A DAY AT SEQUOIANS

A Clothes-Free Club

I’m not exactly sure how this idea came to me but I believe it started when I was reading about the “free body culture” of Germany in the late 19th and early 20th centuries; I know, how derivative of me. This led to a little rabbit hole of naturism movements and nudist retreats. Eventually I found there are actually a few nudist clubs in my area and figured a trip would make for an interesting blog post. I guess we shall see…

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Despite having this idea for quite a few months, I kept putting it off out of scheduling issues, weather concerns, and a minor case of cowardly procrastination. However, as with many activities I do, I knew it would bug me if I never completed the task I had given myself.

So on Sunday, August 3rd, 2025, despite my ever-present apprehension and knowledge that a heat wave was coming in a week, offering perfect nude weather, I made up my mind. I packed a bag, picked out my outfit (tough choice), and embarked on my nudist journey. After dilly dallying all morning, with three stops for a sandwich, a canned espresso, and a tall boy, I eventually made my way up Cull Canyon Road and arrived at my destination.

Besides a general sense of adventure, I also had a little list of goals and reasons for this trip. First, I wanted to see a niche community in my local area; something oddball that is right under everyone’s nose. Second, I wanted to try every activity the club had to offer and get as much of the “full experience” as possible. And lastly, I wanted to challenge myself. Besides the occasional skinny dip on a special (often drunk) occasion, I haven’t been naked in a public setting for an extended period of time very often, if at all (despite what my mother used to yell when I walked to the bathroom in my underwear: “Naked boy!”). I knew it would be uncomfortable and that is exactly why I wanted to do it.

ARRIVAL

Upon parking, I went to check-in at the front desk and immediately walked the wrong direction straight into the club-member area. Now, I had done my fair share of research reading the club website, and had done my own conjecturing of what to expect; I had a strong hunch that most people there would be elderly, mostly men, and also very friendly. I’ll get to the latter aspect later, but I was immediately met by the former, with a group of naked elders playing bocce ball in the distance and more watching a Premier League game on the tele in the clubhouse. After asking one of these soccer fans for directions, I made my way back to the front desk and formally checked in.

Being a first-time visitor, I had to fill out an intake form and pay a $29 day fee. On a logistical tangent, Sequoians was founded in 1947, and is not a resort nor a retreat but rather a clothes-free “membership-club”. Therefore, the club offers various tiers: non-members get about three visits during the open season (April - October) on weekends and holidays until they have to become a member; associate members can come more frequent while paying a discounted day fee, but still only during the open season on weekends and holidays; full members have 24/7/365 access to the club and voting rights for club decisions. There are also seven residents that live full-time on club property, the max allowed by the local government. Further, there are options for tent and RV camping, and discounts if you’re an AANR (American Association for Nudist Recreation) member.

After checking in, I met my tour guide, who was the guy watching soccer that gave me directions to the front office, and went to my car to change into the local outfit. A middle-aged man whose wife was also a member, my guide walked me through the main communal spaces pointing out the clubhouse, barbecue, bocce ball court, pool/hot tub, bathrooms, showers, trailheads, residential sites, and such. Walking back to my car, I joked about how I expected everyone to be very friendly considering how ridiculous it would be to get mad and argue with someone when you’re nude, and he titled an idea I had been tossing around in my head for the weeks leading up to that day: “shared vulnerability”. If everyone is baring it all with nothing to hide, then everyone takes part in the same experience and nobody is more or less vulnerable than anyone else; the only thing to really do is just be.

TRAIL RUN

With my tour completed, I set off for my first nudist task of the day: a trail run. Now I’ve been absolutely fried to a lobster-finish a couple times this summer so I knew I definitely need not skimp on the sunscreen. While applying a liberal amount, a couple new visitors, like myself, walked over to see if I wanted to join them on their hike. While I respectfully declined their offer, as I had plans for a solo jog on a different trail, it was nonetheless a kind and instant display of the friendliness I would encounter all day.

