Author Topic: Trip reports  (Read 9831 times)

stuart

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Trip reports
« on: September 13, 2013, 06:14:59 PM »
Our trip reports, of Munros, Alps and other locations are all on our main site, but use this board to post your own stories of individual free range naturism experiences.

jbeegoode

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #1 on: September 20, 2013, 09:17:35 AM »
I have been posting nude free range adventures in the Southwestern United States in the Secret Naturist Society site for years now. To double post them would be much work. If you would want to read and see them, The link secretnaturistsocety.org would bring you to an introduction and then a very safe registration. Click SN community at the top of the page and then click secret naturism.

Amongst this are many posts by jbeegoode. Most will have a trip report and pictures. The idea is to expand naturism to any and all places. These stories are how my girlfriend and I have usurped convention and expanded our range, from home through locations and back in many fun places, nude.
Let’s see if I can post some pictures and not mess this up. Nope a complet etechnological failure!

Anyway, some of the places are:
Hiking in Sedona:

Mt. Lemon near Tucson:
The Catalina Mountains (what Mt. Lemon sits on:
The Tortolita mountains northwest of Tucson
In deserts in Arizona near Tonapah hot springs:
In the California desert, around De Anza nudist resort.:
The White Mountains:
Along the border with Mexico:
The Chiricahua Mountains in Southeastern Arizona:
Gardening on my desert property:
Searching for petrogyphs and pictographs and other ancient artifacts:
Rincon Mountains and Redington pass:
And more.
I have put a lot of time into these posts and I would love to know that people are enjoying them.
Jbee


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jbeegoode

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #2 on: October 17, 2013, 09:33:11 PM »
Speaking of Trip Reports, when are you two going to publish your 2013 Alpine Adventure?

I suggest a thread for practicing with the format here. Like while learning how to post pictures and making a mess. A general garbage practice place.
Barefoot all over, all over.

Administrator

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #3 on: October 18, 2013, 09:45:01 AM »
Speaking of Trip Reports, when are you two going to publish your 2013 Alpine Adventure?

I suggest a thread for practicing with the format here. Like while learning how to post pictures and making a mess. A general garbage practice place.

It'll probably be shortly after Xmas. We have a whole heap of film to get developed, sorted and scanned, and that's when we should have it done. These medium format films are a lot of work!

Karla

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #4 on: October 19, 2013, 09:17:57 AM »
Good point. I had better get down to working on the latest update again, although it's another skinny dipping trip report from Scotland. We were away last week.  I'll be getting the medium format processed in December when we visit the UK and then we can start creating the updates. I haven't found anywhere in Germany yet to process medium format film.
« Last Edit: October 19, 2013, 09:21:29 AM by Karla »

jbeegoode

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #5 on: November 14, 2013, 03:07:27 AM »
Our excursion was to check out trailheads and terrain for next summer’s hiking in the Pinaleno Mountains, aka Mt. Graham…and have some fun. There is plenty of back country there. There are perennial creeks and falls and lush pine forest. Deciduous trees align the creeks at the lower elevations. The elevations are anywhere from 3000 ft to over 10,000 ft. It is a two hour drive from home in which we carnuded. Here’s the story….

Friday, after shopping, dressed, I arrived at DF’s place about 9:00pm. Stripping, I declared a commitment, if possible, that that would be end of clothing for the next three days. Maybe a cloak or something for the fridged temps at 10,000 feet. I finished the packing, naked in the cover of darkness. A bag and food cooler would be all that would go out in the morning.

We set off down the interstate across Arizona’s southeast. On this day, we would be traveling to Wilcox, a small ranch/farming town, up a farming valley to Ft. Grant, and over Stockton Pass. We would be checking out the lower trailheads and terrain for next summer’s hiking in the Pinaleno Mountains, aka Mt. Graham.

I quickly got dressed in shorts and T to order a sandwich and pump gas at a Wilcox exit. I might as well as just stayed dressed for the short drive to an organic apple orchard for very inexpensive bags of our pick out of four kinds. I showed up and slipped on just shorts. The lady at the stand looked at me funny. Topfree must be unusual in that area.
 
Fort Grant a correctional facility was creepy.  So creepy that my girlfriend (referred to as DF) put on a t-shirt to travel around it, through a residential housing and out a jeep trail to a trailhead that we thought we might leave a car at, to hike down to.

