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Naked & Afraid

Sometimes after too many miles, the most relaxing and freeing thing you can do is simply remove all of your clothes. As such, we try to visit the odd nudist resort here and there.

Squaw Mountain was founded back in 1933 as the first nudist resort west of the Mississippi. They still have the old black and white photos on the clubhouse wall showing the spry young people of the day swimming, playing badminton, and frolicking in the buff. Ninety odd years later, having undergone a name change, a biker gang phase, and the loss of most of the property to pay their back taxes, they solider on, sans garments.

When we arrived, a cheerful staffer met us at the office on her golf cart to get us checked in. The office doubles as a clothing store that stocks a respectable selection of women’s tie-die sundresses, peasant skirts, and other items popular with their demographic (along with a smaller men’s section that can be shopped without even moving your eyes left to right). Puns are popular in such places, and this shop was called Nudestrom’s. Lori picked up a few items off the rack and asked if there was a dressing room to try them on in. The woman gave her a quizzical look and said “um, nope.” Right, okay, that makes sense.

She then pointed out where the fitness room, clubhouse and game rooms were on the grounds and said if we wanted to go down to the lake to just follow this path. We quickly got camp set up and then grabbed our towels and some beers (exercise had been our intent, but how often can you drink beer naked on a lake? Not often enough) and headed down. The “lake” would be generously, very generously, described as a pond. It was more of a big puddle. Still, it was lovely and kind of quaint.

The whole place was very rustic and charming. It looked a little like the Shire in The Lord of the Rings. The focal center of the property is a crescent of cabins surrounding a small stage where they host their annual music festival a.k.a. “Nudestock.” Don’t say I didn’t warn you about the puns.

Our planned exercise never happened, but I did beat the pants off Lori in Bocce Ball.


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