The Question that Ruined My Night’s Sleep

 

By Carl Roy

 

Looking back on my life, one thing that jumps out at me is my unwavering love of trucks and anything connected with the trucking industry. When I was 3 years of age I mashed one of my fingers between a rim of a truck and a hammer and did it do damage to my finger. At the age when you lose baby teeth most people either have the loose teeth out by hand or via the door knob with a string. Not me. I tied a string to my tooth on one end with the other end tied to a tow chain attached to a pickup truck with my father moving the truck ahead. Out came the tooth. When I was old enough to date, in my case dating was delayed as trucks were more interesting to me than girls. If I was in a car I would follow a bus to breathe the diesel exhaust. As a mater of fact, the first vehicle I owned was a sedan delivery. Even today trucks are my life. Start talking trucks and I am there. If someone slams the trucking industry, then you have got to deal with me.

 

In January 2001 I thought my life had come to an end. I had a heart attack, but fortunately I survived. After a quad bypass surgery and 3 months of recuperation it was back to work driving transport. Then after 3 months of driving, things appeared to take a turn for the worse. I was terminated from my employment because I had the nerve to apply for workers compensation. But within a couple of hours I had secured employment at another transport company, which I later discovered was a better place of employment. Within a short period of time my drivers permit was due to be renewed, but this time a stress test was mandatory because of my open heart operation. Now life as I had known it crashed. My permit was revoked down to driving a car. This put me into a position, because of my age, of no prospect for employment. With this situation facing me - someone who has worked all their life in and around the trucking industry - it hit me hard. Depression set in to the point that Workers Compensation sent me to a psychologist to help me with my problems.

 

On January 3, 2005 I had my first session with my psychologist who happens to be a young female. During the session I mentioned that I was a social nudist. Out of this discussion she asked me: at your age, why did you become a nudist and what are your feelings? I hit a brick wall. Answers weren’t coming. It didn’t matter how hard I thought about it, no answers were there, and the question on feelings wasn’t in my vocabulary nor, as I have since found out, is it in that of most males. The best I could do was deflect the situation by stating that she should try nudism, knowing full well that most women don’t take it up at first as they have been told that isn’t what they should do.

 

After my session was over I began to stew about this question. This one simple question started to work on me, causing insomnia. At about midnight I had to get out of bed and try to put my answer on paper. Easier said than done. The more I think about it, the more I realize I still don’t have the complete answer, but this idea has been with me for decades and now with things playing out the way that they are, I have the time and the burning desire to get involved with social nudism even more. The only down side of it I have is that I should not have put it on the back burner for so long, but got involved many years ago. If I had, my health might not be what it is today as I find social nudism brings my blood pressure down to almost normal.

 

My interest in nudism was started when I was about 6 years old by a radio program that I listened to when it was bed time. At that time I didn’t know what a nudist camp was, but it was explained to me. This must have started something because over the years it stayed with me.

 

Somehow I acquired nudist books - not the type of sexually stimulating publication - but the real ones where it was stories and pictures of what they called Sunshine clubs. One must remember this was in the early 1950’s. And yes, I did read the articles even though I hated reading. The National Geographic was another magazine a person my age could wander through but with this one, only looking at the pictures was mandatory.

 

Another thing I remember was sleeping without my pajamas for a time - in other words, in the buff. This went on until my mother figured out what was going on, I guess by the fact that there was no nightwear to wash. Then all of a sudden the pajamas went back on. Somehow the wearing of pajamas didn’t last long, but I slept in my jockey shorts and apparently that was ok.

 

About 1954 when I was 12, my friends and I had a club house at the back end of my parents’ property, which was semi-rural area. Two of my friends and I would go back there after dark and then go outside (in the summer) buck naked and romp around, if you will, thinking we were pulling something that was taboo - and we were right, but no one saw us to get upset. Thinking back on it today, how stupid we were - no one cared as no one could see us anyway. As far as I am concerned the only person it affected was me and it gave me the appreciation for the feeling of freedom from any textile encumbrance 

 

When I was about 13 years old while we were at the summer vacation home, I would take the boat to an island and skinny dip, which was very easy as I never came out of the water and no one could see me. In those days youth could use a motor boat and be legal and I sure did. The lake that I was on had 1,100 islands; a lot of them didn’t have any buildings on them and there was no one around. This lake also had channels that were out of the way and great for swimming, but there was no beach. The lack of a beach made it better, because all one had to do was get out of the boat, tie it up to a tree, strip, slide in and swim. What I did was put my bathing suit on the propeller so that if I needed it, no problem, and no one would be any the wiser. I put all this thought into quick covering and safety, but no one ever came around.

 

All this time I had planned that when I got my drivers license, I would go to one of those Clubs and spend the day. Yes, in those days it was probably hormones raging, although even then, I wasn’t so much interested in girls as I was in trucks. But still, my dream to try social nudism was there. Sure enough, when I became 16 and had my drivers’ license, that summer I planned to make a visit. As most adults know, plans don’t necessary come to pass and true to form, this plan fell by the wayside. Anyway, as most of you know, it would have been difficult for a teenage male to go to a resort without someone taking you. Another problem was that the resort had closed and this left me high and dry, but them’s the breaks. Also, I knew I sure as heck didn’t want to go skinny dipping and break the law; then get thrown in the clink and have my parents bail me out. Today I really don’t know how much trouble I would have gotten into at home. Another minor detail was that I didn’t know any nudists to talk to about naturism.