Thoroughly covered in a thick layer of sunscreen, making me resemble a poor Halloween ghost costume, I went back to the front desk to ask the receptionist if she could spray my backside. She obliged me while lightly teasing me for even needing sunscreen; “Isn’t your last name Velasquez?!?” To which I replied, “Yes, and I’m the whitest Velasquez you’ll ever meet; the Welsh side picked my skin tone.”

She also showed concern for my hike, given the mid-day timing and that I had no water with me. Covered head-to-toe and front-to-back in sunscreen, I assured her my greatest danger was getting a bad sunburn, and set out for the “Ridge Trail”. Since it briefly goes off the club property boundaries, I brought a microfiber towel in a fanny pack in case I needed to cover up, which I luckily never needed.

In my typical fashion, I picked this trail because it was considered the most difficult trail on the property; while it is only just over a mile, it covers a solid elevation gain and part of the trail was under construction.

So after a few minutes walking straight up a steep grade, I immediately ran into a 20-30 foot section that was solidly overgrown with dense, dry, rough shrubbery. Walking over, under, and around the bushes, trying my hardest not to get scraped or cut, I eventually ended up on all fours crawling on the dirt under a particularly rough patch. It’s moments like these, buck naked on the ground in the mid-day heat covered in dirt, twigs, and leaves, that make me stop and wonder for a brief moment, “What the f*ck am I doing?” However, I was soon through and discovered the trail immediately became nonexistent, stymieing any thoughts of self-reflection or life-choice analysis. I stumbled around for a few minutes until I rediscovered the trail, crossed a cattle gate, and started properly jogging along the trail.

Here, at the top of the ridge, I was first able to actually appreciate the whole “naked in nature” thing. Located just south of the Las Trampas Preserve, Sequoians is situated in a largely untouched pocket of the Bay; the view of the hills was quite beautiful and could temporarily make me forget I was surrounded by urban sprawl. There’s also just a certain simplicity in such a basic human activity as running naked through the hills.

Further, I’ve hit a bit of a rut in my jogging “career” due to some bodily issues, resulting in a few months where I have not been able to run even a mile without debilitating pain. However, and I’m not sure if it was due to the adrenaline of the situation, a coincidentally good day for my body, or some sort of spiritual alignment with nature, but I felt positively phenomenal on that run.

Luckily, someone conveniently left a pair of clothes so I could take this picture… that’s the smile of a man that is greatly out of cardio-vascular-shape

Eventually I made my way down the ridge, almost losing control of my speed and eating it multiple times (that would have really, really sucked). Arriving back at the communal area I was out of breath, covered in sunscreen and debris, and sweaty (not really a problem when you’re naked), but I felt great. Not to disparage the rest of my visit, but that was my favorite activity I did the whole day. And probably one of the best runs I’ve ever been on; perhaps because of the novelty, the challenge, or simply because I could do it after months of not running. My only regret was not exploring all of the trails they had to offer.

AQUATICS

I made my way back to the front office to let the receptionist know I was still alive and grabbed my towel to go rinse the dirt and twigs off. Now, most communal showers are separated by gender and/or stall dividers. This one however, was simply two showerheads, half-outdoor, off the side of the bathroom building, with no divider between the two; which actually makes a lot of sense. What am I going to see? Someone naked?

Cleansed of dirt, yet somehow still slathered in sunscreen, I went to use the quite populated swimming area. I hopped in the pool and proceeded to chat with a handful of other members in the water or lounging poolside.

Unsurprisingly the patrons were all relatively normal people; they had jobs or were retired after years of working, lived in the area, had families and hobbies, and just enjoyed spending some time naked when they could. Now of course, it is statistically abnormal to be a social nudist in our society; nonetheless, they were all just people you would meet at the grocery store or local café, no more or less weird than anybody else.

