Post by Michael R on Aug 15, 2023 10:41:22 GMT
The signs, and the barricades, are still there. If the tide is low enough, it is possible to drive around them, but that gives LE the probable cause they need to investigate, whether I am clothed, or not. I stop, and park, at the barricade, then walk. Yesterday, August 14th, it was possible to remain as unclothed as I cared to be, for the better part of an hour, near the barricade. All of the clothed folk remained very near the intersection of Highways 124 and 87. (124 is the Highway from Winnie to High Island.) When one vehicle traveled far enough eastward, to prompt me to wrap myself, they actually stopped far enough away, that covering-up would have been unnecessary.
I wish that I had brought a camera, as the birds were abundant, though the best shot would have been two Crested Caracaras some distance inland, from the beach, before I reached High Island, but the purpose of the trip had originally started as an afternoon of fixing multiple things at my mother’s home, near Baytown, so, I had not anticipated a beach visit. There is, however, a rush hour, westbound along I-10, from Baytown toward Houston, so, rather than deal with that, I opted to drive the other direction, for some bird and wildlife viewing. I checked the tide times, using my iPhone, which indicated the beach might be nice, and so I continued all the way to High Island. I stripped off my sweaty work clothes, went for a quick dip, and had a beach bath, with fresh water from jugs. (I keep Dawn dish soap, in my truck.)
Notably, traditional nude use of the beach started a short distance from High Island, as soon as one was a comfortable distance past clothed families. Usually, this was well before one reached the McFaddin boundary. This was in the Eighties and Nineties, though it probably started long before them. With the citations being issued in McFaddin NWR, it makes sense, to me, to return to the tradition of being watchful, and discreet, in any place where distance, haze, and mirage are our friends. There is safety in numbers of course, as one or two can be on watch, while other(s) relax. In the mid/late-Eighties, I and a companion would typically stop two to three miles from High Island, where I could be naked all day, except for a hat and shirt as necessary for the worst of the sun, and she would move the two triangles of her string bikini top from her breasts, and keep her very skimpy bikini bottom in place. (This was quite sexy; more titillating, at least on her*, than full nudity, but it kept her “legal,” not having to cover-up, if a vehicle approached.)
Later, in the Nineties, a different girlfriend preferred to be totally nude, all day, and enjoyed long walks along the beach, so, we generally drove farther, from High Island.
*A really skinny girl looks better, to my eyes, if she keeps something on.
I wish that I had brought a camera, as the birds were abundant, though the best shot would have been two Crested Caracaras some distance inland, from the beach, before I reached High Island, but the purpose of the trip had originally started as an afternoon of fixing multiple things at my mother’s home, near Baytown, so, I had not anticipated a beach visit. There is, however, a rush hour, westbound along I-10, from Baytown toward Houston, so, rather than deal with that, I opted to drive the other direction, for some bird and wildlife viewing. I checked the tide times, using my iPhone, which indicated the beach might be nice, and so I continued all the way to High Island. I stripped off my sweaty work clothes, went for a quick dip, and had a beach bath, with fresh water from jugs. (I keep Dawn dish soap, in my truck.)
Notably, traditional nude use of the beach started a short distance from High Island, as soon as one was a comfortable distance past clothed families. Usually, this was well before one reached the McFaddin boundary. This was in the Eighties and Nineties, though it probably started long before them. With the citations being issued in McFaddin NWR, it makes sense, to me, to return to the tradition of being watchful, and discreet, in any place where distance, haze, and mirage are our friends. There is safety in numbers of course, as one or two can be on watch, while other(s) relax. In the mid/late-Eighties, I and a companion would typically stop two to three miles from High Island, where I could be naked all day, except for a hat and shirt as necessary for the worst of the sun, and she would move the two triangles of her string bikini top from her breasts, and keep her very skimpy bikini bottom in place. (This was quite sexy; more titillating, at least on her*, than full nudity, but it kept her “legal,” not having to cover-up, if a vehicle approached.)
Later, in the Nineties, a different girlfriend preferred to be totally nude, all day, and enjoyed long walks along the beach, so, we generally drove farther, from High Island.
*A really skinny girl looks better, to my eyes, if she keeps something on.
