Nude New River

 I went hiking a few days ago to explore the potential for stream walking in the upper reaches of the mighty New River.  The New is really more of a biggish stream than a river.  It rises in the uninhabited wilds of Clarendon Parish at the outflow of Adelaide Lake, then wends its way through forest and bog gathering along its course the waters of the Tamarack and several other brooks.  It meanders placidly much of the time but is given to pitching itself violently downslope wherever terrain allows, as it does on several occasions.  Finally it meets tidewater at New River Beach where it flows into the Bay of Fundy through a tangle of rapids and rocks.

My destination was one of the New’s scenes of violence, a set of continuous rapids between two placid pools, a pitch of about eleven metres vertical drop over a run of about four hundred metres, circled in yellow on the satellite photo below.  Being situated more or less in the middle of nowhere the falls’ name, if it has one, isn’t posted for the casual tourist.  I have asked locally and checked with Natural Resources but it seems to be a no-name feature.  For the moment it remains anonymous, a John Doe waterfall.

The head of the rapid looking upstream from Tanners Rocks

I had not seen the place before except from the vantage point of a satellite passing overhead – thanks to the CIA by way of Google Earth – so I chose my target the same way that SAC does, just not with the same grisly intent. The day was fine with high twenties (Celsius degrees of course) and a sky of sun-washed blue only lightly scattered with tiny clouds.  The drive to get there was easy enough: NB Hwy 1 West to Exit 86, then Hwy 175 to Hwy 780, then Hwy 780 for six kms to the crossroads with forest harvest Road #6.  Then it was hidey-ho, onward we go, over the dirt roads to wherever you'd like to go.  Caveat: Do not head out here with the family grocery-getter unless it has four-wheel drive, you’ll need the extra ground clearance. 

Actually, I halted about 150 metres or so short of the river bank where the road dead-ends.  In truth, it veers to the right and continues, but from that point it becomes more of a marsh than a road.  Beyond the dry end of the road there was nothing but forest, not even a game trail, so I bushwhacked my way through fern, scrub and riparian forest not bothering with a compass.  My ears were leading me straight to the sound of the unseen rapids.  On reaching the bank I found the river running high and fast due to recent rains, but it had obviously receded a metre or so in depth during the last few days.  You could see where patches of sedges had been combed flat by the flood and where the New River had, briefly at least, been twice the width I found it when my bushwhacking brought me to its rocky bank.  I had lucked out and had arrived quite by accident at the comfortably flat rocks near the top of the rapids. These are the only such rocks on the eastern bank along the run of this falls, all the rest are fractured with many exposed sharp edges, altogether not good for lounging or laying out to work on one’s tan.  Therefore I named the big smoothish rocks Tanners Rocks.

Tanners Rocks looking upstream

In my mind I divided the falls into three sections, from the upstream pool to the second drop past Tanners Rocks; then a dogleg stretch ending at the top of a final drop and the final drop itself.  From top to bottom is a run of about 420 metres, encompassing a total vertical drop of about thirteen metres.  

Split Falls looking downstream

I realized immediately that the potential for stream walking here was infinite, at that point where infinity approaches zero.  The New was too full, too deep and too fast for stream walking but it would be a great spot for creek kayaking or rafting with something the size of an Aire Puma.  A full-sized outfitter’s raft would be too big – I know; I used to be a raft guide.  This falls rates a solid Class III, probably a Class III+ because of the narrow channel, quick changes of direction and the near impossibility of either shore rescue or self-rescue.  Until you wash over the left drop of the final drop self-rescue by survival swimming is the sole option.  It is the sort of run that creek kayakers might do several times in a day, just for the fun of it.  But there is a problem with that concept, there is no riverside portage trail to hump your kayak back to the top of the run, not unless you’re a moose.  And the terrain is “difficult.” [I use “difficult” here as a euphemism for several other words that spring to mind and lip, none of which are polite.] There is also the problem of the put-in and take-out points.  Put-in at the upriver pond could be managed by some energetic souls hacking a trail through a scant sixty metres of bush.  Take-out exists nine hundred metres downstream on the left, just at the head of the next rapid and requires a 2.5 km shuttle over quite decent woods roads.  Both put-in and take-out will require humping the boats a couple of hundred metres.