Among discussions of work, retirement, and trips to the Caribbean, the topic of nudism naturally came up. In this talk I learned there are a few other well-known nudist resorts in the area but they are mostly backed by “big money” and like to nickel-and-dime their patrons for each little activity, as opposed to Sequoians which is simply a flat day-use fee. While there may have been some bias involved, one guy said Laguna Del Sol, a large nudist resort near Sacramento, is known to be quite “cliquey” and not nearly as inviting as Sequoians. While I have no evidence to refute nor support his claim, I am apt to believe him given the overall friendly nature of my stay that day.

One of the more interesting aspects of our talk was when the couple laying poolside chimed in. Us in the pool had been discussing San Gregorio Beach on the Peninsula, a known nudist beach, when the couple said they actually met there. It was warmly surprising that two people from the nudist community could coincidentally meet at a nude beach and went to show the utility of communal meet-up spaces for varying interests.

Finding my way out of this conversation, I walked over to the hot tub to further dehydrate myself in the sun. Accompanying me was a middle aged man with a hat on from a local pizza parlor. Upon inquiring, that was his bocce team’s sponsor and they had just put on a dominant display on the court, skunking their opponent 5-0. We had a short conversation joking about how the bocce league is very popular at Sequoians and how his team’s picture is not displayed at their patron sponsor’s establishment.

Thoroughly boiled, I went to find a place to dry off, laying a towel on a poolside lounge chair (one of the main rules is that you must sit on a towel everywhere you go). Now, in case you didn’t know, you were actually born with a built-in bathing suit; it’s custom tailored, never has to be thrown in the washing machine, is always with you, and dries off in about 5 minutes just from the air. Promptly rid of water, I put my shoes back on and walked to my car to grab a few things for lunch; while doing so, the receptionist beckoned me to stop by for a chat.

LUNCH

Eating my sandwich in the front office, we were promptly interrupted by a couple checking in and an associate member inquiring about RV spots; the latter of which I noticed was donning a Raiders hoody. I commented on his jacket and we had a short discussion of the team and it’s questionable recent managerial choices, specifically their move to Las Vegas; in response to this, he said he was actually becoming more of a 49ers fan and moving away from his Oakland Raiders’ roots. Thoroughly disgusted by such a treasonous, bandwagoning, disloyal, die-easy, traitor of a fan, I was able to continue my discussion with the receptionist.

Throughout the day I stopped by the front office a handful of times for various reasons, all of which resulted in short chats with the receptionist. Despite the website informing new visitors that the front desk attendee will most likely be nude (and not bothered by your clothed presence), this woman was fully clothed and actually not a nudist at all; she was just looking for employment and ended up the receptionist for a bunch of nudists.

In our talk, she told me that the first few weeks were a bit awkward for her, as I assume social nudity was not a common occurrence in her life previously, but she has since grown accustomed to it. She pointed out how nice everyone has been and even went so far as to say they feel a bit like family, where everyone has their quirks but are all supportive and kind; she then promptly said, “Oh God, I’m making it sound like a cult,” to which we both had a good chuckle.

Beyond my questions about her place in the community, and besides being impressed at my ability to run the Ridge Trail, and the pace at which I accomplished it (I think anyone that isn’t over 50 years old would have impressed her), she ultimately called me in to comment on my latissimus dorsi muscles. For context, when she had sprayed sunscreen on my backside, she had instinctively used a hand to rub it in to my back; which I promptly responded to by informing her that was not necessary and a simple spray was sufficient. Regardless, I appreciated the compliment and was glad all those pull-ups have more of an affect than just keeping my insanity at bay. This was the first of two comments I would get in regards to my physical body, the second of which I will touch on shortly.

BOCCE & BEER

After finishing my sandwich and taking my leave of the front office, I went to see if I could join in some pickup bocce. Armed with an 805 tallboy and a towel, I walked over to the middle-aged guys, and one woman, lounging around the court, sipping beer, and awkwardly inserted myself in their conversation (you know how awkward it is standing around a conversation circle at a party and trying to join? Now imagine doing that completely naked…) to see if anyone would fancy a game.

