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Published by Dale Lund
A minister's sheltered 17-year-old son's true adventures of sneaking into a nudist camp.
A minister's sheltered 17-year-old son's true adventures of sneaking into a nudist camp.

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Published by: Dale Lund on Aug 17, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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Imagine you moved into a large house and were told that you have free run of the whole place--except for the room on the left at the top of the stairs. That door would be alwayslocked. What room would then occupy your thoughts more than any other?I was seventeen. It was 1966. We had moved to Sultan, Washington the previoussummer, my Dad, a minister, being assigned to that parish. I heard rumors that there wasa nudist camp near Sultan, but I didn't yet know where. Then came an article in the"Everett Herald" about nudism. It mentioned the Lake Associates nudist camp on theSultan Basin Road, and also Fraternity Snoqualmie, a large nudist camp "four miles southof Issaquah." That's all I knew, but it was enough. I had never been to Issaquah, a town43 miles south of Sultan, on Highway 90. I would find it.I told my parents I was going camping for the weekend, loaded up my bicycle saddlebagswith camping gear, and pedaled off. I rode my bike out of Sultan, then ditched it and thesupplies deep in the underbrush, out of sight, and walked out to the shoulder of thehighway and, carrying only a coat, stuck out my thumb.Fortunately I've always looked younger than my age, and it's not difficult for a boy tohitch rides. It was Friday evening, though, when I was dropped off in Issaquah--too lateto try to find Fraternity Snoqualmie--but I walked around the town until finding that onlyone main highway headed south, and so assumed that was to be my route the nextmorning. Night came on. I went into the entranceway of the Issaquah High School and lay downon the concrete porch, with only my coat for warmth. Although it was summer, thenights were cool, but it was the hard concrete that finally got to me. With all my jointsaching, I got up sometime in the night and went looking for a better place to sleep. Icame upon a parsonage, and being a preacher's kid and knowing about a minister'skindness and charity, if I were caught, I stepped into the back yard and lay on the lawn.The hard ground was a lot softer than the concrete, and I slept.At dawn I was wet with dew, and cold. Before the parsonage household woke up, I waseating a cheap breakfast purchased at a local market. And dried out by the morning sunand with a full stomach, I hitchhiked south out of town.I couldn't very well tell the driver who picked me up to take me to the nearest nudistcamp, nor was I even sure it was the right way. I just said that I was going to a friend'shouse a few miles down the highway, and then stared at the roadside to see any sign of Fraternity Snoqualmie. To my excited delight, there it was, right out there in plain view--a sign on the left of the highway with the camp's name on it, next to a long drivewaygoing up the hill. Not wanting to be obvious, I waited about a half-mile farther beforesaying, "Here it is. Here's his house. Thank you." He dropped me off, and I acted like Iwas walking to a house. When he drove out of sight, I came back out to the highway and
walked north to the road leading to what was described as the largest nudist camp in the Northwest.It turned out to be a long, long driveway--quite a hike on foot. I stepped quietly in order to hear any approaching car, and when hearing one, I quickly slipped into the underbrushand hid as it went by, peering out and imagining that soon that family in the car will all benaked. It seemed unreal--too good to be true. Further up, I came to a stretch in the roadthat had a cliff on one side and a dirt wall on the other, and dreaded anyone coming then.To my horror, I heard footsteps! A man was walking down the road and coming towardme, around the bend still out of sight. I had nowhere to go. I hated the thought of running back down the hill, and besides, he was now too close to avoid. He would seeme running down the hill when he rounded the bend. There was only a small, scraggly bush growing out of the dirt wall, and I hid behind it hopelessly. Not only could someonesee me through the bush, but when even with me I wouldn't even be behind it, but besideit, in plain view. I hid as best I could, and stayed perfectly still. Miraculously, the manwalked by focusing on the road several feet in front of him, and never saw me! As Icontinued my hike, I wondered why a man was walking down that road anyway. Perhapshe had sneaked in, like me, and was leaving. Or perhaps he was hiking and would haveenjoyed throwing a trespasser off the cliff.Eventually I could hear people. Adults and children were both laughing and shouting,and it