Outflow from the eddy below Split Falls

Okay, so stream walking wasn’t an option here.  That really wasn’t that big a deal because the woods roads in the area make it a great place for free-range nude recreation: driving, hiking, camping, fishing and even bicycling . . . and skinnydipping.
 

Never overlook an opportunity for skinnydipping

And for the naturist naturalist there are many sights besides the flora.  In the space of five hours I saw hares, bears, beavers, moose and a young coyote, also many more frogs than I had seen in a long time.  All of this was free for the looking and free of any other person driving through.  Many of the roads out here are dead ends and that helps.  I walked about twelve kms in all, taking my time, walking in and out of sun and shade and thoroughly enjoying myself.  The only strenuous part of the trip had been the bushwhacking in the first instance and then breaking trail alongside the river.  After that it was a walk in the park, but a park of a very different sort.  The area is not parkland, it is a working forest with few areas unharvested except the riparian strips and inaccessible bogs.  Many areas are in various stages of regrowth and are provide wildlife habitat that old growth forest would have denied.  The ease of access and good footing is provided by all those dead-end harvest roads.  So if you go there consider the positive aspects along with the scars left by forestry and the powerline corridor.

But speaking of parks, a very nice thing about the area is that it is located close to New River Beach Provincial Park.  NRBPP is not a nudist recreation area -- which is really unfortunate but totally expected -- but it does have campsites for your tent or your land yacht, as well as a great saltwater beach.  So it provides a good base camp for your nude explorations of the New River back country.  Enjoy!

Reduce, Re-use, Recycle . . . RE-PURPOSE

Wondering what do you do with that old folding golf cart?  Tired of lugging all your beach kit on your back?  One question answers the other.  Re-purpose that old golf cart as a beach cart.  Genius!  Pure genius!

This isn’t my idea but I wish that it was.  On my most recent trip to Blooming Point beach there I was, like some kind of hermit crab, lugging my house on my back.  The combined bulk of a backpack, beach chair and beach umbrella made a substantial and uncomfortable load when trekking down a sandy beach and I was considering just how far I should walk before setting up camp.  When one is oppressed by the weight and bulk of a load and the heat of the sun such decisions are often made sooner than is optimal.  I decided the time and place had arrived, pitched my kit on the ground and set up my beach camp.

No sooner was I done than a brighter light came along toting everything I’d had, plus a small cooler.  (You get 10 bonus points for bringing a cooler to the beach, 50 points if it contains beer.)  There he was, walking along effortlessly, towing his gear behind him on an old golf cart.  Both this and his better-than-average tan told me that this person was a beach pro.  Anyway, he passed on up the beach and set up camp some way farther on.  I lounged in my beach chair, worked on my tan and considered how to source a golf cart and what I might do to convert it for beach use.

Maybe such use of golf carts is common elsewhere, but I’ve been on several different nudist beaches in more than a few countries and this was the first time I had seen it.  And I hadn’t seen them in use amongst the Clothen either . . . maybe I just haven’t been paying attention.  But I have seen beach goers’ stuff strapped onto bicycles and loaded aboard baby buggies and Vermont garden carts.  Once, I saw some guy struggling along the shoreline at Oka-pulco with a wheelbarrow overloaded with two large coolers – the coolers were full of Labatt’s 50 so, les 100 points de bonus.  But c’mon man!  I didn’t want the sort of cart I’d have to bring by truck.  I wanted something I could fold away easily and stow in the trunk of my car.

On return to Textilia I cast about for sources.  Golf shops were out of the question because you just don’t buy a higher-end item and then start cutting it.  So I checked the local do-all store and found that I could have a brand new cart for the small sum of $50 or so.  That isn’t much money but the item on offer had wire-spoke wheels that I didn’t think would last all that well with the tide splashing on them.  As well, it had skinny tires that I didn’t think would float over the sand as easily as I’d like.  After a weekend of doing yard sale walk-bys around the neighbourhood I discarded them as a source, then went online with Kijiji and soon had a few to choose from.  A short drive and $25 later I had what I wanted, a golf cart with plastic wheels and wide tires, barely used, which, considering the pun, was entirely appropriate.

