Sunday, March 31, 2019

The Question is Always the Same

I like being a nudist. Actually, I'm even proud of it.

I like the attention I occasionally get when I wear one of my many Nudestock t-shirts. Someone will look at it with their head cocked, and ask, "Wait--what's that say?...-Nudestock?!" immediately followed by a "realization washing over their faces. I look at it like it's sort of a form of bravery. Most people I talk to would never think about spending their day wearing nothing but some sort of foot protection or a hat of some kind, let along advertise it. Their responses are numerous, but most of them fall in the same general camp, and ask the same question:

"Why would you want to see [insert colorful adjective here] people naked?"

Their question might have any number of descriptors in the blank, like old, fat, saggy, or whatever, but the statement or question is almost always the same from the uninformed textile majority. It's both funny and sad at the same time. Honestly, do people really think that's the only reason someone would possibly go to a nudist park? To see people? I'd be lying if I said I didn't look--I do, but just like I would do with clothed people. To those who think being a lookie-loo is the reason to visit a nudist part or event I say, "The chances of you seeing amazing works of human art in the form of model-quality women or finely-chiseled, muscular men with abs of steel are very slim. The people at our local nudist park and others are just plain ol' ordinary people with plain ol' ordinary bodies."

Being naked is the perfect scenario! Relax and enjoy yourself because you're with regular people that enjoy regular things... just wearing no clothing!

Back to The Question: My response is always the same when someone asks me:
"I don't go to see naked--I go to be naked."
When I'm with no clothes I am in my element. I'm aware of my nakedness, but in a good way. I can't help but notice the breezes, the warmth of the sun, or the cool air on a cloudy day. Even a quick dare of dunking in a cold stream or doing snow angels in the buff--those types of sensory input make me feel more alive and connected with the world around me. When I'm bare I want to be outdoors. I want to be active. I want to experience everything I've already experienced or are used to, but in a whole new way. Ask a nudist and they'll tell you--things are more fun when they're done naked!




Sunday, March 24, 2019

Mirrors, Mirrors, Everywhere...

...Seek them out and use them if you dare!

Everybody loves selfies, right? They're a lot of fun but they can be so boring! Instead of the usual "here I am" shot, how about throwing a little extra twist into them to make them a little bit more fun?

The first one is me and Brenda trying our creativity in the kitchen one day. While it's easy getting a plain old reflection in something, it depends a lot on what that "something" is. Try the back of a spoon sometime if you think they're all easy! The hardest part with any of the creative mirror shots is not allowing your phone to be the star while it's in front of you, taking your picture.

The next two were taken out in my shop. Pick any day in between spring and fall and there's a good chance I'm out there just wearing flip-flops, and because it's heated, sometimes even in winter!  It's my favorite way to putter. Brenda wanders out and joins me from time to time when she's in-between duties.

Being nakey in the shop makes for a fun work environment, but you have to exercise caution!


Friday, March 22, 2019

Fortuitous Funny

Here's a small series from Zits, one of my favorite comics. It's kind of unusual to find a running series (though a short one) when it comes to addressing nudity in the comics. It seems like topical humor usually ends up in the type of comic that resides in a single pane.

When something as profound as roaming the house naked turns traumatic, it's good to have the support of your best friend, even if he does appear unannounced and therefore becomes a contributor...








Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Naturist or Nudist? Who Cares!

I am the kind of person that will almost always shy away from confrontation. I hate arguments. Theoretically, if I encountered one group of naked people that started shouting, "I'm a nudist!" and started waving their nudist signs, and another group stood together exclaiming, "I'm a naturist!" and waving their signs I would just sigh and look the other way. No big deal to me... naked is naked.

Dictionary.com has two definitions for naturist, the second of which is "nudist." Does that mean that naturism is a higher form of being naked than nudism?

    Naturist:
  • A person who appreciates the beauty and benefits of nature.
  • A nudist.
    Nudism:
  • The practice of going nude, especially in places that allow sexually mixed groups, in the belief that such practice benefits health.

Based on those descriptions, one would conclude that:
  • Naturists are nudists with less flexibility
  • Nudists are like naturists, but may be more receptive to fun

So why choose? As far as I'm concerned, if you're naked and you're happy about it, you're on the right track!

   

Monday, March 18, 2019

More Fun With Yours Truly

I haven't posted anything of my own in a while. Brenda suggested I put up this picture of me leaning against the doorway, stating that it's one of her favorites. I don't remember shit about the picture other than being stopped on my way into the bathroom by my phone when she snapped me.