We had two more trailheads to check out as we went across Stockton Pass. There were many people in campers. It was almost crowded. Then, I saw the camouflage and binoculars. Hunting season was on. The next day we saw deer safely on the top of the mountain.
____________
We had a reservation at the essence of Tranquility Hot Mineral Springs. There are five private tubs of different themes and a public one. Having driven across country naked, I grabbed my bathrobe and arrived at the front desk in that and flip flops, prepared. For a set of good pictures go to their website: http://www.azhotmineralspring.com/
I began to unload the truck and saw a familiar face from Tucson. That was fun. This is a rustic spa. It is very cute the way it is decorated. Each sleeping unit has a theme. Ours was tropical beach. With reeds on the ceiling, Hawaiian flowers and rattan, it was cozy. There was a painting of a boat on a beach spanning the extra wide door looking like a window.
We lay in bed and projected out to sea.

After trying out the heart shaped tub we were wiped out, we laid down awhile, tried the Budda room tub and then had a fine dinner in the rec-room and communal kitchen. I checked the topo maps for the next day’s explorations and clued DF into my research. She was to be the co-pilot, as I drove. Our friend stopped by. She lives just a few minutes from the hotsprings and is an old friend, neighbor, of the owners. We tried out the larger deeper pool together for an extended period. We used foam noodles to float in the wonderfully soothing mineral waters. Its decor reminded me of the hot spring baths in Japan, when I was a kid.

We went back to the room and talked until midnight. She went home and we watched Don Juan with Johnny Dep and Marlon Brando, me obliged to imitate his lines and moves while DF laughed at me.

We slept as long as we liked, had breakfast, did another soak in yet another two tubs, and packed ourselves down the road in a pleasant mood.
_____________________________
For the next day, the plan was to run the 32 miles with minimal stopping, marking the driving times and then stop for fuller exploration on the way back. The road is totally switch backs many at less than 20mph. About half of the road is dirt. It took us nearly two hours. We were to be at our friends before sundown. There were constraints.

The truck was warm. We opened the moon roof and gaged the cooler temps by sticking our hands up and out. The air was good on naked bodies. We cruised through many types of pine and aspen. The fall was just starting at the base in the valley. Then elevation brought us into the fall colors as we ascended. The air cooled even more from there, about 17F degrees cooler at the top and 30Fdegrees cooler from the valley below.
_________________________
We stopped at a potential out of car campsite . It is off of the bend of a road, where a trail goes up next to a creek to two fallen trees. There is a flat area for a tent. We parked and stretched. The crisp air was invigorating and calm. I grabbed my five fingers shoes and walked over to sit on a log to put them on. We walked back a bit further and photographed the creek, WITH WATER! The air had a wonderful aroma, but when I picked up a large pinecone, it stuck globs of aromatic pine on my fingers that wouldn’t go away. There was more driving ahead.

Where the fires had gone through a few years ago, groves of small aspen, so thick that one couldn’t walk through them, were growing on each side of the road amongst ancient Ponderosa, blue spruce and many more. Occasionally, the valley thousands of feet below appeared and then the vista stretched out past Tucson to the west, or southeast into Mexico and Texas. There was awe. We reached Riggs lake, an 11 acre pond and stepped out for lunch. It was winter there. I got to try out my stay warm backpacking outfit. It worked. Sometimes naked ain’t in the cards. We sat on two stumps at the waters edge, eating and watching. The winds picked up. The chill factor must have been easily low 30’s F.

We took photos for future reference at each point of trail or campground. I needed to explore the round the mountain trail a bit. There is a four-wheel drive trail back to the trailhead. This trail then connects with three other hiking trails. The road was blocked by a fallen tree, approximately ¾ of the way there. We got out and walked. I stopped DF in her tracks and had her just listen. It was calm, serene, and greatly untouched. A howl like a waterfall could be heard in the distance and slowly was winding up the canyon through the trees. It was wind. It came dancing up to us as we watched its influence on the trees each in turn. This place is going to be perfect next year when things warm up again.
___________________________
There are numerous potentials in the Pinaleno Mountains; too many to explore in just one day. This will become a huge playground for us.  I have topo maps of the northern base of the mountain and I wanted to look at the potential for the trailheads and camping, both out of a backpack and the truck. Perhaps we might hike down a canyon from top to bottom. Most trails are very steep.

 We had to hurry back to arrive at our friend’s in the foothills of the north face. We needed light to orient, unpack and then have dinner. The arrival timing was perfect.

