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.
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.
“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.
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.
We are embarking on a three or four week, yet open-ended, tour of Southeastern Utah. It will be in many very remote areas, so, I can’t be promised internet connection and, so you may notice a missing week or two of posts. I’ll try to get at least one, or more posts in from some tiny library in a tiny town, but no guarantees. If you feel like it, I suggest reading, or rereading, some of the hundreds of past posts.
We will be back with a pile of photography in exotic places and hopefully several more interesting tales to tell with insights in the land of Edward Abbey’s “Desert Solitaire.” I’m sure to have a few quotes from him with illustrations and our own naked take on his literature’s perspectives.
“Open the garage door. Let’s go!”
Thank-you so much for tuning in and enjoying yourself for all of these almost “nine” years!
Jbee and DF
I am on the forum of FreeRangeNaturism.com often, if you would like to converse.
We’re back at camp after a fine naked hike up to a saddle on Ragged Top Mountain in the Ironwood Forest National Monument. The campsite is outside of the monuments boundaries at the end of a desert road.
As we return, Ken and Amie are about to leave, heading up to the gas station and general store, which is just a few miles away. When they get back, we will take the stroll around the hill that our rented campsite is set into. There are supposed to be petroglyphs facing south out there. This will be the afternoon’s quest.
When the time comes, seven of us take off down the little track where somehow bluebells thrive in the crushed gravel-like earth and nothing else.
We met Ken and Amie out near the entrance to the Ironwood Forest National Monument for a campout.
The planning had come a few weeks before, by them, for the day after April Fools. Coming down from the Prescott area, they had invited several naturists from many spots around Arizona. Not everyone could show up, but on Tuesday afternoon five of us were at ready and more would arrive Wednesday.
The weather gave us turquoise skies, the air in the high 70F’s and Wednesday would be even warmer. We had lucked into a warm few days in-between dastardly much colder and rainy stretches. This winter has been a series of unusually warmer streaks alternating with plenty of rainfall and chills.
These weather conditions generally will bring a strong seasonal blooming and The Ironwood Forest National Monument is one of the best showcases for that. If you catch it right, carpets of bright colors among the lush green desert trees are both fascinating and beautiful. The rugged red rocks and soil have produced a magical place. This is one of only two intact Ironwood ecosystems left on the planet. They are not only filled with Ironwood, but abundant saguaro and other succulents with the biodiverse ground cover.
After being greeted by our old friends and a new acquaintance, who knew us from this website, we get ourselves arranged for the night and catch up next to a set of warm gas burners between us. The sun drops behind Ragged Top Mountain, its jagged edges silhouetted along with the desert vegetation. It is framed as the sky colors slowly turn incredibly rich royal blues and then the cosmos appear in the dark skies.
We talk on before turning in. We watch that sky through the net of our tent in the quiet still night. We sleep deep and peaceful in the silence. A troupe of loud coyotes nearly comes through camp, waking me right before dawn.
In the morning, Ken, Dave and I head off to Ragged top, so I can orientate them to what I have in mind for hiking today. It is a comparatively richer desert in the monument. I stop at a familiar campsite. Soon, I find Dave standing with his arms out stretched breathing in the clear air, which is still affected by the rains that fell less than 48 hours before. He looks like he has found his element and expresses his delight to stand in a naked body in nature. At that moment, I know how he is a kindred spirit, with a true naturist’s understanding.
I’m game. There is also a jeep trail near there that we could try.
We walk the massive field, finding spring water is creating mushy grasslands in spots. Here after a drought, we’re surprised. We could understand the darker green grasses, but standing water coming up out of the earth is something else. It had been a wet and up here, a snowy winter.
The grove is as if we never left it.
I walk along the edge of the field south to where I had found tire tracks.
Someone has camped here, but not recently. The circle of tire marks is vague and overgrown.
The squirrel chatters away, high in a tree, the rhythmic tat-tat tat and squeaks above us.
I sit in a chair, now in the cooler shade of the clouds. Below me, a light breeze wriggles the baby aspens, barely two feet tall. They are children of the forest playing games, gathering their strength and prowess.
I sit back and look up at a shining silver break in the grey, as the sun casts similar light across the grasses through tree branches. It is warming me, radiant, caressing. It feels as though it burns skin for a few moments. Before this disappears, I’m reminded of the dramatic reaction my body has with the sun. There is an ancient synthesis from the beginnings with the sun. One might call this simply natural, but I know how deeply it brings me alive in the morning. It penetrates my eyes, as if a portal into my inner being. I become more alive and whole as my body receives.
This afternoon:
We put on shoes and take a water bottle and cameras. There is a slope into the deep forest away from camp and the great field. I know that if we get lost, we just keep walking downward to a Forest Service road. We will wander as far as our mood is fulfilled.
We just want to see what is there, in the neighborhood.
I used to take off walking in Tortolita out my front door, roaming, quietly immersing myself, my body bare. Sometimes my feet were also bare. My intention was to adjust the intensity of my experience. As they say, “when walking bare in a prickly desert, you’d better stay on your toes.”
Staying in the moment, using a full spectrum of the possible awarenesses, there being a necessity, is also extremely healthy. If I want to experience myself as a part of nature and of its natural influence on the body, my best is to be in this state. I want to come into these amplified senses and reactions of where this body evolved from.
To watch my body’s complexities of motion is fascinating to the point of becoming a prayer of gratitude in the wonder of it all. These bodies are amazing and to be mindful with them in each step, getting to know them, can be hours and hours of stunning entertainment. It is also integration and a path to a heightened consciousness, which I believe to be a more true state of our nature. My experience has told me that after the practice of these activities, and frequency, that these states can be brought back to my daily experience. I become a more balanced, whole and spiritual person. This was also explained to me as a path to enlightenment in India and also from what I know of many Buddhist practices. The body and life is experienced, but there is an observer, that which lacks attachment, just be here now.
Such emersions are also a great way to start a new day.
During our White Mountain retreat, we would find ourselves wandering off from camp, into the forest. DF liked to walk off in the mornings by herself. She would say hello to the familiar trees, stand in a field, arms extended, just feeling it all. Sometimes the sun would warm her exposure like a lizard’s daily air-bath. Often, I might catch a glance of her standing nude, moving to the stretch and rhythm of her chi gong moves.
The Free Range Naturist 