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All – Thanks for reading the occasional blog pieces and for supporting the journey by your presence here.

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That First Time


A view from Little Beach, Maui

I am alone.

6,000 miles from home.

A tropical island.

I had my first socially nude experience about as far away as I could get from people who knew me. I was alone on Little Beach on Maui, surrounded by people much more comfortable about the situation than I. I had been anxious, at once with anticipation, but also concerned that someone I know might see me.

Stop. Right. There.

If you’re on a nude beach and you see someone you know, you are among kindred spirits. It is quite likely that they didn’t just stumble over a ginormous lava flow and have their clothes blow off themselves in a gust of wind. So, if they see you, you are also seeing them. Enjoy the fact that you know someone who is a nudist.

But, that was not remotely where my mind was that day.

For me, it was a momentous occasion. A childhood of sneaking around and finding time alone at the house. Of being embarassed because I wasn’t aware that there was a whole community of people out there like me. Of assuming I was weird or odd or worse.

We’re all weird, I can say now, of course. In our own way, that is. We all have something about us that someone isn’t going to like. Or that someone will ridicule. Or lord over your head before you’re ready to share that part of yourself.

So, there I was. Looking around. The Pacific Ocean. The perfect weather. The warm breeze. The SPF 50 slathered all over me. Just have to drop trou and take the shirt off. Any moment now.

Other people were just so casual. So at ease with themselves, settling into their spot, and prepping so matter-of-factly. I was in an area where my standing there clothed made me the oddball. The one who was different from everyone around me. And so, with a deep breath of anticipation, I finally crossed that imaginary line that I’d been waiting years to step over. One small step for man. One giant leap for me.

And there I was. Settled on my blanket. Nose in a book.

Alone among my people.

6,000 miles away.

And free.

Winter Naturist: Cabin Fever

Here in Vermont, we expect to close out the weekend with a foot of snow. Spring begins in three weeks. Typically, though, warmth begins in two-to-three months, so it’s around now that we get itchy to get outside. To at least shed our heaviest coats and dream of when the biting cold gives way to warm breezes swirling about us in late spring and summer.

It’s around now when we remember trips of years past. Little Beach and various waterfalls and private lagoons on Maui; Pirate’s Cove in California; hikes along the east coast; a naturist B&B in Florida; and of course our beloved local swimming holes here in Vermont.

Have a look:


Little Beach, Maui, on a Sunday evening, when exclusive naturism gives way to drumming.


Pirate’s Cove, California


Marrero’s Guest Mansion, Key West


The iconic tree at Ledges, Vermont



Brief VT Legislative Update

As of today, February 21, there is no anti-nudity bill presented in the Vermont legislature as there was during the last session. That bill did not make it past a first reading, so maybe it dissuaded the gentlemen who sponsored it from trying again. It would have made practicing nudism in Vermont, a local tradition in many watering holes, a criminal activity.

Thankfully, it seems they have bigger fish to fry.

My Body, My Choice?

So quickly, it has come to my attention that I’m a disappointment to some of my fellow nudists. By defending those who choose anonymity, I’ve been told that makes me suspect. By not posting photos of myself, I have dug just one more hole.

But, what end does a butt serve? Sure, I might never gain the popularity or notoriety of other nudist bloggers, but that wasn’t my intention for this website anyway. Indeed, the blog was (and is) to be occasional, while the information for those who might pass through Vermont is the reason this site exists.

I get it. As a younger nudist with no nudist role models, I certainly enjoyed seeing the “photos of freedom” on Clothesfree dot com, because it showed me I wasn’t alone and that there was normalcy in the practice of social nudity. But many of those photos were tucked behind anonymity on a website that gathered content, some of it from the other side of the planet, rather than merely posting photos of people from their California hub. Those photographed chose to have their picture taken and presumably were cool with those photos being shared. More power to them.

I’ve been photographed, too, but choose not to share them online. Not now, anyway. I do this, not to arouse suspicion in fellow nudists, but to protect myself in a country that is suspicious of us to the point of making us societal pariahs. It’s easy for some to tell me to throw caution to the wind, always easy for others to tell someone what to do. But what is nudism if it requires a lockstep approach rather than capturing the ethos of bodily autonomy? If we are to be the welcoming community we claim to be, do we not owe it to people to live within nudism on their own terms, within their comfort zone?

Resorts and their photo policies get it. People on the beach who request permission get it.  And not publishing photos of myself is my choice at this time. It makes me no less a nudist, no less thoughful about our place in this world.

So, let’s keep this movement going forward rather than placing litmus tests on what makes one an authentic nudist. Out and open nudists are nudists. Closeted nudists are nudists. Anonymous nudists are nudists. We are one and the same, choosing our limits, and embracing our bodily autonomy.

Let’s celebrate that rather than tearing down our own.