We drove further north on the highway toward Safford and found our turnoff. We passed into a desert creosote forest and into a mesquite basque flood plain. She lives amongst the confluence of canyon washes at around 3000 ft. She has been there for 30 years, now. As we pulled through the gate, to the right was an old double decker hippie bus and then another shortly later, like Ken Kesey’s Further, with tires flattening. Venturing further, we came across her two yurts. These two canvas structures are thirty years old. She has been rolling elastomeric roof coating on them and these five year life expectancy cloths are strong as ever. We found her truck, parked and headed for the 20 foot diameter yurt that sits up a set of steps, high above the ground on a platform supported by heavy post. I was delighted. She had told me previously that she has found many friends disrobing at her gate. I arrived barefoot all over. The soil in this flood plain is soft and without rocks, nor pebbles. I remained as such, mostly, from then on, savoring each delightful mindful step.

Our friend came out of her door to greet us. Dressed. For an unknown reason, I felt kind of naked and out of place. The other two were dressed, but these are two women, which whom I have spent many hours with nude. I got over it. She invited us into a most wondrous anachronism of the sixties. The yurt was very roomy, with a huge bed under a loft. The wooden rafters all pointed to a skylight high above. The walls were covered with bureaus and lady’s fun clothing. I love the feel of a circular yurt.

She directed us outside after a few minutes to acquaint us with the situation. Around the back, a porch extended into a cottonwood tree, with leaves turning gold. There was a nest up high. She told us that a family of red hawks had been living there and tales of their offspring.

This place is earthy and practical. It radiates a free culture and attitude. It has the healthy pioneer spirit that settled this country. It adapts to the land and circumstances. We saw the other yurt, one 24 foot diameter, where we would be sleeping. It had parachute cloth on the ceiling and felt remarkably spacious. It had an old pot-belly stove with wood piled next to it. Two large windows sat across from each other. A bed frame and a futon were covered with numerous quilts. She had spent the day vacuuming and readying it for our visit. Prayer flags looped around the ceiling and family pictures brought a sense of a home to it. The next stop, across the bridge, was a large stone counter with a concrete top. It was for preparing food and washing dishes. Next to it was yet another old school bus. Inside this one, was a kitchen with a solar refrigerator and propane stove and custom cabinets. Just outside, was a shed with an array of solar batteries. She has been living off of the grid for many years. The next stop amazed me. She had told me of her bathhouse before, but I didn’t expect this. It is made from river stone. To one side there is a small door for the large sauna/sweat room. On the other an open bathroom with twin showers, a claw leg tub, and more.

We got settled and had a wonderful potluck meal. She had prepared for a sweat. The wood burning tanks had been heating long enough. The air had cooled and I had been wearing a medieval woolen cloak to be naked, but warm. I dropped it to share the steam room. She had a hose with a spray nozzle which quickly created steam and heat. All evening I would hear the whoosh sound of the spray hitting the hot iron pipes like an industrial boiler room, as the heat would rise. We spent hours in and out of there, taking breaks to cool, lying in recliners nude, watching the skies. A half moon was bright, leaving a few distinct stars, then clouds crept in to cover it. After time, these clouds dispersed into vast fingers, expanding from a point in the east, crossing to the western sky, finally uncovering the moon once again.

About mid evening, the manager of the hot springs came over on a break from cleaning the pools, to join us. He gifted a few trays of various delicious fresh sprouts, which we clear cut the next day. Also, he brought some lemon BEER.

I scraped down my pores with a tough rag. I occasionally rinsed with the cooler water from the spray nozzle, a sort of quick cold plunge. Inside the bathhouse, the claw leg tub was filled with cold water to soak in. Back and forth, back and forth for more. I achieved the desired results.

We finally went to our yurt, collapsing on the futon bed and just sat and looked at the anachronistic world, “flashing-back” to times of youthful experiences and dreams. We reflected on changes through life. She had lit incense for us. The aroma was divinely pleasant. We slept comfortably like two logs jammed in a soft slurry, until daylight began to beam into the structure.
_____________
I stepped out the round portholed door into another perfect morning, which lead to a perfect day, eventually in the mid 80’sF. Framed by the huge mesquite, I was struck by how good life was, as I, bared of everything, wandered around on the soft earth, feeling the sun. I walked down the paths, dirt roads and driveway. I visited the quaint yet impressively crafted buses and piles of materials. I took photos.