Below is another of the "speed videos" that I love. Actually, I believe it's the only one I have other than the one I already posted so I guess it's time I make some more. They are pretty fun to watch aren't they! I don't remember if the settings are the same as the one I posted already, but I think I was using one shot per half second as my increment setting. I used an app called OSnap! Pro that runs on either the phone or the iPad. It's a good app, but I think they could make the interface easier to use. At least the results are great. It doesn't matter much now though, because I think the feature is built-in to the phones and ipads now.



Sunday, March 17, 2019

Vintage Fun

Through all my digging and web surfing in search of content I've come across some pretty interesting items. There's enough variety out there that you can just about pick a topic and add the word "nude" to it, and the results you get back will be pretty varied. Some of them are just plain fun!

This picture for example. I was torn--what caught my eye first? The nude lady laughing while she sips her coffee in an elegant manner? The nude man mowing the lawn? The fact that he's looking backward at something? You decide. I just love the shot:



Then there's this one. First of all, the ladies are obviously nudists. I mean, look how comfortable they are! Notice that cool bonnet the one on the left is wearing! Look at those cool-looking state-of-the-art wash machines! I just love it.




This next one is just plain ol' horsing around fun. I suppose they were tasked with outfitting the local restrooms with paper at whatever nudist facility they are visiting. Whatever the case, it's a fun shot. No surprise really, because everyone knows how much fun being naked is! Well, except non-nudists...




Thursday, March 14, 2019

Bringing Nudism to Marriage

When I was married to my second wife, my nude life was thrown a bit of a curve ball. I was very into being naked as often as possible while I was living at my apartment which I enjoyed thoroughly. When we first got together she was interested and intrigued with my being a nudist. Maybe it was the newness of it that she found entertaining. Anyway, she did try it herself from time to time. She enjoyed it several times when she visited my place, likely because it was a haven away from her home where she still had a adult teenage son living at home. She even visited Nudestock with me one year, disrobing in steps like many newbies do. After an hour or so she was completely nude, and I remember her exclaiming, "Yeah, I could do this every year." Well, that notion was short-lived. As the marriage wore on, the nudity on her part began to shrivel, finally coming to a stop. She even started wearing a swimsuit in the hot tub again.

After we were married I was welcomed into the house she already owned, but I never really felt at home there. My moving in had too many "we'll make some room for you" situations, creating an atmosphere of being a room renter. I was never really given free reign to do anything on my own. The house had a great fenced back yard, and her property butted up against an open area that was home to giant towers holding electric power lines . I saw lots of possibilities for sun there, but as a man that loves his privacy and freedom, I had issues from time to time with the proximity of other family members. Two of her sons and their families lived a few houses up the street, and her daughter and her husband lived almost directly across from us. When I wanted to "catch some rays" in the back yard I had to be wary of who was there, whether her teenage son was up or not (he worked odd hours), and that sort of thing. One time I remember lying out there sunning for an hour or so, and I had just finished and gone inside to put shorts back on. When I went back out to the yard, imagine my surprise when one of her sons from up the street came walking into the back yard from the power lines area with his little boy. WTF? What if they had arrived only 5 minutes earlier? I totally applaud someone having a tight-knit, loving family, but they need to understand that when mom remarries, an additional person lives there now. That means a little respect for privacy and and knocking before opening the door and coming into the house automatically. That includes back yards. She had been a single mom for a good 15 years or so, and her family struggled with my "intrusion" if you will. Several close calls like that prompted me to create this sign to hang on the driveway gate:

In retrospect, the marriage was doomed from the start for religious reasons, but that's another story I won't get into here. I would like to say we had a lot of great times and experiences. After all, people don't get married without something special being there, right? After five years I decided we were on a road to nowhere and said I wanted out. Yes, I was the bad guy, but I felt it had to be done.

I ended up finding a decent little two bedroom duplex for cheap. It was near enough to work that I didn't need to use a freeway at all. It was an older place with single pane windows, but it had a garage, and with my Harley and all my stuff I needed that. I was fortunate that it had a back yard was actually fairly well secluded. Even so, I still had to exercise caution depending on where I was. In addition to the attached garage that separated the two units, I also had a storage shed with lights and outlets out back. That housed my radial arm saw and some other things, so it was a workshop of sorts. During the summer months I would do all my work out there naked, disrobing as soon as I got out there. It was a little tedious having to put my shorts back on every time I went outside the shed, but I lived with it. When the surrounding underbrush was in full swing in spring and summer I would occasionally venture out into the back yard without getting dressed, but I only did that when I felt like I was up for a naughty challenge.



