arizonavichi:

San Diego Report
I took a trip out to San Diego and environs this weekend.
First off, I’m sure you are wondering what’s up with this picture. This is a large steel ball that sits at Blacks Beach. I think it’s an old anchor, but I am not sure. While I’ve been going to Blacks, it has at various time been painted in different colors. The first time I went, someone had helpfully painted “Blacks Beach” on it. Of course, the weekend I go and check it out, it is painted a boring solid white.
My first night, I stayed over at De Anza Springs, a place I haven’t been to in years. There have been some improvements. The restaurant, the Cactus Flower Cafe, has been renovated. When I last went, it wasn’t a dive but definitely showed some wear and tear. I ordered the “Ortega Burger,” which came with a roasted chili on it. Decent food.
I hung in the bar for a while, but most of the folks that were there were permanent residents: an older cliquish crowd. I talked to a couple of people at the bar, but felt like a bit of an intruder. I don’t think they meant any offense. In fact, two of them tried to help me out with my Wi-Fi.
By the way, the activities that night: bingo and karaoke. Ugh.
When I came years ago, there was a band and dancing. It was a special event though.
My biggest problem that night was how cold it got. I forgot that Spring, even in Southern California, means it gets cold at night. I was thinking “desert” like here in Arizona. I didn’t bring enough warm stuff. I spent an uncomfortable night in the car and decided I wouldn’t do a second.
The next day, I drove out to Blacks Beach. Well, I drove out after getting a jump from a staff member. Thank you, sir.
Here’s a warning about getting around La Jolla: every frickin’ street seems to be named “La Jolla” something or “Torrey Pines” something. La Jolla Shores Drive…Torrey Pines Road…La Jolla Parkway…Torrey Pines Senic Drive…it isn’t so bad if you can stick with your map, but if you get lost, have fun.
The last couple of times I went there, I had friends guiding me. This time, I lost my way. Ouch.
I got to the beach and it was very cloudy. I was promised sunny. Who do I talk to about that?
It didn’t take long for me to find the YNA Southern California group that I was supposed to meet. It was all men in their 20s and 30s. On the Meet Up page, there were a couple of women who wanted to go, but didn’t want to be the only woman.
My previous YNA event (before there was an official Southern California chapter) was organized by Melissa DejaNude, who isn’t involved in this group (or in YNA at all anymore). I think the fact that a woman was an organizer was a big part of the reason there was more gender parity in the group.
Despite the clouds and the winds I experienced on the goat trail walking down, it was warm enough to be naked.
I’d heard of Blacks Beach for years, of course, but my first time seeing it was over twenty years ago on a one off Sexcetera special on Playboy Channel. To this day, I can’t figure out how they found a day with so many naked people. Maybe things were different in the mid-80’s when that show was made.
This will disappoint all of you: most people at Blacks are clothed. I don’t get it either. It’s a lot of trouble to get there, so I don’t think people are stumbling into the place.
One woman that was nearby was an example to me of the silliness people have towards nudity. She got undressed and even topless, but kept her very brief thong bikini on. Too nervous to be naked, but not so nervous as to wear one of the most revealing pieces of clothing invented.
Later, when I went on a walk to find that giant metal ball, I ran across two men who were changing into thongs. Yes, this meant that for critical seconds, their precious penises were out there for whoever wanted to look. Being naked for more than ten or fifteen seconds was too much, and they put on those cover-nearly-nothing thongs.
We live in an odd culture.
I always like to note who in a group at places like that actually gets naked. There was a group, for example, of four young women. Three were thin, the fourth was on the plump side. Which one was nude? The plump girl. No sign of a body image problem there. Bless you, child.
When I walked by later, a couple of her friends got naked too.
There is another group that doesn’t get naked: the lookie loos. I’m not talking about curious folks that want to check out nude people, heck, these folks exist at regular beaches. I’m talking about the creeps, the pervs. They have the same look as the ones I used to spot at Reddington Pass: shirted but pantsless men sitting Indian style with an old shirt or towel between their legs to hide their erections. At Reddington, they find spots in the rocks above the canyon. At Blacks, they sit in dugout areas near the cliffs. Get lives, fellas.
I talked about the wind earlier. The lack of wind at the beach itself made for some trouble for the folks at the glider port at the top of the cliffs. It got to be a game for a couple of us trying to guess which ones would crash. No one got hurt, but three had to land on the beach, pack their paragliders and climb back up on the goat trail.
Then, a guy with a hang glider crashed. These don’t pack nicely into bulky but somewhat convenient backpacks. They roll up into a set of poles about fifteen feet long.
I decided to leave a bit later, and that’s how I found out how awkward it is to carry a hang glider. I ended up behind the hang glider guy as he negotiated the switch backs on the goat trail. It was a blessing: I’m way out of shape and anything that gave me an excuse to slow down was welcome.
Thank you to the YNA Southern California chapter for letting me tag along. I don’t know when my next chance to get out there is, but I need to do it more often.

"Nudism Happens"
Whether you have friends to go with you or not; maybe with a little luck you will have at least one outgoing friend with compatible work schedule.
If not, you may end up naked in the desert for a cold night and come home with nothing more than a pleasant memory and a photograph of one slightly bluish ball  (as seen here)! - Yes, that is meant to be a joke!

arizonavichi:

San Diego Report

I took a trip out to San Diego and environs this weekend.