We were eating breakfast, as our hostess came to see us at a table under a canopy. We had tea and told her that we had sincerely decided that she was probably the most gracious of any, or all hostesses. We knew that she had spent days cleaning, as she mentioned that, “I never go in there.” She said that she needed to do that anyway, she was glad get the push to do it. We commented on how she ran the sweat as we relaxed, she told us that she was grateful to have someone here to share it with, to make the effort worthwhile. We stated our intention to help her with any chores, but we all went for a nice nude hike up stream to explore, instead. She said that it would get her to get back to hiking more.

We began walking through the forest of mesquite and weeds coming out onto a trail that lead us to yet another old school bus, where one neighbor was starting a living environment. Then after that, passing an artist studio, where our friend sometimes goes to use the more efficient smaller wood sweat with them. We came upon a fine stone house owned by yet two more artists. The open front door revealed a small antique travel trailer in the center. They had lived in it, while using the local stones to build their home around it. It was now the kitchen and sitting as if a piece of camp art, or a valued museum piece on display.

We went on. The next neighbor was at home, working on a new sheltering building. Our friend shouted, announcing, “Warning, naked people coming through.” He just smiled, as she told him that we were going for a hike.

We went on into the Arizona Trust lands, through a gate. The trust is very abused. Immediately the vegetation became much less diverse and the mesquite and ground tortured. A rancher rents this area from the state to raise cattle. He had destroyed a water pond used by wildlife recently, by grading away a very old aqueduct and letting cattle over use it. He had been grading illegal roads the same way. Disgusting.

We went past this, and up a rocky stream bed, passing the shade of a few cottonwoods, before turning back. Pretty pleasant going for most of the three miles out and then back, no backup clothing, just shoes, my hat, water and camera. We had traversed over and into a canyon with the magnificent Pinalenos rising above.

We looped down a dirt access road to an amazing find. Our friend had had an archeologist visit. This place had been a trading center for the Native Americans. There were so many pottery chards that we couldn’t walk without stepping on some. It was from all over. Several tribes had traded here. I recognized some as from other places at different times. There was a rock foundation for a hut. There are channels for irrigation where they grew crops. We browsed the pottery naked, where other naked people had met with these same pots hundreds of years before.

We returned and ate a fine meal once again. We discussed alternative home construction and the new stone house that she wants to build. The sun went down. It got cold fast and I put on clothes again. Even pants. How disconcerting! We drove to Wilcox, and gassed up. The heater was on, the truck warm, so we got rid of the silly clothes. We ended our three day freerange adventure at home, unloaded, showered, bed.

Hopefully, I can post a couple of pictures out of so many. One is looking down Grant Creek Canyon to Ft. Grant and then way out southwest. The Pinalenos are sacred to the Native Americans. Spirits dance up there, so one quirk photo with imagination later....
Jbeegoode




« Last Edit: August 09, 2016, 06:35:32 PM by jbeegoode »
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jbeegoode

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #6 on: December 20, 2013, 02:15:20 AM »
Happy Holidays to all. There will be more sun each day after Saturday and more trip reports as the year progresses (probably as fast as this one zipped by). Will Carla and Stuart's 2013 Alpine Adventure be the first one of the year? The race is on.
Jbee
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jbeegoode

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Re: Holiday Hike
« Reply #7 on: December 27, 2013, 03:53:03 AM »
DF has been curious of the Santa Rita Mountains south of Tucson. Her granddaughter lives out in the foothills of the area. I looked at my 13 year old topos. There looked to be potential for a good hike. One jeep trail seemed to lead to Sycamore Canyon, which is rife with old mines and possibly sycamore trees. The other trail leads out passing where I used to go to target practice, back in the 80’s. We knew that there are a few homes back there as they are visible from a distance. The trail appeared to lead to a loop just inside Federal lands (where nudity is not illegal. We would be in the area on Christmas Day after attending the big unwrap Santa’s bounty in the morning.

Around noon, we took off down a back road to find the Sycamore Canyon route. We found a Sycamore Canyon Rd. in a subdivision. We drove out a jeep trail in a pretty lush desert, but it merely took us around a loop. Returning, we stopped to ask a couple what they knew about the route. He had a hunting rifle and she a small appliance box. I’m not sure what they were doing out there. It’s not hunting season. His answer was that the road was over a probably 20 foot tall pile of fill dirt that we had passed, but he said that it was blocked off with a gate, as private property. He suggested other routes into the canyon area. Our investigation proved that he was correct. It was a nice drive in the desert.