Tuesday, March 12, 2019

My Love of Vintage

I love old things. I have always felt a kinship to old things--even before I was old. Old things are more visually interesting, made with more quality, and are simpler. I'm always on the lookout for old nudist magazines, but the trick is not to pay exorbitant prices that dealers want. I keep an eye out on eBay from time to time, and will buy when I like what I see.

I just got a 3-pack of oldies this week, two of which are old nudist magazines from 1946. The other is an "art" book from 1930, filled with pictures from the renowned Edwin Bower Hesser. That one went in my display cabinet to spend time with my antique cameras and the like. Here's a shot from the eBay ad over on the upper right:

Here are the two magazines I just bought, followed by the others I currently own. It's not many, but they all have interesting stuff in them!




Friday, March 8, 2019

Taylor Camp: A Slice of Time

My previous marriage gave me ties to the beautiful island of Kauai during its 5-year run. Her parents lived there where her dad--being Hawaiian--was able to buy property in a native-only town. Visitors to the island routinely drove past their town on the way to sights like the Kilauea lighthouse, or still farther up the highway to the beautiful inlet town of Hanalei. Not far past that the road dead-ended at a popular beach spot. I was able to visit Kauai a few times, and I had been up that highway at least twice every time I had visited. I knew it pretty well.

Imagine my surprise when I found out that a the end of the highway used to be home to a group of people on property owned by one Howard Taylor. You may have heard of his sister, Elizabeth. Apparently the actress' brother donated it out of frustration with the local government. The property turned into a haven for freedom-seekers, hippies, and other earth-children of the era. If I had only known--I might have poked around there when I visiting!

Anyway, this is what gave it away for me recently. I saw this map and said, "Hey, I know that place! I've actually been in the Blue Room!

I have to admit, this whole story had me seduced in many ways. I totally love the island of Kauai, and I also felt a certain admiration for the hippies back then. I was at the tail end of the Woodstock generation. I wanted to be loose and free, but I was still a tad young, plus I was raised with a level of discipline that made me too chickenshit to leave and wander the world without a support network. I found that support when I ended up joining the Air Force for 6 years. Talk about polar opposites!

There are a lot of articles on the web about Taylor Camp, but I love the abundance of stellar black and white shots in this one:

Paradise Lost: The Hippie Refugee Camp

and here's a link to the site that produced the film:

The Edge of Paradise

Taylor Camp stood for eight years, being finally knocked down and burned by the local government in 1977. If you ever visit the north side of Kauai be sure to visit the area. When you do, let your mind wander to a point in the past when, for a select few, life was simple and clothing was optional.

Wednesday, March 6, 2019

Fortuitous Funny

I can't be expected to only post funny shit on Fridays, right? I also can't expect to post a funny on every Friday can I? There just aren't that many funnies about nudists, nudism, and nakedness that fit my style of humor. For that reason I've decided that I will name those sorts of posts as I have named this one: Fortuitous Funny. Enjoy.


This is how it all begins... What can we do to change it? Baby steps!

Monday, March 4, 2019

Wandering Naked in the Forest

One July several years ago my wife received an invite to stay a couple weeks with one of her long-time friends. Their family had recently moved over to eastern side of Washington, about 6 hours away. She had kids that my daughter liked to play with too, so the invite was for the both of them. I took this as an solo opportunity. Two weeks!? Nakey time!

I didn't know where to go, nor did I really have any idea exactly what I wanted to do. I was just restless and the nudist side of me was rearing its head. I grabbed a few things, threw them into the car, and headed toward the mountains. I drove up and down a few forestry service roads, checking for the right amount of guaranteed solitude. When I saw a private road with a big yellow gate belonging to a logging company (click here to go directly to the live location on Google maps), I decided that looked promising. After all, the gate was locked, who was going to bother me? There was lots of room to park and not worry about my car being in anyone's way. After parking and stashing my wallet in the trunk, I got out and locked up, walking around the gate.