So there is it, no major modifications necessary.  I just removed the score card tablet, rearranged the existing webbing straps, added a few more and voila, a labour-saving device anyone can appreciate.  The test drive at Kellys was a complete success but suggested additional modifications.  Next, I have to lengthen the handle by several inches and alter the footplate to accommodate a small cooler.

The Nudist Dictionary

The Nudist Dictionary, that’s what the Young Naturists of America web page claims it has.  But the definitions on that website are either inadequate dictionary entries or entirely idiosyncratic.  Some bear little relationship to reality, some are contradictory and at least one is just plain silly.

But this is not a rant against the YNA; far from it.  I wish them success in what they are attempting to do.  From what I’ve heard they have organized some very good events and anything they can do of a positive nature to address the body image issues rife within North American society would be a victory for common sense.

The YNA writer starts off with a questionable definition of nudism borrowed from dictionary.com:  Nudism – The belief in or practice of going nude, especially in secluded, gender-mixed groups for reasons of health.   Then they eschew dictionary.com when it comes to defining naturism and switch to the new Oxford dictionary which yields:  Naturism – The practice of going naked in designated areas.   I take issue with both definitions.  The use of the words secluded and designated reads like the dictionaries are subsidiaries of the AANR and the old model for nude recreation.

Now done with dictionaries, the YNA writer is off into the realms of the upper air to define other terms without adding the important caveat “in our opinion:”
Nudist – A Nudist is a person who enjoys nonsexual nude recreation and social nude activities in sanctioned public locations and / or in private ones.
Naturist – A Naturist is a person who enjoys nonsexual nude recreation and social nude activities with a major focus of interest on those activities that take place outdoors, in nature and/or on public land. This group also believes that Naturism and environmental issues are intertwined.
Nudie – We also understand that there are some people who don’t like labels and especially hate the old world terms of nudist and naturist.  Therefore we came up with a third category for such nude-friendly people – Nudie.

What can I say?  Quite a bit, actually but, caveat emptor, these are my own opinions, your mileage may vary.

Naked (adj) – entirely unclothed (in my opinion hats and footwear don’t count as clothing)

Nakie (adj) (joc / infant) – naked

Nude (n) – (1) a naked person, (2) a work of art depicting (1); also (adj) – naked
 
Nudist (n) – (1) “an adherent of the cult of the nude” [NOED definition – not very helpful], (2) a person who likes to be naked just because it feels right, moral, comfortable and/or natural and who follows this lifestyle choice, whether alone or in groups with the awareness that nudism is non-sexualized nudity. In my own opinion, a person can be a real nudist and still not be a naturist.  Many people who are comfortable being naked in private or semi-private cannot manage the evolution necessary to become naturists – i.e. social nudists – fully comfortable with being naked in the presence of strangers.

Naturism (n) – “a lifestyle in harmony with nature, expressed through social nudity, and characterized by self-respect of people with different opinions and of the environment.” [INF definition – authoritative]  But naturism doesn’t end there.  Naturism is a house of many mansions: some segments among Christians, Jews, Neo-Druids, Wiccans, vegans, anarchists, teetotallers, fitness seekers, smoothies, naturals, transcendentalists, pacifists and others claim their own patch within naturism but none of them own the term naturist.  Still, it doesn’t stop the uninitiated from getting into arguments about what constitutes real naturism.

Naturist (n) a nudist who ascribes certain societal principles and ideals to being naked as part of a social group, particularly those aspects of the lifestyle enumerated within the INF definition, and who as a matter of principle becomes involved with naturist society.  See above for some of the sub-genres one might adhere to . . . or not.

Nudie (n) – a young person who likes to be naked but who purports to dislike labels (because that is a big deal these days) so, instead of self-identifying with the existing labels nudist or naturist, adopts the label nudie instead, thereby demonstrating a complete non-comprehension of irony

And I’ll toss in this definition of swinger because the ignoranti among the Clothen are often of the opinion that nudists/naturists are constantly involved in orgies of some sort:

Swinger (n) – (1) a label adopted by sexual libertines seeking to avoid the negative connotations of being labeled as libertines,  (2) a person, either married or unmarried, who engages in social and recreational sex with numerous partners, sometimes of either or both genders, often as a form of performance art – in other words, a sexual libertine.  Swingers/libertines are neither nudists nor naturists but sometimes try to infiltrate nudist/naturist society as they do not understand the fundamental differences between the two lifestyles.