The other route at the end of Houghton Rd. was mapped as a 4x4 jeep trail, but we discovered this now paved through an exclusive neighborhood. We drove to the end of the pavement to find a steel gate and rail fence and a sign offering 26 acres with Federal land on two sides. This was the place that we had been looking for that would take us to some federal lands. 

Two dogs barked at us then whined as we walked away from the truck. It was as though they recognized their own boredom coming, after the excitement walked away. There was a cold chill of a breeze coming down the canyon hillside. I had switched to black sweatpants and sweat shirt with fivetoe shoes, from my Christmas regalia. DF had hiking pants and three layers of clothing on top, as well as her daypack.

We continued up the trail identifying hoof prints. These lost our concerns pretty soon. We saw them both going our way and coming back. They also showed-up in the occasional grassy bogs. Obviously these had been made when the mud was more fresh, just a couple of days before. No worries, the place was ours.

The old jeep trail was soon found and as per the topo map, it curved around and then went up a hill. From this, I had a fair idea where the federal lands began. We then roamed on up a ridge, flanked by two small canyon-like washes.

We were deciding what to further explore, as we went along. I was feeling warm, but a bit hot and confined in my clothing. The breeze was outside of it, keeping me from getting more exposed. It felt a bit clammy. This was the first time that I have been hiking with the voluntary intention to stay clothed to stay warm, in years. The experience just had to be better. I asked DF for some support as I pulled and stretched the elastic bottoms over my shoes. There were no big rocks; just a lot of smaller and not very rounded stones, making it tough to sit on the ground to disrobe. The shoes and pant bottoms made for a commitment, because they would definitely not be quick to put back on, that is, if we ran into somebody. I put the pants into DF’s backpack. I immediately felt more comfort, freedom and fluid movement for my legs. The sun felt good in spite of the wind. Further on, I was sure that the sweat shirt alone would be enough. I rolled it up a bit, but left my chest and shoulders covered. This hike was taking shape.

The two rut trail became a single horse track and then died completely. We were left with scratchy grey bushes to walk through with interspersed prickly pear and agave. We couldn’t really see what was ahead because of the ridge, but it looked like a pass. There were ocotillo growing there, but the few saguaros were on a distant ridge to the north of our south eastern course. I looked for clues as to why they grew there and not otherwise. I suspected that the sun in the cold winter would shoot through the pass, casting the morning sun’s heat through the corridor so the saguaros wouldn’t freeze there. If we got over to the saguaros, we might see the pass and know what we were getting into.

We were bushwhacking at this point, or more plainly put, dodging cactus and pricker plants as we zigzagged through the foliage. We commented that there was no way that we would attempt to do this during snake season. Between the distant saguaros and us, it looked like on the other side of another smaller wash, the vegetation was more grassy and passable. It was, we found a way to cross over to it, but there was then discovered a deeper wash with a twenty foot drop off, before us.

If we picked out a way through this, we could move up stream of the bigger wash and possibly cross it. I could see a rock formation that might cross the wash bed back in there. It could be an interesting old mine, too. Moving through this mess was not fun and very slow, but that idea worked. We then found an animal trail which lead though the vegetation down to the rock formation.

This was a neat place. The rock was more dense than local granite, with a reddish tint and green/yellow highlights. There is probably some mineral in it. We could see how the water will sometimes cascade through it washing it smooth. DF found a spot where the wind was blocked somewhat. We both got properly naked. I discovered water seeping out of the rock a few feet away. Nice spot.

We ate our cracker and pate snack, climbed around, bathed in the sun and took photos. I jogged back up stream until I found a larger ponding and a waterfall rock formation.

We discussed taking this wash back instead of the way that we came. It appeared to be pretty clear. My concern was the later time of day, if we couldn’t climb back out and were forced to double back a mile or more to get to the truck. Also, the sun, blocked by the cliff, might present some cold air in the shade. There was also the rocky ground that a wash will attack feet with. We decided to do what we already knew would work and see if that wash could be a viable route in a future hiking date, before taking it on this day.

DF got dressed, I slipped on the sweat shirt and we climbed out, through the thick desert growth. We finally found the trail again and walked back.

The agave is being used to make didgeridoos. One that had fallen had a long split or crack in it. As it rubbed into the Ocotillo that it had fallen into, it would make a squeak sound as the wind blew it around. The vibration sound traveled down and was amplified by the tube. “What’s that? An animal?” we wondered, before investigation.

We came across the remains of an old adobe ranch house on a butte like lookout and discovered how to use the big wash the next time. A thousand feet from the truck, we heard voices. In the wind, it was hard to judge from where and what distance. Then, I saw people on the ridge near to where we had been at the old ranch house ruins. Time to stumble around putting on the pants over the shoes, using Df’s body to block their view of me, and her stability to not fall over. I had thought that I would make it back to the truck bottomless, but….

We further investigated the entry to the big wash. We then drove into the new neighborhood that has sprung up near there in these hills. It was surprisingly developed, prolific and upscale.  The next discover outing will definitely include google satellite shots as well as topo beforehand. We did enjoy ourselves, our exploration, a 2 1/2 hour hiking foray and some pure freerange naturism on a Christmas Day’s afternoon.

Barefoot all over, all over.

jbeegoode

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #8 on: January 31, 2014, 10:06:52 PM »
With both of us not working on a Tuesday and the weather particularly excellent, I began to look for a new SN adventure in the wilds. I had looked into Cochise Stronghold in the Dragoon Mountains, but then realized that it is at a higher elevation and colder. What is the sense in having excellent weather and then going someplace cold? I had read about a mountainous area near Florence Arizona on a 4x4 club website. When a friend told me that it is some of his favorite 4x4 places, I decided to research. Its elevation is close to that of Tucson and the temperatures are similar. I inquired with another friend, a rock hound, and was told enthusiastically about the delights there. We could get back in there and probably find some good hiking.

It was another beautiful day again. We were still a bit tired from the weekend and then the day before on Patagonia Lake. I had to stay dressed to get gas and drinking water, but could barely wait to get my pants off and move comfortably down the scenic road to Florence, Arizona. This highway gives me memories through the years, triggered by the familiar sights.

We came to the turn off, discovering that much of it was now paved. It did eventually turn to dirt and I found a place where I could safely get out naked and turn the locking hubs to get into four wheel drive. The road went out about ten miles, when we saw a sign for Box Canyon LLC, Thinking that that was it, we turned in to find no trespassing signs and a large gravel pit. I couldn’t imagine someone closing off the entrance to an entire mountain range. We continued further and I was relived to see that the road lead to a BLM managed gateway, complete with a good off road map of the area. The place was just beautiful. The vegetation was ironwood diverse desert, my favorite kind. The vistas were rugged with many colors in the rocks.

At the beginning we discovered a group of retirement aged men on quads looking up to the side of a nearby cliff. We found out later that they were looking at three bighorn sheep, looking down on them. We didn’t want get close to them while undressed and wanted to make as much distance as we could from them, so we could have our privacy, nude. This was one time that being nude and avoidance cost us a special treat. Spotting Bighorn Sheep is rare.

This Canyon runs along about 2 miles with steep walls 100 and then more feet high. The gorge is just enough for a full sized truck to get through in many places with just inches on each side. It felt tight in my 4runner. We came to a rough spot and I got out to inspect, plan the route over these rocks so as not to wreck the truck and take some air out of the tires. I heard motor vehicle noise and decided to put on a pair of shorts for the inevitable encounter. We asked about conditions further ahead as these travelers passed. They said that there would be a couple of rough spots more. I felt at no great risk continuing alone without a backup truck. Besides there seemed to be a lot of traffic here even on a Tuesday. The boxed in canyon would spread out in a half mile into numerous side trails, I was told.

We took a lesser tributary route off of the main drag for awhile, then found a place to park. I suspected that if we climbed a steep hill on foot that we would be able to see the local terrain that was hidden from view and find a place to hike. After climbing we found another trail on the top of the ridge. It lead to a site where people race up a steep grade in their vehicles and motorbikes. There was a cross placed at the base where someone had died.

We found a wash and decided to explore it and look for rocks. There are numerous mines in these mountains, one is called Mineral Mountain. The colorful fun stuff heads down stream.

Rather than climb back down that slippery slope, we found a way to get back, by way of the route that we had been driving on. We had seen only two Polaris vehicles. DF told me that if someone came, she had no clothes with her. She said that I had that pair of shorts in hand, that I should put them in front of me and she would then stand in back of me. We walked back to the truck and then drove it to a place that we had passed for lunch.

Upon parking so as to block some view of passersby in amongst some mesquite trees, by a wash, we set up two chairs with our backs to the road and made a fine lunch. There was always a chance of someone coming down the wash in front of us and we did turn the chairs the other way for the superior view for awhile. We listened and watched two ravens glide high above around the canyon walls. We listened to the silence. Only three other rides came by in the hour or more that we were there. We wandered around unfettered because we found that we could hear all of the vehicles coming in plenty of time.

We decided to walk up the wash and explore a smaller wash coming down the hillside. There was a carpet of grass and it looked inviting enough. It was pristine. We found our voices dropping to a whisper for some reason as we carefully placed each footprint around the vegetation. Dang if I didn’t find a couple of mineral rock specimens. I have seen these for sale at the Tucson Gem and Mineral d show. I’m going to figure out what it is again. I’ve forgotten. The place was peaceful and wondrous.

We needed to get out before sunset. We took all the time we could, however, stopping to take pictures and go through the same driving obstacles as before only backwards and down hill. We figured that most people had left and we needed few precautions to remain nude, other than listening. It took us 40 minutes to drive two miles. Its quality, not quantity, right?

We stopped and walked free-range, no backup, as the sun began to set. There is much to see and explore in those mountains and we will be back, but most likely not on a weekend. We didn’t find a long hike in solitude for exercise, but had a fascinating time well spent. We as a matter of course continued home to Tucson nude and pleased by an incredible day in an incredible place.
Barefoot all over, all over.

jbeegoode

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #9 on: January 31, 2014, 10:19:20 PM »
Patgonia Lake is near the Mexican border, south of us. One has to travel into the border town of Nogales and then out a peaceful, quite beautiful country road to the lake. It is formed by a dam. For details and a pretty video: azstateparks.com/Parks...index.html

We arrived to find this weekday venture to be much less crowded than the Thanksgiving Day reconnoiter that we had done. There were of course people all around, but the store and rental place was closed.

We parked next to the launch area and got the boat ready to launch. We didn’t know what to expect. We were even looking to see if it leaked. I had patched a small hole. We didn’t even know how we would launch it and get in. After placing it in the lake by the ramp, I pulled it by a cord over to a dock, where we would step down into it. It was wobbly at first but much better than a canoe. It took just a little cautious getting used to. We gathered confidence, DF was reluctant to take it out into the deep lake with power boats. We slowly got coordinated with paddles and they took us out and across to some reeds near shore. DF practiced learning her port and starboard and it began to steer the way we intended it to.

We paddled amongst ducks and got comfortable in the no wake zone. I wanted to explore the region of the lake that goes around the bend, which I couldn’t see from the south shores. There would be less chance of seeing others out there. It is a hike around the lake to there and we couldn’t be seen as easily, unlike where we were, where we were seen by everyone from everywhere.

Around the bend we saw a couple of boats parked, short rock cliffs to the water, or reed covered shores. There were a few mesquite trees and then the southern Arizona high grasslands on hills with mountains in the distance. There was a picnic table amongst some mesquite with what looked like a landing beach. We saw two people fishing off of their powerboat in the distance as we approached and nearer two guys sitting on their boat. We heard a buzz of small gasoline motors and realized that the two guys were sailing two small remote controlled toy/hobby speedboats.

The reeds made a cove-like covering as we made land. We figured out how to step out and tie up the boat. The rudder assembly had come apart. I needed to fix it. A good quality duck tape called “Gorilla Tape” did the trick.

The small peninsula provided a good cover from most angles with the trees and reed wall we discovered. With the locals spotted, the sun warm, little breeze and 70 F temperature, it was an SN opportunity knocking.

The long sweat pants were difficult to get over my shoes and would be difficult to put back on. No pants was a commitment. The sun felt good. Except for five toe shoes, I was soon nude and basking in the mid-day sun.

As I sat at the picnic table, munching on snacks, the toy powerboat guys were leaving. I could be seen as they passed. I took the pile that was my pants and placed them at my side to cover my thigh. With the pile there, they couldn’t tell if I was wearing any cover or not. It worked well, not even a curious eye bat, as DF took pictures for our SN report. There is a lot of fishing going on there. We found some unusual fruit up in the tree branches near the shoreline. Closer inspection told us that it was fishing line, bobs and weights. ;D

This emboldened DF and she stripped out of the rest of her clothing, as well. She had been in a black bra, looking bikini-like. We spent a very pleasant, but short half an hour, or so, wandering around the spot. The other boat left. She joined me in the sitting at the picnic table ploy as they passed. Then as they came around the bend in sight again, a few tree trunks, a little distance and their looking forward covered us as I took pictures of her, lounging nude in sight, but unseen. I used her body and this to cover with as I took photos.

Up the hill a tad, there was what looked to be a monolith, but was soon recognized as a public toilet. That was okay, but the feds have rented out the area to ranchers, so there were cow paddies dispersed here and there in the site. Why cow excrement is okay, but human’s not? Maybe the monolith is just for modesty, for someone to hide in a fiberglass box, on a hot day, baking in sweat, in clothing, I….soapbox.

We had to get back for a 7:00 pm appointment, with many unknowns, like paddle time, pulling the boat out time, rigging time and an hour and a half drive. We reluctantly left. We put on clothing. It would be dangerous to try to put on pants in the wobbly boat and compartment. The docking would be very exposed. There is a constant cold water drip off of the paddles that makes a thick pant welcome and a cool breeze was starting to come across the lake as the day went on.

After pulling the boat in, rigging it up, and securing the equipment, I was able to strip down in the parking lot and continue home in the nude. I did throw a shirt over my crotch at a border patrol check point briefly. I was asked, “Are you a US citizen?” and replied, “Yup.”
Jbee
Barefoot all over, all over.

jbeegoode

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #10 on: May 09, 2014, 10:47:43 AM »
A CELEBRITY!
I had seen your alpine adventure post before, but as I was looking to see if i somehow missed your promised new one, suddenly, I noted the nude dog that was along on your trip. Am I correct that that is the same dog from the Oddisee site, "The naked Bunch"? The pink tongued cyber celeb? Are my dots connecting?

So...about that fascinating post of your last Alpine adventure..... ;D
Jbee
Barefoot all over, all over.

Kayaker2

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #11 on: April 27, 2017, 10:00:10 PM »
I really enjoy reading these reports and the intricate detail on terrain in various parts of the world, from Scotland to Southwest USA and John's boating trips.  Where are those boat stories, I like to reread each one.  JBee you really have a gift.  Maybe an audio book option would be something to consider on your website for those who are blind.  It's a bit oxymoronic to have a website reference for sight challenged, but I do think it would really catch on. Are you still drumming?

jbeegoode

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #12 on: April 27, 2017, 11:27:08 PM »
Drumming, an occasional gig with the Sweat Band. Guitar fer fun and campfires. I've been working on circular breathing on a didgeridoo. I've been making lots of different sounds, it takes practice, but practice is fun like playing with a toy. You can't muck it up.

I'm pleased to get encouragement for the website, thank-you.
Jbee
Barefoot all over, all over.

eyesup

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #13 on: October 12, 2018, 05:32:36 AM »
Long time no hear, Hymie! Good to hear from you. Too bad about all the cameras. Are they all private or are any of them for monitoring the wildlife?

I remember when I was little, we would go to Louisiana to visit relatives. Beautiful state. Gorgeous drives through the forests. I always enjoyed the drive on 1-10 over the Atchafalaya Swamp. That part of Louisiana is a different place altogether.

Yeah man, Jbee! I thought hunting meant you went out to track the animal. Not zeroed in on it and launched a strike. But the motto on the Louisiana license plates said it all (at least back when I was a kid), “Sportsman’s Paradise”.  I guess not any more.

Unfortunately the only entity large enough to control a mega-international-corp is a government. As Jbee points out, I’m beginning to wonder if that’s a good idea. The government seems to respond to anyone with the money. Liberal or conservative. Whoever will protect the bureaucrat’s job is the one they respond to.

Duane

eyesup

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Re: Trip reports
« Reply #14 on: October 12, 2018, 05:33:33 AM »
Quote from: John P
"The finest sight a Scotsman ever sees is the high road that  takes him to London."
On leaving college in 1975 after the spring finals and heading back to East Texas I saw a note written on a blackboard (remember those?); “Happiness is Lubbock in the rearview mirror!” It’s all about perspective.

It’s very flat there! . . . . . and dusty! . . . . . Did I mention it’s flat.

Nice, pic John! I think I have seen one or two abandoned beaver dams in my life. I’ve never seen an occupied one. What a treat!

We don’t see too many beaver this far out west. Are they very territorial?

Duane