No, it's not me
I was a little nervous about my being there, mainly because I was going be traipsing around naked in the woods on someone else's property! I continued, looking behind me as I went checking to see when I was out of sight of the highway. I was hoping for find a trail or path to follow instead of just walking down the dirt road and possibly being discovered. I was just a little ways up the road when I saw a trail and turned off to the left. That was my cue to disrobe. All I was wearing was elastic-top shorts and boat shoes, so I there wasn't much to it. I rolled them tightly into a roll with my car keys still tucked snugly inside a front pocket for safety. At this point I had already swatted away a couple of cobwebs that had draped across my face, so I decided a walking stick was in order. When I came across some dead branches below a tree I found one that was just right for a walking stick, so I peeled all the loose bark off of it. I developed an up-and-down sweeping rhythm with my stick, swiping at cobwebs that threatened to wrap themselves around my face.

After a while of walking and ducking around everything on the overgrown trail I came out into an open meadow in full sun. I stopped and admired the profusion of colors from the green and gold grasses to the white, purple, and yellow wildflowers. White butterflies darted around, playing tag in the warm breeze. I couldn't imagine a more perfect day. It was probably 85 degrees, the wind was blowing nicely, and I was naked! Hearing the wind blow through the cottonwood trees and the occasional bird chirping was looking more and more like heaven all the time. I craned my ears and could just hear a river somewhere in the distance.

As I wandered, the occasional strong breezes would blow through the trees, turning their leaves different shades as they were blown upward. I stopped and stood with my eyes closed, feeling the breeze tickling the hairs all over my body. Just when it would get quiet another sudden strong gust of wind would blow over me, again making trees rustle loudly. I drank it all in. There was an open area covered with hard-packed, light green moss--almost like a natural carpet. At one point I tripped over a tough, small vine on the ground, and when I bent to investigate the cause I found the whole area dotted with wild strawberries! I carefully plucked one from its vine and popped it into my mouth. Mmm... so sweet, but so tiny. I decided to be more careful with my stepping, those little vines were like little wires that would trip you if you're not careful. They were also a little stickery.

I'm kind of a "Nervous Nellie" sometimes, and this was no exception. What if something happened to me while I was out here? What if someone spots me? Will the logging company care that I'm here? I wonder if there are bears around here?

I started towards the tall cottonwood trees that were rustling so loudly. Though this part of the state is thick with evergreen trees, they don't make nearly as much wind noise as the cottonwoods do. The sound of rushing water became a bit louder as I went, and the width of the trail became a little tighter. I batted more cobwebs away. The early afternoon sun was getting warmer, and I got closer to the cottonwood trees, the sound of the rushing water grew slightly louder. Moving carefully to avoid getting scratches, I wound my way through the bushes and trees, ducking under branches, stepping through small openings, and other minor obstacles. Some areas I walked through were soft and sandy like a beach, and I kicked my shoes off and wiggled my bare toes around in it, smiling to myself. Nearby were areas that were packed sand with light green moss growing around embedded rocks, probably created from prior water levels, that almost gave it a cobblestone effect. I still wasn't quite sure how to get to the river, but because I could hear it plainly I just kept working towards the sound. It seemed like anywhere I looked I found dense growth in blocking me.

Finally, I could see the rushing water through the trees! I made my way along the undergrowth until I was able to find a suitable spot that’s thin enough to squeeze through without too much trouble. When I did I found myself at the edge of a wide, rocky beach with the fast moving river about 30 feet away. On the far side was a steep bank with thick forest above it, and I could see a road up there running along the river. That made me a little apprehensive. I had gotten very used to walking through the forest and underbrush with no clothes on, but this was different--I would be out in the open! I studied the area for a while, but never saw any traffic or sign of anyone. Then it occurred to me it was likely part of the same road that led to the gate I parked at, which meant it was likely forestry or logging use only. I relaxed a little and stepped out onto the wide open sun-blasted expanse of river rocks.

Most of the rocks were basketball sized or smaller, and the sheer volume of them suggested that the river was usually much wider than it was during these dry summer months. I decided I would like to get my feet wet, but the murky, fast-moving river didn't look too inviting. The silt suspended in the water had turned it a gray color, but if you scooped some up in your hands it looked nice and clear. I kicked off my shoes and placed them nearby, placing my shorts on top of them. I have always loved walking on smooth river rocks barefoot, and today was no exception. Being barefoot enhanced the nakedness; making it total and somehow more natural. I put my feet into the icy snow-melt river, carefully holding myself steady with my hands. Wow, that's cold! I jumped back out of the water and decided to go up the river and explore. Nobody was likely to bother my shoes and shorts if I left them there, so off I went. Let me tell you, I felt like naughty kid again out there in the open, dancing naked from rock to rock in the hot, summer sun. It was like I was the last human on earth. As I worked my way upstream the rocky beach got narrower and narrower, finally ending altogether at a bend in the river. The undergrowth and riverbank were both too severe there, so I had no choice but to turn and head back. My feet were used to the rocks now at least.

