Magnificant Trip 6-17 thru 6-20

After not visiting DCHS for many years, a female friend and I just had a spectacular trip there from Thursday morning through Sunday morning. We camped at Bowen and it was wonderful. I am an avid backpacker and usually much prefer backpacking to car-camping, but in this case the car-camping provided us major comforts and virtues. Camping up at Bowen meant we had a broad variety of amenities that we would never carry or fit into a pack: Coolers holding three days' worth of cold beer (and wine), fresh veggies, chicken, and other foods to cook (the first night we made a stir-fry that came out exquisitely, and lasted us two dinners, the third night we made pasta with canned salmon, preceded by clam chowder), a large roomy tent, super comfy sleep pads, chairs, plenty of dead wood for a campfire, etc. etc. And camping at Bowen, rather than somewhere else in the area, gave us the peace of mind that our car was not likely to be vandalized or our camping equipment disturbed. (As an extra precaution we kept all our valuables with us in our day packs in our daily trips down to the springs).

Mike was a great host. He directed us to a campsite where we had shade from a Junniper tree, and otherwise left us completely to ourselves. He made available to us as much drinking and washing water as we needed, from a well, although we did not need much from him because we brought about 10 gals of our own, half for drinking and half for showering and washing dishes. (I took a water filter and water bag to the springs each day with us, so we pumped all our drinking and hike-up water while there, saving us the weight of having to carry lots of it or waiting for the hot water from the spout at the springs to cool). And there is an outhouse on the Bowen Ranch, close to where we camped, which was nice for the "morning dump." The outhouse did not even smell (it's only 3-sided), so it was vastly better than having to dig a hole, squat uncomfortably over it, and then bury the waste and burn the paper (as an environmentalist, I burn my used toilet paper, nasty as that is, since the coyotes will otherwise just dig it up).

I first visited DCHS in the summer of 1981, came several times over the following years, then hadn't been there for some years until now. The changes I have noticed are these: It has gotten greener, recovering from the fire of several years ago. On the negative side, there are a lot more textiles, and a lot more people. But I think who is there on a given day, what kind of people they are, and the ratio of nudes to textiles, is hit and miss.

Thursday the people there were mellow and largely nude. It was not too crowded. The shower, and the floaty we brought, let my female friend and I exchange the most amazing water messages for each other, lying like the dead face down on the raft while the other guided us under the hard, warm, pulsating thick stream of falling water. For me, it was a message I could not get in the city for $200. For my naked female friend it provided the same and more: A message which was both literally and figuratively orgasmic, on her back, shoulders, head, buttocks, backs of her thighs, and hitting between her legs from above and behind. The weather was perfect, not too hot and with cooling breezes, and though this was my female friend's first trip to DCHS, she was ecstatic what a beautiful, sensual, and spiritually powerful place it was.

Friday afternoon was spoiled for us by a group of young men (locals) who got very drunk, were very loud, and completely destroyed any serenity or peace for the place while they were there. My female friend did a good job of trying to stay in her calm spiritual space and not let these yahoos invade her inner world, but their loud negative energy was fuckin' penetrating. Their shouting (and drunk-drugged) conversations were very hard to tune out. For instance, a few of them were having the juvenile challenge to each other about who had the bigger dick (!) (though they were all clothed), boisterously challenging to bet each other about the issue, and so on. Two of them struggled to "pants" one of the others. They were so loud they forced all of us to hear them no matter which side of the creek we were on or which part we tried to move to in the area. A single topless woman who was there put her top on and left because of them. Sadly, that is what those yahoos use DCHS for: A place where they can get bombed and drugged out and carry out adolescent obnoxiousness (although they appeared to be in their early 20's), with no parents, neighbors, or law enforcement telling them to please keep it down. They see it as a place to party and to vent all the negativity in their spirits, and do not care at all about how they disturb the other people around them. They seem to have no appreciation at all for the subtle radiant energy blowing like a wind through DCHS, for anyone who stays silent just for a moment. They are lost, of course, to the deeper fulfillment and joy they would experience if they let themselves appreciate the natural beauty and serenity that breathes through the place; they prefer in fact to shout over that natural breath.

But that's the thing about DCHS: People go there for different reasons and to get different things from it. The yahoos want to be loud and boisterous. The scattered perverts make the difficult hike because they are so pathetically desparate to see uncovered breasts or genitals. (Perhaps someone should photograph these guys and post the pictures so their wives, girlfriends, and co-workers can see these sorry souls in their hats, sunglasses, and clothes, perched over and watching a naked woman or women, like a hawk hungry for food but too old and unable to fly down to get it). The textiled youth crowd sees it as a pool party. Others of us go there for serenity and a spiritual lift (infused as well with naked sensuality). And so on. To each his own, I guess, since I cannot expect or make other people, such as the trailer trash crowd, appreciate or want DCHS for what my friends and I want it for.

So back to the trip. After the rowdies essentially drove us out early from the springs on Friday, we decided not to spend time there Saturday. So when we hiked down from Bowen about 11 a.m. or so, we expected just to rest for a very few minutes and to hike on. But nicely, the crowd was mellow again, with a substantial number of nudes, and with textiles who themselves were very mellow and nice to talk to. We talked and shared food with Hippy Dave and some of the other regulars and probably could have been happy staying there the whole day. But we decided to continue with our plan to hike several miles of the PCT and we did. While still at the springs we met a marvelous couple who wanted to hike with us, so the four of us had an inexpressibly beautiful day, just the four of us. When we got back to the springs about 4 pm Sat afternoon, it was pretty crowded but no one was shouting loud "dick comparisons" or anything like that, which we had been forced to endure the day before. Lots of textiles near the area of the womb pool, rocks around it and creek below, and the nudes seemed to be segregated mostly around the area of the shade tree and river banks nearby.

My friend and I pumped some water and rested for a while on the trail side of the springs until about 5 pm, when a group of about 12-14 young beach bunnies (smelling of perfume) and beach guys showed up. They were very nice and even my female friend appreciated their youthful energy. They looked like they were all going to stay in their bikinis and swiming trunks... but to each his own. We had friendly chats with some of them before making our way back up the trail about 5:30 pm. I suspect that some of the girls, so pretty and so conscious at that age how they looked in their bikinis (and whether their belly-button jewelry was sufficiently enticing the young hunks they were with) that they did not even notice that my 50-something friend was leaving the area wearing nothing but her pack and some sandals. But again, to each his own, since diverse people come to DCHS for diverse reasons.

We enjoyed our coffee and the morning sun Sunday morning, then packed up and drove from Bowen without going to the springs and back that day. We could have, but we had things to do back at our homes Sunday afternoon. We both came back feeling a sublime emotional and spiritual calm, the feeling that "this is what the essence of life is all about". That feeling will probably dissipate, as it always does, as I get back into the daily grind. But overall, the experience was indescribable and precious. The yahoos and textiles will never know that experience, but who am I to demand them to? I can only wish that I plan and get lucky enough to visit DCHS strictly on days when the white trash is not there, the pervs are down to only one or two, and the textiles don't send out a repressive vibe to those of us who know that loving nature while naked provides a liberating exuberance, free of the stiffling cultural norm that has no good place nestled in nature and far from sidewalks and cars.



Edited 3 time(s). Last edit at 06/21/2010 05:32PM by mellowguy.