Moving along from the tawdry side of things to the sublime:

Free range naturism (n) – according to Stuart and Karla, the very articulate gurus of the genre at http://freerangenaturism.com/  free range naturism is “naturism without walls, away from the fences and gates of the traditional club, set loose to run free in the wilds.”  That works for me.  Free range naturism is naturism wherever innocent public nudity is tolerated or, failing that, wherever you can get away with it.  That can be on an isolated beach, a mountain trail or in the forest, on private or public land, but not confined to private clubs where one must pay for the privilege of being a natural human.  Free range naturism is the polar opposite of “beached and clubbed” naturism and, I’m happy to own, my preferred form of naturism since I was a teenager, rather longer than Stuart and Karla have been at it.  I used to refer to it as free roaming naturism until 2000 when I saw the animated film “Chicken Run” and switched my terminology.  Imagine my surprise when I happened upon a website with the name Free Range Naturism. 

Free-Ranger (n) – a proponent of free range naturism

Free Hiker (n) –  a person who hikes naked

Free Beach (n) – a public beach at which nudity is accepted

Naktiv (adj) – a portmanteau word coined by Richard Foley to promote naktivism, a form of naturism that combines the idea of being naked with the idea of rather more strenuous physical activity than pickle ball.  Naktivism is another take on free range naturism and is perhaps best known for its signature event, the N.E.W.T. – the Naked European Walking Tour.  For more info google “naktiv”

Textile (n) – longstanding naturist common coinage for a person who is clothed and who cannot (as yet) make the transition to nudism or naturism [compare with “Gentile” as an outsider to the chosen people] – held by some to be a pejorative term; also useable as an adjective, e.g. “textile attitudes”

Clothen (n) – [this is my own coinage, modeled on the word “heathen” to denote a person or persons who does not subscribe to a widely held precepts of naturism, as regarded by those who do] – a person who is clothed and who cannot (as yet) make the transition to nudism or naturism; also useable as an adjective;  also useable as an adjective in the same manner as "textile"

All this said, this is NOT a definitive naturists dictionary.  The fact is that there isn’t such a thing.  No doubt some people will disagree with my definitions, and that is their right.  Definitions for some of these terms are difficult to pin down in that they are not truly definitive, merely guidelines.  Concepts change over time and from place to place.  In Britain my definitions of nudist and naturist would have more traction than they would in the USA where the two words are most often used as synonyms . . . at least by persons not claiming to be nudies.

Topless Equality in Canada

I was out and around today and happened across a friend of mine – an RCMP friend.  So I asked a question or two and we ended up having a fairly long discussion on the matter of toplessness.  For the record, and I told him this, I am completely in favour of equal topless rights.  Why?  Not because it is a chance to see some woman’s breasts, but because it is a chance to see a confident woman exercising both the courage of her convictions and her legal rights.  The RCMP officer was also in favour of toplessness but he didn’t elaborate his reasons.  He doesn’t have to; that is his right.

The topic was raised because of the recent (Summer 2015) incidents in Waterloo and Kelowna where police officers have very clearly overstepped their brief both to know the law and also to uphold it.  Instead, they let their personal prejudices get in the way of their duty.  In the opinion of my friend the RCMP officer in Kelowna is sure to be reprimanded both for what he did and for embarrassing the RCMP in the process.  Frankly, the RCMP has enough problems to sort out without some lout amongst their number simply making things up.

So the conversation continued, because we were in neither Ontario nor BC, but in NB.  "What," I asked, "would be the reaction of RCMP here (or in PEI or NS) to a topless woman.  Would she be arrested?"  The answer is not entirely clear as, for all that the provinces of Canada have a uniform Criminal Code, and all provinces (less Québec) follow the principles of the Common Law, provincial jurisdictions are separate and judges are individuals.  What this means is that while the interpretation of “indecency” vis-à-vis female toplessness has been decided in Ontario and upheld in both BC and Saskatchewan, it has yet to be decided elsewhere.  True, there have been no new charges laid anywhere, but that is not the same thing at all.  There is more work to be done.

