The Naked Truth

By Johnny Walker

In my heart I knew that to experience a cold plunge into a mountain lake had to be a good thing. It sure felt good! The years passed by and as a young adult I found myself living and traveling on a small cruising sailboat. Any occasional nudity was the by-product of bathing on a regular basis - usually when I was anchored in a private cove and sometimes alone in the open ocean. I’d often put my laundry in a mesh bag and towed it overboard for an hour or two before bringing it on board to be rinsed in the next tropical rain shower. My nudity during this laundry process lacked an audience - other than a few seagulls who seem to enjoy the sight.

The following day, we rented a car and headed to the orchard. Following our friend’s directions we eventually drove up to a 15-foot tall gate on the edge of a very large orange orchard. We pushed the button on the unmarked post and it slowly opened.

I interpret the term “adventure” broadly. Adventure is the theme of my novel which will likely be published when my end is near - a good reason to procrastinate. True adventure usually requires an element of risk, an edge that cannot be stepped over. I explore this subject in all my stories. My storyline this month is “nudity.” Here in America we do have an issue concerning nudity, while most Europeans do not share this taboo (except the English, of course). But, like any adventure, nudity does have its risks. The Valley Voice could publish your nude image on the front cover, taken at last year’s Rainbow Gathering. The headline might read “Ten thousand hippies run naked through the forest.” My editor, Matt, might sketch a great cartoon to enhance the story. And then a “friend” would send a copy to your adult, more conservative, friends and family! And that’s just the beginning!

I was raised by somewhat modest parents in a fishing village on the Columbia River where nudity was never really discussed, maybe it’s because in that coastal Oregon climate we wore lots of clothes, mostly rain gear. I never thought about nudity until I had a camp counselor who sneaked about a dozen of my fellow campers down to the lake after “lights out.” We stripped down, taking off everything, and jumped in the freezing waters of the Mount St. Helens lake. That dive was my first great adventure and the beginning of my private journey into the world “skinny dipping.” All that was fine and nobody saw me. I took that as a victimless crime but my puritanical guilt seemed to stay with me.

Back in Steamboat Springs I experienced a new level of “nudity” at the Strawberry Park Hot Springs. Even with my history of private nudity (I still make no claim to being a nudist), I found that nudity, in the daylight with real people around to be a whole different experience. In those days, before a plowed road or admission fee, the Hot Springs offered a great adventure. Oh God, I thought I was confident with my clothes off, but as I skied down to the water’s edge and casually waved to a few folks already in the hot pools, I realized I was out of my league. I remember every milli-second that afternoon of taking off my skis, then my parka, then sweater and turtleneck. I was sure everyone was staring at me! I hung my clothes on my ski poles and ventured towards the steaming water. People were quieting talking and not staring at me. I have learned not to believe everything you think. The warm water was heavenly, the blue skies, cool air and friendly people made for a perfect day. I left with a bit less fear about nudity in public. It just seems that sometimes the appropriate dress was none at all!

Another year had passed by and I’m now back in the islands. I had an addition to Tumbleweed’s crew, my partner and wife, Gigi, who had never been on a sailing cruise, or on a nine-month cruise aboard a floating space of 24 feet. My beloved Gigi is not an extrovert or a “nudist” by anyone’s judgement, but in my enclosed photo there is just no place for a bathing suit. I took this shot from Tumbleweed’s cockpit just after she returned from a morning jog (fully clothed) and traditional swim. Clothing on the boat was skimpy, at best and private space onboard was very limited. Our first voyage was nine months of sailing the Bahamas. We sailed without engine, electronics, or defined itinerary. Upon our return to the Florida coast at West Palm Beach, we experienced an understandable “culture shock.” We tied up to a marina and began to prepare Tumbleweed to be left alone while we returned to life back in Steamboat. We recognized the crew of another boat that had made landfall the previous week. When we asked where they’d been, they said they’d been camping and we inquired more to find out the details. It turns out that they had a membership to a “camping resort” several miles inland within a fruit orchard and we could stay a few days as their guest. “Oh, that would be perfect!” We were then informed that the resort was actually a nudist colony. Hmm, we thought that would be OK, we’d been almost naked for the last nine months.

A whole world, unbeknownst to us, opened up. It was a real nudist colony! We slowly drove in following the signs to the office. We passed by people mowing their lawns, riding tandem bicycles, and playing tennis, and dining at a cafe - all nude! We checked at the office (nude receptionist, of course) and preceded to the campground. The “fairly” private campsite was very nice and on the edge of a little lake with complimentary paddle boats (two days earlier we were offshore in the Atlantic Ocean amongst ten-foot seas with no land in sight) Such an interesting contrast. An older man (most people here were older) walked over to our modest camp and welcomed us to the colony. He recommended the restaurant “happy hour,” but we opted to relax around the camp and check out the paddle boat which looked like a large plastic swan. It was a peaceful evening. The next morning, Gigi made her usual sunrise jog. I have a photo of her running through the orchard with nothing on but running shoes. Gigi is much more advanced in her evolution of nudity. I felt a bit self-conscience and stayed close to the camp. Public nudity was a whole lot different than diving into a quiet (and very private) island cove.

It was actually a very nice campground. We braved the nudity of the morning bakery and soon headed back to our home on the water. All was well.

Oh, the years keep flying by. We are now well into our 70’s and we might feel comfortable running around naked if we were as tan and fit while living on Tumbleweed. I confess that these days Gigi and still find enough privacy in our peaceful corner of NW Colorado to occasionally bathe in a mountain lake, free of the wet and cold clothing hanging from our aging bodies. In our minds we are diving off the deck of Tumbleweed into a clear tropical lagoon. Aren’t memories wonderful!

So let’s put our inhibitions aside, just once in a while, and feel young again. We’ll see you up at the hot springs!