First off, I’m sure you are wondering what’s up with this picture. This is a large steel ball that sits at Blacks Beach. I think it’s an old anchor, but I am not sure. While I’ve been going to Blacks, it has at various time been painted in different colors. The first time I went, someone had helpfully painted “Blacks Beach” on it. Of course, the weekend I go and check it out, it is painted a boring solid white.

My first night, I stayed over at De Anza Springs, a place I haven’t been to in years. There have been some improvements. The restaurant, the Cactus Flower Cafe, has been renovated. When I last went, it wasn’t a dive but definitely showed some wear and tear. I ordered the “Ortega Burger,” which came with a roasted chili on it. Decent food.

I hung in the bar for a while, but most of the folks that were there were permanent residents: an older cliquish crowd. I talked to a couple of people at the bar, but felt like a bit of an intruder. I don’t think they meant any offense. In fact, two of them tried to help me out with my Wi-Fi.

By the way, the activities that night: bingo and karaoke. Ugh.

When I came years ago, there was a band and dancing. It was a special event though.

My biggest problem that night was how cold it got. I forgot that Spring, even in Southern California, means it gets cold at night. I was thinking “desert” like here in Arizona. I didn’t bring enough warm stuff. I spent an uncomfortable night in the car and decided I wouldn’t do a second.

The next day, I drove out to Blacks Beach. Well, I drove out after getting a jump from a staff member. Thank you, sir.

Here’s a warning about getting around La Jolla: every frickin’ street seems to be named “La Jolla” something or “Torrey Pines” something. La Jolla Shores Drive…Torrey Pines Road…La Jolla Parkway…Torrey Pines Senic Drive…it isn’t so bad if you can stick with your map, but if you get lost, have fun.

The last couple of times I went there, I had friends guiding me. This time, I lost my way. Ouch.

I got to the beach and it was very cloudy. I was promised sunny. Who do I talk to about that?

It didn’t take long for me to find the YNA Southern California group that I was supposed to meet. It was all men in their 20s and 30s. On the Meet Up page, there were a couple of women who wanted to go, but didn’t want to be the only woman.

My previous YNA event (before there was an official Southern California chapter) was organized by Melissa DejaNude, who isn’t involved in this group (or in YNA at all anymore). I think the fact that a woman was an organizer was a big part of the reason there was more gender parity in the group.

Despite the clouds and the winds I experienced on the goat trail walking down, it was warm enough to be naked.

I’d heard of Blacks Beach for years, of course, but my first time seeing it was over twenty years ago on a one off Sexcetera special on Playboy Channel. To this day, I can’t figure out how they found a day with so many naked people. Maybe things were different in the mid-80’s when that show was made.

This will disappoint all of you: most people at Blacks are clothed. I don’t get it either. It’s a lot of trouble to get there, so I don’t think people are stumbling into the place.

One woman that was nearby was an example to me of the silliness people have towards nudity. She got undressed and even topless, but kept her very brief thong bikini on. Too nervous to be naked, but not so nervous as to wear one of the most revealing pieces of clothing invented.

Later, when I went on a walk to find that giant metal ball, I ran across two men who were changing into thongs. Yes, this meant that for critical seconds, their precious penises were out there for whoever wanted to look. Being naked for more than ten or fifteen seconds was too much, and they put on those cover-nearly-nothing thongs.

We live in an odd culture.

I always like to note who in a group at places like that actually gets naked. There was a group, for example, of four young women. Three were thin, the fourth was on the plump side. Which one was nude? The plump girl. No sign of a body image problem there. Bless you, child.

When I walked by later, a couple of her friends got naked too.

There is another group that doesn’t get naked: the lookie loos. I’m not talking about curious folks that want to check out nude people, heck, these folks exist at regular beaches. I’m talking about the creeps, the pervs. They have the same look as the ones I used to spot at Reddington Pass: shirted but pantsless men sitting Indian style with an old shirt or towel between their legs to hide their erections. At Reddington, they find spots in the rocks above the canyon. At Blacks, they sit in dugout areas near the cliffs. Get lives, fellas.

I talked about the wind earlier. The lack of wind at the beach itself made for some trouble for the folks at the glider port at the top of the cliffs. It got to be a game for a couple of us trying to guess which ones would crash. No one got hurt, but three had to land on the beach, pack their paragliders and climb back up on the goat trail.

Then, a guy with a hang glider crashed. These don’t pack nicely into bulky but somewhat convenient backpacks. They roll up into a set of poles about fifteen feet long.

I decided to leave a bit later, and that’s how I found out how awkward it is to carry a hang glider. I ended up behind the hang glider guy as he negotiated the switch backs on the goat trail. It was a blessing: I’m way out of shape and anything that gave me an excuse to slow down was welcome.

Thank you to the YNA Southern California chapter for letting me tag along. I don’t know when my next chance to get out there is, but I need to do it more often.

"Nudism Happens"

Whether you have friends to go with you or not; maybe with a little luck you will have at least one outgoing friend with compatible work schedule.

If not, you may end up naked in the desert for a cold night and come home with nothing more than a pleasant memory and a photograph of one slightly bluish ball  (as seen here)! - Yes, that is meant to be a joke!