For the police within the as yet undecided provinces this situation does not provide firm guidance.  What this means is that the decision is “sort of” left up to the discretion of the individual officer.  If he/she arrests a woman for being topless the officer runs the risk of being pilloried in social media and the press.  If he/she does not arrest a woman for being topless the officer runs the risk of being reprimanded for not upholding the law.  The lack of a uniform cross-Canada legal interpretation represents not only legal jeopardy for any woman wishing to exercise topless equality but also a no-win situation for the officers involved. 

According to my friend, unless an incident of toplessness resulted in some sort of complaint, or unless some other problem such as public intoxication was involved, most RCMP officers would prefer to turn a blind eye to the situation.  If there is a complaint the officer would probably just inform the topless woman of the complaint and, if she covered up, no further action would be taken.  However, since it remains a legal grey area there is no guarantee of that.  Caveat emptor!
 
The situation is clouded further by the fact of the World Naked Bike Ride which involves not only toplessness, but full nudity in places far more public than a beach or a hiking trail.  Since 2004, WNBR events have occurred across Canada, at least once, in all provinces except SK, NB, PE and NL.  The fact that these events took place in an orderly fashion and in most (all?) cases with police escorts, without charges having been laid, is illustrative of the level of community toleration for nudity and semi-nudity within Canadian society as a whole.  Granted, the WNBR is officially a protest event and different rules apply to such events.  And yes, there were some complaints made by the indignant minority but generally such events are greeted by the public with either vocal support or indifference.  This, I consider, bodes well for any real court challenge to anti-toplessness and anti-nudity laws.

But such challenges must be made and court interpretations must be written into the record before women can feel secure in top-free equality, in non-protest situations, in all provinces across Canada.

Naked at Lunch

This is a book review of Naked at Lunch: A Reluctant Nudist’s Adventures in the Clothing-Optional World by Mark Haskell Smith.

Mark Haskell Smith’s book is an investigation into the nude sub-culture within Western society.  Are we, naturists, a sub-culture?  Yes, we are, but we’re more of a sub-sub-culture really, the sub-culture is that of the social nude, and we all know that there are elements of the social nude that would not be welcome within truly naturist society.

I freely admit that I liked the book.  I consider that the author did an admirable job with it.  That isn’t to say that there weren’t some rocky stretches along the way, there were.   Smith’s use of explicit and crude language in places distracts from the message of the book and, for some readers I am sure, from its legitimacy.  If it was meant to provide either emphasis or humour it fails in both categories.  Then there were words that appeared so often I found them to be annoying.  For instance “hipster” – does anyone really say “hipster” anymore?  Maybe it is experiencing a comeback on southern California but really, it gives the book somewhat of a pre-1960 vibe whenever it is all-too-frequently used.  The other one that got my knickers in a twist, which is hard to do to a naturist, was “drop trou” as a euphemism for disrobing / undressing / gittin’ nekkid!  “Drop trou,” who says that?  Or who says it anymore?  It is another refugee from the 1960s so it may have some currency in SoCal.  Who knows?  These are small points indeed, just niggles, but they bothered me.

I was particularly annoyed by the quoted comment by Mark Storey early in the book where he characterizes “freedom” as being a naive, cliché and “dingbat” answer to the question of why a person likes to be naked.  Had I been Smith I could not have resisted refuting such a facile and demonstrably erroneous position and make Storey defend his position on the spot.  But Smith was on a learning curve at this point, so he didn’t do that.  However, cleverly, in much of the rest of the book Smith goes on to do it quite adequately, Storey’s opinion notwithstanding.  Story, on the other hand, is a philosopher and wants to blather on about deep meanings like de-alienation.

At times when I thought there was too much discussion of swingers and exhibitionists, but to be perfectly fair the author was not writing exclusively about naturism or nudism, but about the “clothing-optional world” – the sub-culture of the nude.  Like his previous book about marijuana, Smith is writing about all aspects of a sub-culture unified by a single reference point, in this case social nudity.  The fact that the hypersexualized sub-sub-cultures of swingers and fetishists are poles apart from the non-sexualized world of mainstream naturism is beside the point, those poles are connected by the thin (non-textile I’m sure) thread of social nudity.

