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.
Bodies are like temples. They are most sacred. They are as sacred as a church, or any man made object. The following are my many thoughts on the matter. By the end, if you put them together, all or part, they say temple. Each paragraph might stand alone with bullets, but I chose to just let it flow
I’d say that it is a birthright to be naked because it is as using a temple, which is at one with nature, in mind and spirit.
It is important to love and respect the body. It deserves to be treated as the miracle that it is. It is our vehicle to explore incarnation, to live life. It is a gift.
No matter what, no body is nobody.
This flesh and blood is an object of great beauty and wonder. It is so very complex, what else could it be but a genuine miracle? Pieces of it are numbered in the billions, interacting, functioning together and ready for most situations. It all is just incomprehensible when one realizes how amazing it all is.
I’d say, most would, that this entire world is a gift. As so, it is spiritual. The body is born out of this. We try to explain and understand the intricate miraculous nature of the body, but always, we are still far behind in understanding its wisdom. Being in my body is a spiritual act in a magnificent temple. The Taj Mahal, Charts Cathedral, the Sistine Chapel can’t ever compare to the amazing place in which each of us dwells.
There’s an initial shock to sitting down into the water with the contrast of the sun baked rock.
The body lays back, taking in the creek water and pressing up onto the warm smooth granite surface. This baked rock is under part of the body, but some of it is submerged in the cool stream.
A small whoosh makes itself noticed, as cool water and wet body meet and make their peace. They work together until comfort arrives.
Laying in the rise of a rock is a contrast. The sun’s above, but cool water is below and around. It laps at my waist. There’s a splash, just a tiny drop really and it’s cool. It tickles my belly and my chest. They are just other bodily spots coming alive in surprise, a pleasant surprise.
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.
A part of my naturism is the act of being nude and natural in a natural environment. How might the consciousness of a person who lived in more primordial surroundings full time, take form? We have natural senses, more than our civilized living allows us. Nudity greatly helps to bring that out, allowing the exploration of the less encumbered life.
When I’m nude, a better sense of my surroundings is had. I see with my skin. I’m in the moment more. This is meditative. These are the skills of a hunter/gatherer, an observer. There is less mental clutter to get through in a more silenced wood or desert, instead of the alarm from traffic, sirens, and loud people with their distractions. It is no wonder that consciousness is fragmented. It’s like shuffling through a house buried in unknown clutter.
I’m out there not as just a nude, but a naturalist as well. I want to know what the beings of the natural world know and how they know it. I want to see wildlife, observe, smell, follow their lives by what they leave as clues in the greater puzzle. If I can see through their eyes, some of their awareness, as opportunity arises; there can be change in my own perception of the whole.
As a Toad Might
There are also those often reported experiences of animals showing less of it, or being without fear of the nude human. Be it smell, the look, the vibe, the way that nakedness moves, or what; animals often act more comfortable around a nude human. Perhaps, it appears a different species than the clothed one, who murders and takes so much.
(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.
The Free Range Naturist 