wearing a light Velcro linked kilt. It slips on and off easily. Often, I just wear a kilt as I sit down and undo it, casting it to the side to remain nude. I’m simply and casually at ready to pull it closed with no effort. DF with a light sundress, can place it over herself and be legally covered and slip it on quickly at public stops and get out of the car.
I have gotten a few snickers and double looks from people in small towns when wearing a kilt, but have enjoyed many many more compliments and accepting inquiries. Once at a truck stop in Oklahoma and once standing in line in a store in Fort Davis, Texas during our trip, did I hear an insulting verbal remark, by someone whose opinions I neither respect, or care anything about. It is my comfortable world, even if the fashion sense might be seen in a Walmart YouTube video. I figure that a light Hawaii shirt with the kilt, probably won’t interest the girls, but there are other options that some will be attracted to.
In addition to comfort, Carnudling can make a mundane trip feel more adventurous. If you are out for a sense of freedom, or a getaway, being nude in the car will add to that. It adds a whole new dimension when an intention to stay nude is added.
Being bare as much as you dare on a trip, outside the car, will also raise the bar. Your photography will certainly not get boring. Just be careful, think ahead, and have a backup plan.
For years, I’ve been experimenting with barefoot living. I’ve pondered what the Native Americans in this region did with their thousands of years of experience. How did our naked ancestors work it out? How is it possible in various terrains, to be chasing down prey on foot? How does a body naturally adapt?
It is healthier for posture, locomotion, knees, etc., but what about all of those abrasive, sharp, or biting pieces along the path one takes. I could get by in a forest, generally, especially if my feet were conditioned to be used bare foot, but what about the spiny hot desert?
Traveling in the desert barefoot is just pressing your luck. It is not if, but when, catastrophe happens. I have had short discomfort on one end of the scale. Prickers and sharp rocks happen. The other end of the scale was being laid up for six weeks from a deep toxic cholla thorn embedded in just the correct nerve.
An elderly friend with no feeling in his feet, was under home healthcare because of the first degree burns that he unwittingly sustained one afternoon. He was in his garden in his backyard, on concrete and rocks, while barefoot. He just didn’t realize that his flesh was literally broiling.
So, how did the ancient locals do it?
The Native Americans around here all have had important cultural traditions in long distance running for hunting, sport and travel.
I visited the University of Arizona a couple of days ago. I found the evidence. While most Native cultures around here were pretty much nude, there were shoes to protect feet, at least while running hundreds of miles across wilderness desert.
Living in a grouping of huts, gathering shrubbery carefully, squatting for seating, all may be done naked all over, but there are times when that just isn’t practical.
I was pleased to find this exhibit. It confirmed many questions that I have been carrying about feet. This is a far cry from the rubber tire treads huarache shoes of the Tarahumara of today.
The practicality of the weather and a distinct lack of cloth to be found has brought the general conclusion that clothing wasn’t a daily occurrence. Skins and cotton were available. Evolutionary adapted dark pigment helped protect the locals. My experience over decades has shown me that wearing clothing is ridiculous most of the year.
The first eight chapters of the barefoot living series can be found in the table of contents. The publishing date is there, just look it up from the archives listing on the side of the main page.
I am on the forum of FreeRangeNaturism.com often, if you would like to converse.
We have been visiting/hiking the ‘ol walking trails in the Tortolita Mountains, northwest of Tucson, where I used to live. Now, we are going to investigate the strawbale home that I built and the destruction of habitat where my stealth trail and Havarock sat. Both near the spot that Javalina kept as a safe home. I know that a road and building pads have been introduced. I don’t know how extensive.
The series in this website“My Private Place for Naturism” is about my experiences in this place.
Most of you may realize that about two years ago, I moved back into Tucson proper from my desert home in the Tortolita Mountains. Today, DF and I went back for a visit and to hike into the mountains. We’re hoping that it will feel fresh for us.
It is mid- February, so the desert is just coming out of winter. However, thanks to climate change, today the higher 70F’s have hit with an absolutely cloudless sky. It is a perfect day in Tortoltila.
About a month has passed since our last reported visit to Redington Pass during this exceptional Monsoon. There has been change.
Our monsoons last typically, but no way near consistently, for six weeks. This has been the wettest of monsoons in recorded history. We’re reporting the results of the seasonal rains.
(please, be sure to check the stories of Redington earlier in this month’s posts)
Today, there is much less water than just a few days before .
The thing about Redington Pass is that there is little norm here. The water doesn’t always flow. There are often times of drought, when only pools can be found, and then those times pools turn to puddles, when life clings on, waiting for the next rain.
We were expecting more water today, because last night there was a nasty storm on the east side of our valley out by Barb’s house. She told us that it was like a “hurricane” for hours. That’s just over the hill from where we stand.
We saw on the way here, that two familiar mesquite trees are uprooted. Sand is all over the roads where water was flooding. A concrete block wall was knocked over, creating a pond in someone’s enclosed backyard. Water rushed in, but couldn’t rush out, flooding like the entire backyard was a swimming pool.
Apparently, there was no storm here at the pass. There is no evidence of flooding.
We’re at Redington Pass again. The Monsoon is extra wet and we can’t resist this place. Today, we decide to take the high road to avoid the crowds and make better time toward the upper part of the flow.
The vegetation has grown thick here. So, having come nose to nose with rattlesnakes along here before, extra caution is taken. I wouldn’t want to disturb anyone’s daily beauty rest.
We descend the last tall steps into the bedrock bottom of the canyon.
There appears to be even more water since the rains last night. This place changes daily, when the rains come.
Off to the side of the main channel, a feeder stream is flowing with fresh rainwater. I try the little waterfall and sip a drink!
There is an obscure spot in New Mexico. It is right near Faywood Hot Springs. You might see the sign and ask, “What could be a City of Rocks?”
The exit is off of the little two lane road that heads east from the hot springs. Over a hill there is yet another hill. In the generally empty terrain, this hill sports a large mound with a stand of generally monolithic granite rocks.
We are at Faywood Hot Springs in New Mexico. We arrived the previous afternoon, after a long drive down from Colorado. There is a strong chance of monsoon, so we may head back home, after visiting a couple of nude opportunities in the local wide open spaces.
This is a beautiful place to wake up to. We are surrounded by tall fountains of pampas grass under mesquite tree shade. There is that green glow from morning light, orange sunshine is beaming through the shadows. It is calm, just the sound of a bird and a peacock. DF is asleep, cuddling in my arms.
DF suggests that we should check the weather to see if it changed. I grab the phone for the National Weather Service. The forecast for this evening doesn’t look good. We do have some time to enjoy ourselves.
We walk in the comfortable early morning air, up the hill to the Henge. We of course, drop our coverings, just as soon as we see that we are alone. The world seems to embrace us more completely.
The Free Range Naturist 