Smith takes care to expose the seedy side of Cap d’Agde and although he points out that this is not naturism his graphic and, I consider, unnecessary description of events there cannot help but colour any uninformed reader’s picture of naturism.  Balancing this out Smith underlines the hypocrisy of discrimination by (North) American resorts in their “couples only” policies.  In fairness, he points out that single men often are considered suspect in Europe as well.  While I consider the holy grail of gender balance to be an admirable and desirable goal the reality required to achieve it is blatant discrimination against what may well be the majority element of all naturists, the single (or at least unaccompanied) straight men who, because their wives and girlfriends (if they have both then they are swingers, not naturists) are disinclined to embrace naturism, are treated as pariahs by many clubs and resorts.  Single men are often treated like the aliens in one of those dreadful sci-fi flicks from the 1950s and 1960s who are “only here for our women.”   This is utter codswallop of course, but it is also one of the guiding principles of many naturist clubs and resorts.

I liked Naked at Lunch, I liked it a lot.   I didn’t learn anything from it but I liked the fact that others will.  The book gives a brief history of where naturism came from, how it developed and how it has branched out into several sub-sub-cultures.  It is much more informative than a review of the past, and much more useful than the directory of clubs and resorts that one usually sees.  I particularly liked the fact that Smith gives his readers insight into the authentic thoughts and voices of younger naturists of the present, people like Richard Foley of Naktiv and NEWT, http://www.naktiv.net/index.html/  and Karla and Stuart of Free Range Naturism http://freerangenaturism.com/  These are not the sorts of people whom I joke about as being “clubbed and beached” naturists – the old guard – but the younger and active folks trying to spread the true faith – the naturist evangelists among the clothen and the light to lighten the textiles.


I recommend Naked at Lunch.  Buy it.  Read it.  It will give you something to do after you drop trou and are lying nekkid on your chaise beside the pool with all the other hipsters.

Beach weather, textiles & wussiness

I went to Kellys Beach yesterday.  It wasn’t a great start to the day, what with early morning showers and it being somewhat unseasonably cool, but I had hope and I was passing by anyway on my way home from a trip to the North Shore.  As I approached Kouchibouguac and the day neared noon the thermometer was wobbling back and forth between 18ºC and 19ºC and the sky was a 50/50 mixture of sun and cloud, so why not.  By the time I got to the parking lot the temperature registered 20ºC – neither too hot nor too cool – perfect!

Except for the three lifeguards huddled together up in track suits and hoodies, and about a dozen textiles barely less tentative about the day, the beach was empty.  To be fair there was a fresh breeze blowing onshore and the surf was a bit excited so for most people, at least the kind that tend to take up one position on the sand, then lie there unmoving – like a dead whale – it might seem a bit cool.  But the wind and surf have another effect, that of throwing dead and living sea creatures ashore, which attracts the terns, gulls and sandpipers to make the beach much more appealing by their presence and their cries.

I’m not the dead whale variety of beach person so I set off southwards along the tide line at a determined pace.  I’d already lost shoes and shirt to my backpack and wanted to put the requisite distance between myself and the textiles before losing the shorts as well.  One thousand paces suffices for that.  I pressed onward walking along and realizing the other benefit of the wind – no flies.  Bonus! 

At about three kms I ditched the backpack, added some low SPF sunblock and continued southward, reaching the end of the barrier dune at a point 6.5 kms from the boardwalk without have seen another person.  This was good, in that it meant no hassles with wandering textiles.  It was also unfortunate, in that all those kms of white sand beach were being severely underutilized.  There should have been hundreds of naturists on the beach.  There is ample room for thousands.  Yet there I was, alone except for the seabirds, some seals at the very end of the dune and, oh yeah, the medusids being slopped ashore by the surf.  It is a good year for medusids and therefore a poor season for swimming right now.  But the jellyfish will be gone by August so its no big deal.

I turned about and headed back up the beach to regain my backpack – there was still no sign of other naturists, or of textiles this far down the beach.  Since I was still not inclined to simply loll about on the sand I paused to build a sangar and a stockade where there was ample driftwood and a supply of lobster buoys close to hand.  It seemed the least I could do.  This summer’s weather having been, so far at least, particularly suckworthy there hadn’t been many built this year.  This accomplished, I trekked northward again. 

