We are coming out of the Great Plains. Viewing out across to the west and the first glimpses of the tall Colorado Rocky Mountains. The sky opens. It feels celestial. I feel like the westerner that I am, is coming home. Now, I want some undisturbed nature.
We both slept well. We’re waking to birds, treetop branch shadows, turkey gobbles. It’s a wonderful temperature, when we stand in the sun.
We drop off our bedclothes here and there. The cold of the night is disappearing steadily. I free my pants, then the down jacket. DF has a similar wardrobe distribution and breakfast comes.
As we sit quietly eating breakfast, still in shirts, cuddled by our folding chairs, yet another white p/u truck pulls up and stops where the road gets particularly nasty. This time, a family gets out and parades past, following the road. The father marches ahead like a tall commander in front of his troops. All are in matching camouflage outfits. A less statured mother is next, carrying rifle on her shoulder. A teenaged son brings up the back. He is nothing of the confidence of his father. He has a very shy gangly insecure walk to him. They disappear up the road.
We’re not going that way today. We’re exploring Ida Canyon. We have decided to delay our trip to Miller Canyon on the other side of these mountains. We didn’t expect this to be so wonderful. We had a long hike yesterday and figure that it is best to just relax and enjoy this place. It is best to take only one hike today and scrap the plan of one hike hurried here and then one into Miller Canyon. There is no hurry. We are free to enjoy this vast playground in leisure, nearly all to ourselves. Miller Canyon is more likely to be busy with Saturday walkers.
09-13-2020
We’re in Dewey Arizona visiting friends at their home. For the first part click on the link here: https://thefreerangenaturist.org/2020/12/13/visiting-around-dewey-prescott/
Monday: I wake up to big yellow flowers amongst the bushes just outside the tent’s mesh. Birds are splashing in their artificial bath.
Climbing out into the morning warmth, hummingbird’s tiny bodies are buzzing as they zip around us. Again, quite noticeably, that soft green grass is so wonderful on bare feet.
While we walk in the shadows, the golden morning light beams around the corner of the house. Radiant heat warms all over the body with its contrast, as we step into it. Muscles begin to loosen up. I stretch and greet it all, accepting my blessings.
There is little prep. We just grab a few things, a snack and bottles of water, a kilt that I don’t intend use. DF and I climb in the back seat onto towels and we go…somewhere. We have again, put ourselves into the hands of Ken and Amie.
Looking out the windows, we see ourselves traveling into the golden brown wheat-like hills. A mountain of rock is ahead of us. We drive through the surreal spectacle of the Granite Dells and turn off at Watson Lake, which is a park.
There are but a few people around, a jogger and a walker in the parking lot. We put on wraps and sundresses looking for a spot to take some quick scenic photos. Ken and Amie have been collecting nude photos in parks and monuments. It is an experience akin to the many web photos of proud bare buttocks attached to travelers, as they raise one finger in the air above an out stretched arm, in what appears to be a triumph. The monuments generally have higher traffic volume, but with covid-19, they are either closed, all or partly. There is an opportunity for the photographic challenge. Continue reading
We are started very late due to circumstances beyond our control. It is a beautiful day, maybe a tad hot, but being naked in an air-conditioned car eradicates such concerns.
We have driven the two hours down the Interstate highway to Wilcox, a small central hub of a town alone in a vast expanse between Tucson and New Mexico. It has thrived amongst some irrigated farmland in the valley between mountain ranges, the cattle ranchers and as a stop on the highway. Here, on the two lane highway to the south, it is open grass and rangeland, all dry from the extended drought.
We are heading for the Chiricahua National Monument, which is a collection of hoodoos much like Bryce in Utah. Not as colorful, not as prolific, but there are not over two million visitors each year. I have found what is described as the least populated trail and it all sounds fascinating as it leads to a natural bridge.
Trails Throughout
It is sunset time, the exciting time for the sky. We are sitting on the top of a mountain arena. It is flat at 10,000 feet. It is the highest spot, save a few surrounding hills. This dome has a vast field on it amongst a deep forest.
The Free Range Naturist 