As was the usual for the day, they were rather welcoming and we had a game going in short order. Now, besides my abysmal performance (I had one, maybe two good rolls), it was basically just hanging out (metaphorically and literally) with your standard G.I. old men; they were sipping beers, lounging about, rehashing opinions about rock bands from 50 years ago, and talking trash; and so was I: “It’s your turn. Let’s get rolling before my clothes go out of style!”

During the game, I got my second physical comment: One gentleman asked if I ever work out, to which I said, “No, it’s all just beer and steroids.”; we had a laugh and decided “Beer and Steroids” would make for a good song title. On the topic of music, I noticed one guy had a Van Halen necklace on so I asked him which was his favorite album. Much to my surprise he said Fair Warning and, I believe, Diver Down. Personally, I felt obligated to vouch for Women and Children First (what a phenomenal and insane album).

Sidenote: Bocce is such an old person’s game. You only actually play about 1/4 of the time, if that, and your play consists of rolling a ball. However, I would say a game that consists of sitting in the sun and drinking beer 75% of the time is just about perfect for a relaxing nude day; no complaints here.

LOUNGING

After getting wrecked in a game that had absolutely nothing to do with all the pull-ups I’ve been doing for years, I made my way back to the pool for some writing. I had done the main things on my to-do list and the day was slowly drawing to a close, giving me enough naked time to fulfill the challenge I had given myself; so I went to write a letter to a friend that I had been meaning to pen.

During such, a fellow non-member struck up a conversation with me; one of the few visitors who wasn’t past middle age, he had stopped by to watch the bocce earlier. We had the normal small talk about where you’re from, what you do for work, what brings you to strip naked for the day around complete strangers, what your hobbies are, and how easily you burn. Honestly it was interesting to meet someone of a similar age that had an interest in going to a nudist club. While he was more interested in evening out his tan than running around the hills and drinking beer for a blog post, he showed how the nudist impetus is not just an elderly motion. I’m sure there are plenty of folk in their 20’s and 30’s who would love to have a place they can spend the day naked, lounging in the sun, swimming, meeting people, and not dealing with the confines of urban life; however, elder folk are the ones with the time, money, and means to pursue such a life.

In this time, I finished my letter, took another swim in the pool and soak in the hot tub, and had a quick half-nap while I was drying off. Saying farewell to my compadre in youthful nudism by exchanging Instagram information, I was off to take one final walk.

STROLL & EXIT

Now, remember back when I was eating my sandwich at the front office and a couple came to check-in? Well, when I was talking to my new friend at the pool before this walk, if I looked just 15 degrees to the right, that couple was across the pool in my sight. During my conversation, I noticed the male in the couple had what would colloquially be called a ‘half'-chub’ or perhaps a ‘semi’; it wasn’t at 90° nor 0°, but about 45°. Now, this in itself I could not have cared less about; everything I had read online, including the Sequoians website, said that any sort of nether region excitement was a natural bodily function and nothing to shame someone about; further, I’ve seen much more wild stuff just walking around San Francisco. However, those same websites also said that should such an event occur, you’re supposed to cover yourself with a towel or turn onto your stomach. Given the fact I can write this portion of the story from a memory that has been singed into my brain, it is safe to say he did not follow the protocol.

So why am I bringing this up? Well on this final walk of mine (which was a nice little light stroll through the woods and creek ravine on the property), I ran into this couple again. I was coming up around an incline corner and they were sitting on a bench, with the woman on the man’s lap, being rather ‘cutesy’ with each other, though not sexually explicit from what I could tell. I was a bit surprised and said I was just trying to walk the trail, to which the guy said to not mind them, so I briskly walked by and went on my way.

I bring all this up because, Frankly, I Shirley don’t know what to make of it or how to feel about it. On the one hand I was a bit taken aback; as far as I could tell, and from my personal experience, that kind of conduct was not what nudism is all about. Obviously, love and romance are a universal concept that is experienced by all different people; but in a nudist setting like Sequoians, this seemed a bit too sexual and more like PDA than a couple enjoying the day in the nude. I mean, there were a few other couples, like the one I quickly talked to about San Gregorio beach, that had no issue keeping their day devoid of any such situation.

On the other hand, can I blame a ‘younger’ couple (relative to the average visitor that day) to have a bit of a romantic spark during their naked day together? Would I have been in the same situation had I a romantic partner to share my day with? They did find a spot away from the main area to do whatever they were doing. However, it wasn’t really that far away if I stumbled across them on a short stroll. But is a bit of cuddling and Eskimo-kissing really much to get riled up over? We’re all adults and can handle some adult life.

Lastly, in the club’s defense, these were second-time visitors, as I learned earlier, so I assume this kind of conduct is not common, especially with the members. Perhaps their idea of a nudist day was different than the average visitor and they needed time to get the club’s vibe; or perhaps this was completely acceptable behavior and I was the prude. I’m not sure, but it was part of my experience that day so I just wrote about it.

Anyways, I made my way down the trail and past the permanent residence area. Varying from well-worn trailer homes to quaint little homes, these havens for committed nudists are situated just a few hundred feet from the main area. While walking past, an elderly man joined me and walked with me for a bit of a chat. He was a member and permanent resident and also handled much of the groundskeeping for the club.

While I don’t remember much of the specifics of our talk, the overall message was that there is a lot of work required to maintain a rather self-sustaining club; from financials to events to marketing to water supply, there is more to do as a member than simply lounge by the pool and even out your tan.

He also explained that the reason new visitors only have a certain amount of visits allowed per year is because they have to maintain their “not for profit” status as an organization. This entails a certain ratio of revenue from members to revenue from non-members; if they have too much revenue from non-members, the member dues go up.

After I told him about the overgrown section of trail I had bushwhacked through and told him I still quite enjoyed their trails overall, I left our conversation for one last lounge by the pool and short journaling session.

Once I had jotted down a quick page, and with most of my to-do’s done and challenges met, I felt ready to leave. I had spent about the last seven hours completely naked, save for a pair of shoes. I had gone on a trail-run, swam, played bocce, drank beer, written a letter, taken a nap, and tried my darndest to put the “social” in “social nudity”. Satisfied with my work, and feeling the itch of “real world to-do’s”, I made my way back to my car and clothes.

On my way out, the bocce player with the Van Halen necklace was parked in his car by the exit. As I walked by he said it was nice to meet, fun to play some bocce, he hoped to see me again, and farewell. While I don’t have plans to visit again in the near future, it was a very nice sentiment and a fitting last interaction for such a friendly place.

CONCLUSION

Alright, time for some general comments on the club itself; I think it was quite nice and well maintained. The recreation areas were clean and easy to use and everyone was real friendly. Everything had a good balance of formal yet relaxed without seeming unprofessional nor too corporate and stiff. The accommodations provided were all clean and enough for a comfortable day on the property. The location is also a big plus with it being in a rather secluded valley and finds a middle ground between “out in the woods“ and not too far from civilization nor too uncivilized. During my stay I saw some deer and turkeys right by the communal area which added to the natural feel of the experience (my tour guide also said they have had some wild hogs tear things up in the past). There was also minimal cell service which I quite liked; it allowed me to more fully disconnect from the “real world” and simply focus on enjoying the moment. I mean, what’s the point of getting naked in nature amongst strangers if you’re just going to sit on your phone like you’re back in the work bathroom? Overall, the club lived up to my expectations and perhaps exceeded them in a few areas.

With that said, I do think there is still room to improve in a few aspects. During my tour, my guide suggested some improvements he had proposed to the board, which I agree should be pursued: a sauna, outdoor gym area, and red light therapy station. He said his goal was to take the club in a more “wellness and health” oriented direction, which I think would be greatly beneficial. I was honestly expecting a sauna since it seems like a no-brainer at a nudist club; saunas are already one of the few areas in normal life where nudity is widely accepted. Further, I would have been stoked to do some nude lifting, and further earn my bocce beers, had they offered the opportunity.

In my talk with him, I also suggested a pickleball court. They had a basketball court, which I didn't use for lack of a basketball (although it would have been fun to ball out…), but it was quite run-down and not nearly as well maintained as the rest of the facility. I think, with some TLC, they could have a solid pickleball area which, while it would definitely cater to their predominantly elder demographic, all ages could enjoy.

Now, I would be remiss to not include my personal thoughts on nudity in general. First, I quite enjoyed it; perhaps because I’m a weirdo or have a proclivity to “naturism” in general (this did all start with random reading on the internet, fueled by my own curiosity), but it was just a fun day. It was rather nerve-racking at times, and I’m not sure I ever got fully comfortable with it, but that’s part of the fun; pushing my own comfort boundaries and forcing myself into situations I can only accept and embrace.

And yes, I saw plenty of genitals and breasts and butts; and yes, I’m sure plenty of people saw my genitals and body and butt; but who cares? We were all adults, we’ve all seen naked people before, we all chose to come to a nudist club, and we all could handle the reality of it; isn’t this how God made us? And as for the two comments I got on my body, they were comments I could get at a normal public pool or just living my life in clothes; I don’t find anything weird or uncomfortable about noticing someone else’s body; same as noticing someone is tall or has long hair or has a lot of tattoos or is wearing a rubber boot for a hat.

Something I did ponder for awhile, and talked a bit with the receptionist about, is the average age of members and lack of younger visitors. I couldn’t help but ask her about the future of the club; some of these members will be passing away in the next 10-20 years and who will replace them? Are they getting a solid intake rate? Or will the club slowly die out as members pass and club funding decreases? She was similarly concerned and noted their lack of marketing given their minimal online presence.

Further, I can’t help but ponder why younger people, around my age, don’t seem to be nearly as interested in, nor comfortable with, such nudist activities as previous generations once were; say during the turn of the century naturist movements, or 60’s and 70’s hippy movements, or even the 90’s movie trope of skinny dipping at the lake. Obviously, as I touched on earlier, there are the effects of our modern economy; many people my age simply can’t afford the time and money to pay for a nudist club membership, drive up in the hills, and spend a day or two doing nothing “productive” besides some hiking, swimming, and socializing. We all have bills to pay, projects to work on, social networks to maintain, and meager wages to fund it all. With an economy that is questionable at best, especially for my generation, the weekend lake-party trips and free time for recreational activities in general are not as common nor as feasible; you’re not going to push your boundaries, explore who you are and your relation to nudity, and find a deeper personal philosophy when you’re focused on just finding a job that keeps you alive.

Besides this, I think there is a deeper generational trend that explains the lack of these kinds of activities: the inextricable link between nudity and sexuality in our eyes. From what I have gathered, social nudism (specifically in America, Europe is doing their own thing) was much more common say 25, 50, or 100 years ago. People would skinny dip in the watering hole in their childhood, shower together after gym class (gymnasium comes from the Greek word “gymnos" which literally means “naked”; a gymnasium being “a place for naked exercise”), and go streak the quad with Snoop Dogg at Mitch-A-Palooza. Now, most people only get naked when they are changing, showering, or copulating; all in private. Social nudity is often only seen in the public eye from exhibitionists, or some other form of sexual deviance and kink oriented goals; either way focusing on deriving sexual pleasure of some kind. Further, with the widespread use of online pornography, my generation probably has a much more skewed vision of what nudity and sex are and how they are not always linked.

Yet, funnily enough, despite this sexualization of nudity, my generation is considered one of the most prudish generations; having less sex, watching less movies with sex scenes, and having more hesitancy in communally nude situations. Perhaps this can be shown, rather unacademically, a bit with the decline of the “one topless gal in every comedy movie” trope that was prevalent at a time when nudity seemed silly and fun; now, any clip where Sydney Sweeney takes half her shirt off or displays a sliver of cleavage is worthy of media outrage and a slew of online articles trying to find some taboo, tabloid stance on it.

Further, with the rise of the internet and social media, my generation probably has more body issues and privacy concerns. 50 years ago, the only naked people you saw were in movies, Playboy magazine, the porno theater, or in real life. Now, you can see millions of naked bodies on your phone in 20 minutes; or you can scroll through Instagram and see 100 swimsuit models with perfect bodies that are barely covered. What does this do to the average person’s mind who doesn’t have a chiseled Abercrombie & Fitch body? And most of these depictions of nudity are void of the goofiness of classic comedy movies, romance of older drama movies, or artistic beauty of vintage Playboy photoshoots; now they’re much more likely to be explicitly sexual in nature or just downright hardcore pornography. Conversely, three seconds of nudity paired with someone pulling their phone out and having poor morals can lead to millions of people seeing your nude body online. Back in the days of Playboy and porno theaters, your naked body was only seen by the people around you or if you were the one choosing to model in said adult content.

Sidenote: If you want a glaring example of this change, look up vintage Playboy photoshoots from their “Golden Era” of the late 60’s, 70’s, and early 80’s. While the images are obviously of beautiful, naked women, the pictures themselves are objectively artistic. There is soft, natural lighting, organic settings, photo composition, creative poses, and complex moods conveyed through the images; akin to classic portrayals of feminine beauty with a modern take. Then look up Playboy photoshoots from the modern era of the 90’s and beyond. The pictures seem flat and stale, the lighting is unnatural and harsh, the setting is often a plain studio backdrop or clearly staged, and the poses are more sexual, aimed at showing the women’s bodies as erotic objects placed directly in the middle of the viewer’s eye, as opposed to conveying an overall emotion of sensuality. Further, there are more instances of surgically altered bodies (not that I oppose a woman’s choice to do so) and polished, Photoshopped post-production editing; shifting the focus from exceptional natural beauty to overstimulating sexy images. The portrayal of nudity went from beautiful, erotic art to sexually explicit pornography. Not that I would know anything about Playboy pictures…

While I only lived about six months in the 20th century, I’ll venture to speculate that previous generations also had a mental link between nudity and sexuality. I doubt they were above such base human instinct; lust is universal. But perhaps they understood that the human body has an erotic element to it simply by its nature and that is just part of being a human? They showered naked after gym class and saw some boobs on the big screen and understood that the human body comes in all shapes and sizes, naturally has an erotic element to it, that erotic element can be transcended by the rational human mind, a human is more than just their physical appearance, nudity can be lighthearted, and a body is nothing to be ashamed of simply because it is not covered. Maybe not and I’m giving my predecessors more credit than they deserve, but there clearly seems to be a generational difference in nude culture and it didn’t come from nowhere.

Am I talking about any of this from a professional, academic, or expert viewpoint? Absolutely not. I’m just trying to posit explanations for what I experienced.

Now, while I was making my way back down Cull Canyon Road to the “real world”, Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd was playing on the stereo. One of my all-time absolute favorite songs, I couldn’t help but find the serendipity in it. Is this what Ronnie is singing about? I mean, for about $50 I had one of the simplest days of my life, running, drinking, eating, talking, swimming, and just existing; so simple that I didn’t even need clothing for seven hours of the day.

Perhaps I’m just reaching for a meaning that isn’t there, or a poignant ending to this post so I can seem smarter than I actually am, but when I was running up a hill, butt-ass naked, simply enjoying the sun and breeze and breath in my lungs, I couldn’t help but retrospectively agree:

All that you need is in your soul