In the distance I could see that the textile beach was enjoying much more business than it had when I had arrived.  It wasn’t crowded but there were now some dozens of people there.  When I reached the magic line in the sand – the Pudenda Line, the line at which distance people without binoculars might conceivably be able to tell if one is naked – I paused to step into a pair of shorts. 

Farther up the beach, quite near the lifeguard station, I reached the first of the textiles.  These people are serious consumers of fabric.  Here it was, a nice day at the beach – a day on which the clothen had chosen to go to the beach – and very few of them had any skin in the game.  Only a few children and a couple of women were actually wearing swimsuits.  The rest were swaddled in combinations of track suits, hoodies and knee-length shorts or, in several cases, parkas!  I swear to God there were people – male and female, young and old – wearing parkas on the beach.  It made me feel cold just to look at these goofballs.  There were two attractive young women wearing bikinis and working on their tans.  Beside them sat their boyfriends huddled in fleece pants and hoodies – hoods up – shivering as though they were actually cold.  Odd, the women seemed comfortable enough.

Maybe that is one of the problems of attracting young people to naturism these days – the young men are a bunch of wussies!

Lady Godiva Day

July 10th is Lady Godiva Day.  In my opinion it should be a public holiday, but it isn’t.  As second best, it should be celebrated by all naturists / nudists and other civil libertarians.  I have included the day in my blog post about the “Naturist Calendar.”  Let me explain why.

Lady Godiva was an actual historical person who, according to legend, on July 10th in the year 1040, rode naked through the streets of Coventry, England in order to convince her husband to abolish abusive taxes he had levied.  Historians argue whether this is fact, an embellishment of a somewhat different event or a complete fiction.  Well of course historians argue about it, historians argue about everything.  Each has a theory and is willing to expound it while denigrating any competing theories.  However, they all agree that Lady Godiva (“Godgyfu” was the original Anglo-Saxon form of the name) was a real person, the wife of Leofric, Earl of Mercia.

All social and political movements need heroes and icons.  Who would be better as a heroine and icon for naturism than Lady Godiva?  Who indeed?  Lady Godiva is the very image of non-sexualized public nudity.  Competing versions of the Godiva legend say that the Lady herself asked the people of Coventry not to violate her modesty or that the officials of the town ordered all of the people to be indoors with their doors and shutters fastened.  But both versions, and others, are mere speculation.  No one knows the actual circumstances of Lady Godiva’s ride.

The legend also tells that the sole person to violate Lady Godiva’s modesty was a nasty little chap named Tom, the original “Peeping Tom,” who was struck blind in divine retribution.  I like this little detail.  I like it a lot.  Whether it is true is entirely beside the point;  it reflects the opinion of the people of the era in which it was written.  That is: (1) Lady Godiva’s public nudity was innocent, was done for the public good and was inoffensive to God,  (2) Peeping Tom represents the minority of one who took prurient interest in her nudity and  (3) God struck Tom blind in divine retribution.  This is a perfect example of the Garter motto in action:  "Honi soit qui mal y pense" or "shame on him who thinks evil of it."   Indeed!  Shame on any person who automatically connects innocent nudity with prurience. 

As far as I am concerned the story of Lady Godiva and Peeping Tom records what was beyond doubt public opinion at the time: that innocent public nudity was neither a civil nor a religious crime and that God’s approval of innocent public nudity went so far as to punish prurience.  At least that is the way I see it.

I consider that Lady Godiva’s ride qualifies her to be the Patron Saint of Naturism, and that her Saint’s Day, July 10, should be suitably celebrated by naturists everywhere.  No, you don’t have to be a Catholic, or a Christian, or even a religious person of any variety to see it this way.  When I speak of “saints” I do not refer to religious figures with supernatural powers.  I speak of real human beings who stand up for or who exemplify principles that should be important to civil society.  For Lady Godiva the issue was unfair taxation.  For us, the principle issue is whether public nudity should be accepted for what it is, an innocent wardrobe choice, rather than for what latter day morality zealots – the Peeping Toms of our times – claim it to be, immoral.  To that sorry latter group I say “Honi soit qui mal y pense.”