“I had seen on a map where a small river rumored to have lots of rainbow trout went down in a very deep, wooded canyon about 30 miles east of us. One weekend we loaded up the station wagon with our cruddy old backpacks, cans of pork and beans, beer, etc. Drove out to where, according to my map, we would find an old road down into the canyon.
Well, “road” would be a very charitable description of what we found. When we could drive no further, we strapped on all our stuff - clothed mind you - and followed the “road” down toward the river bottom as it became less and less of a path, with more and more brush, uglier thorns with every step. The hike wasn’t more than a couple miles, but the temperature was over 90 when we finally popped out at the base of the canyon.
This was an almost inaccessible area; no chance of anyone being around at all. Almost instinctively, in our hot, sweaty, scratched-up, worn-out condition we spontaneously stripped off our clothes and jumped in the river. Wow, what a feeling!
We took our fishing rods and hiked our way naked probably one mile down river and then back up. We drank beer and talked until the million stars were visible overhead; slept well, got up and hiked out the next morning. Caught a few fish, saw no other people, had a grand time. I was hooked (little fishing humor) on being naked outdoors.” - Daveco
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