sounded like many of them. The road took a turn to the left and I glimpsed agatehouse and jumped back, then left the road and made my way through the woods.Western Washington State woods are full of heavy underbrush, which is wonderful for someone trying not to be seen. But for some reason, when I sneak, I get a nervousstomach; and often when I get a nervous stomach, I have to poop. It came on strong, andthere was nothing I could do about it but squat down and go. No toilet paper. I pickedlarge leaves from a tree and did my best to wipe. The leaves were thin. It was not a goodexperience.I continued through the woods, following the sounds of the people, and finally came tothe open grounds of Fraternity Snoqualmie. There was a broken-down school bus at theedge of the clearing, with no one in the immediate vicinity, and behind this bus I took off all my clothes except for my shoes and hid my clothes beneath a big board. I then, for the first time in my life, walked out into the view of men, women and children, stark naked.As I walked down a driveway toward the crowds, I saw a woman coming toward me,walking up the same driveway. Moments later, I passed the first nude woman I'd ever really seen. She was probably in her forties, slightly heavy-set, but not unattractive. Her  breasts swayed gracefully as she walked. She ignored me as though passing me on a citysidewalk, but I ogled her as much as I subtly could, and suddenly a problem arose. Iknew by then, somehow, that an erection is not quite proper in a nudist camp, and washorrified to see a man now walking up the driveway. Suddenly I had a great idea. Nudists sunbathe! I could pretend I was sunbathing. So I scurried over and lay bellydown on the grass beside the driveway, with my cheek resting on my hands and my eyes
watching the man. As he passed by, he gave me an odd look. Later I figured out why: Never having been nude in the sun before, I was almost sickeningly white, except for myhands and face (I even wore long-sleeve shirts as a rule), and on my feet I wore, not onlyshoes, but black leather dress shoes, the ones I wore to church! And to top it off, leavesdo not toilet paper make. It was in a restroom there, that I discovered I had poop smearedon my butt. That man was very kind only to give me an odd look. Oh, yes, one morething: They have an area for sunbathing. I was lying in the parking lot.When my problem went down, I got up and walked closer to the crowds, only to have the problem arise again. This time I just sat on the ground and blocked the problem with mylegs. I was near the restroom then. Naked men and woman and children were going inand out, and during a pause in people I slipped into the restroom and into a stall to rest(and use real toilet paper). Some wet paper towels later, I walked out into virtual publicin only my shoes. (I've heard many people have nightmares about being suddenly nakedin public. Curiously, I've had these dreams, too, but they have always been gooddreams.)As it turned out, this was the weekend of Fraternity Snoqualmie's annual Seafair celebration, and the park was packed! There were hundreds of people there--naked people! In less than twenty minutes I overcame my problem, and I began to meander through the many visitors--a very white boy with tan hands and face, wearing black dressshoes, trying to fit in.And somehow I did. It was as if I were invisible. I sat around among the people, waitedin line at the snack bar, having returned to my clothes to get some money from my pants pocket, and no one even spoke to me.I remembered how traumatic it was the first time I had to undress in front of others. OnlyI had seen myself since puberty, and I thought I looked funny. People would surely laughif they saw me, right? Then came P.E. in junior high, and I was required to shower after class with two dozen other boys. This was a dreadful experience for a sheltered, preacher's kid. Other boys seemed to take it in stride, laughing and joking and talkingabout teachers and school and sports and TV shows. Of course they looked okay. Ilooked funny. But then no one laughed at me. Most of them were circumcised, manyweren't, it was just one or the other, no big deal. Some had smaller genitals than I, somelarger. There were varying degrees and areas of tan, some different colors of skin. A lotof boys were fatter than I and jiggled when they walked. Some were really skinny.Really, I didn't look that funny after all. And pretty soon I, too, was laughing and jokingand talking about teachers and school and sports and TV shows. Taking showers inschool became easy for me, although having other boys snap me with towels was hard toget used to. Now I was having some of those old feelings. Maybe women would laugh at me, maybechildren would. For sure, this time, I did look funny, with my odd tan and dress shoes.But no one laughed. I was as accepted as anyone.

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