On the way back a small pool of water caught my interest near the riverbank. It looked like tributary had been formed when the river started shrinking in the warmer months, finally drying up enough that it created a pond isolated from the rest of the river. It looked brownish and barely moving--completely unremarkable on any other day. This was no ordinary day though--this was the summer day I was naked, exploring in the forest! I dipped a foot into the dark water to test the temperature. It was so warm! I just had to go in. I waded into the deepest part. It felt like a hot spring! I wasn't quite prepared to have it feel that interesting. I slowly sat down--uncaring what the water looked like. After all, there was a river with clean (but very cold!) water just a few feet away! It wasn't very clear and it had a little mud on the bottom, and it appeared to vary from inches deep in spots to almost 3 feet deep in the deepest part. As I sat down as the water came up to my chest. I sat there for about 10 minutes or so, my mind shuffling crazily with all the sensory input that I had sprung on it in just a couple of hours. When I got out I went to the cold, fast moving river and waded out quickly to a deeper spot near the edge and splashed myself clean. Whew, that was cold! I climbed carefully back out of the rushing water as quickly as I could, and stood shivering. My skin was alive from everything I had subjected it to, and now I was enjoying the feeling all the little hairs on my body were making as they popped free from being pasted to my skin as I dried. I made my way back to where I started, retrieved my shorts, and put my shoes back on.

I was now back where I first found the river. There was no real path or safe passage along the water from there, so I had to go back inland to work my way downriver. At least there was no chance of getting lost with the sound of the river nearby. The undergrowth was pretty thick in this area, and the walking stick definitely came in handy. I was separated from the river by a row of tall cottonwood trees on my left, and I was in an open, sandy area, punctuated with round river rocks and Scotch broom. The strong, warm wind continued to expose the light green undersides of the cottonwood trees as their leaves were blown upward. To their right, the thick evergreens went as far as the eye could see. Being naked is a most pleasant way to hike!

The open area I was walking in was gradually tapering off as I got closer to the bridge, and a short distance farther I was again reunited with the river. As I neared the bridge, the ground started sloping sharply upward, leading up to the road surface above. While I could have gone along the water's edge instead of up and over, the vegetation was too dark and overgrown. I also feared bug bites, which I had been able to avoid so far. I'd rather go up or down a nice, clear hillside than through unknown, thick underbrush on level ground. The loose gravel path was about 30 feet up to the road surface, but I made it without incident. Naked wandering can be a delicate thing sometimes as some of us know. Going down the other side was a little trickier, but again, I made it without any trouble. Down the other side of the elevated roadway was a small camping area that looked interesting. It was level and fairly open, even for its small size, and was mostly overgrown grass punctuated with patches of moss. There were remnants of past campfires, but it looked like it had been a long time since anyone had last camped at this spot. Maybe next time.

For now I was tired, thirsty, and more than happy about the day as it had transpired, as it had been a very special day. I walked down the road toward my car, completely comfortable with my nakedness. When I got to the point where my car was just around a final curve and the state highway was, I stopped. That was as far as I could safely go in my skin. I considered listening for traffic and walking all the way to my parked car naked, but I chickened out. I unrolled my shorts to put them back on, and having been wrapped into a tight ball and carried in my sweaty hands for a few hours, they were wrinkled beyond belief. When I shook them out and put them on they felt completely alien to me. After a day of wandering around the forest wearing nothing but boat shoes, I didn't like the sudden change in attire. I reluctantly approached my car and opened the door. The inside of the car was stifling hot from sitting there all afternoon, so I rolled the windows down to let the hot air out of the car. After relaxing and enjoying a beer from the cooler in my trunk, I pulled out onto the highway and headed home.

I vowed to return, and return I did--at least 3 more times over the years past. After that first time I started carrying a shaving bag. My shorts, my keys, and a couple beers fit in it, and there was no chance of losing anything if it was zipped into the bag securely. Only one other time did anyone go with me out to that area, and she was the one that took this picture I shared in my first blog post: