Yes Eyesup, I have been alerted by the SN sense on occasion, but it is not a phenomena that I have come to rely upon. More often than not, our first alert is the sound of distant voices, sometimes accompanied by a distant flash of color seen through the foliage way ahead. A lot can be assessed through the sound of the voices and character of conversation as that first sound draws closer. Sometimes the voices never get any closer. So we take our time in deciding whether to cover. Locale of our hike and context, day of week and other intangibles also weigh into our decision. And getting dressed for us is merely slipping on something that covers our loins with a minimum of effort and fuss. Running Kilt or very light skirt for me, velcro terry beach wraps or faux kilts for others, for John, his Sarong. They will all be back off as soon as they were put on.
On occasion though our remote forests, even on a relatively straight stretch of trail where we think that we can see well ahead, a person will seem to pop out of nowhere with no apparent warning. So over time, we have become accustomed to giving the person a cheery greeting, often a brief pleasant exchange of conversation, and then continuing on our way. Most anywhere throughout New England and beyond that we regularly choose to hike or paddle naked, such unintentional encounters have either been friendly, or ambivalent. In the rare instance of a negative reaction it has been along the lines of a frown, diverted eyes, or a lame snide remark. So I guess that encountering others while naked has become second nature to us. But erring on the side of caution we choose far less often to hike or paddle naked in our densely populated urban public spaces around eastern Massachusetts, and we never count upon SN sense on those occasions.
As for names of places and features around here, they have often been handed down to us by the British and Dutch "first immigrants". Many more remain from the time of the "first peoples". In any case it is quite a rich stew of names and terminology. Middlesex Fells is the name of a particular place just north of Boston a vestige of our British heritage. Around the Hudson River valley and down into the basin where it meets the sea, "kill" in the states of New York and Pennsylvania is indeed the part of many local river names, a holdover from the Dutch. However the words "fells" and "kills" are not widely used interchangebly with hill and river in everyday conversation. They remain only as parts of names either given long ago or more recently applied in some romantic wish to recapture a fanciful past.
Funny that you mention the word "saddle" as it pertains to trail contours. Here a dipping or undulating ridge line that connects two summits, often with a trail upon it is call a "saddle" or in a more extreme case might be called a "knife edge". Whereas, a "pass" with a trail running through it between two mountains is sometimes called a "notch", if not simply called a pass. Deciphering and comparing local terminologies is lots of fun, a spice of life.
-Dan