 

Over the years I would think about my dreams, but did nothing about it. During those years of no progress toward social nudism all that happened was jokes with my peers about going to a nudist camp. A couple of incidents that I would like to tell: one time while in Massachusetts we were laid over for a weekend. Somehow my side kick, Dead Eye and I told our dispatchers we went to a nude beach. Now did that crank the office up and to this day 10 years later they still haven’t figured out that they were had.

 

The second incident was in 2003 when I was learning to use the computer. The school had a social event for Halloween and I told the lady that headed the school that I was coming as a nudist. Was she worried! I did come as a nudist, but as a textile, much to her relief. 

 

My journey to social nudism has taken 50 years. With my heart attack and no prospects of ever getting my license to drive transport back or even a job for someone my age, this left me with time on my hands and a computer. At this point something clicked. I started to wander the ‘Net searching for things to do with ‘naked’ or ‘nude’. Now one must be careful wandering through the Web because one can come upon sexully explicit material or smut very easily.

 

In my early years, I knew what I wanted: family nudist resorts - not something that had loose morals and certainly not a front for orgies, even though I didn’t know then what that was exactly. Now come to think about it, even through out the past when someone said anything negative about naturism, I would get touchy. No wonder the pilot light was still on. Then all of a sudden the burner ignited while I was Web surfing and came across some good websites having to do with naturism. One of those was the Federation of Canadian Naturists (FCN) and from there, this led me to some resorts that I would like to visit in the summer. One of my ideas is to join any organization that furthers and promotes any ideals I have.

 

One of the resorts I found on the Internet that I thought at first I might like to go to for the weekend turned it out to be just not for me. I needed to keep in mind my wife wanted nothing to do with my taking up nudism, although to be fair, she supported me for doing what I did. But I had bad vibes about this place. I don’t chase around and I won’t put myself in that position.

 

Come March 2004 I went to a swim meet put on by the Ontario Roaming Bares. I looked forward to this meet with some trepidation. But even though I was a stranger, all the people were very helpful and friendly, which helped a lot. As part of the process of welcoming a stranger into their midst I was invited to a gathering after the swim meet even though I was only a guest. At the restaurant I was included into the chat at my table. No one was bothered by the fact that I was a stranger. On my 2-hour journey home, was I high. Even when I got to bed, sleep wasn’t in the cards as I tossed and turned the rest of the night. Now I could say that I had a good start on the road to social nudism after many miles in life of wanting to try it.

 

The next step was go to a resort, but with my status - male - and as far as the resorts were concerned, I was still single because there was no way in God’s green earth that my wife would even think of going with me to these, in her words, “dens of sin with sex in every corner.” After a couple of calls I contacted a naturist resort up near Hamilton, Ontario. Good move. Now I was farther along the road to being a social nudist. Here again, this was a positive experience. I met friendly, out-going people willing to talk to me and help me with anything I needed. I spent 2 nights and 1 full day plus 2 half-days. The first half day I spent writing some things that, if I can take the anger out of it, is part of a healing process for when my life was shattered by my heart attack. That day people were talking to me, asking what I was doing, and just visiting with this stranger in their midst. Another thing that was not expected: did I burn and I now have tan lines. Before, only my right arm had a tan, but now my tan line is like a boat’s water line. I must admit that I never thought about putting on sun tan lotion.

 

I started off my second day by walking around the resort and meeting people - all strangers to me. During the day I met more people and had conversations with many. These people were from many different walks of life: retired, civil servants, school bus driver, and who knows what else. One thing I found unusual was a group of about 20 people who came in the afternoon. For a couple of hours they swam, jogged, putted, played volley ball or just lounged around. At about 14.30 they came to the pool deck and had a business meeting, which involved their workplace and also touched upon what went on with their competition. After giving it some thought, this seemed like a great way to hold a business meeting. It sure cut through the who’s-better-than-who mentality and put everyone on an equal basis.

 

When I was socializing it became evident that a good number of people were year-round residents, either living in mobile homes or converted summer homes. An older lady that I was having coffee with on my second day said she had lived there for a few years and 3 times a week goes to a nearby hospital for chemo treatments. When she goes, a taxi picks her up and brings her back. The driver even opens the door of her trailer for her. This was sure different from the transfer ambulance that first did this as the driver would not even go onto the property. I guess he was afraid he might see naked people and it might corrupt him. As a matter of fact, people that have had chemo are not very stable on their feet and she had a terrible time walking the mile to her trailer. Another story she related to me was that when she moved there, she had a dog. She went to take him for a walk and was putting some covering over herself so that no one would see that she was nude. All of a sudden, that idea ground to a halt. Remembering where she was living now, that seemed stupid - no one else was wearing clothes so why should she? That is the reason she moved there: to be textile-free as much as possible.

 

Discussing my feelings is the hardest part of this story to write because as a male, we have never been programmed to express feelings or think about them. This has been a lifetime in the writing and it won’t finish until I die. I would like to thank my psychologist, who originally asked me these questions and to SunnyDay for challenging me in my writing. It appears that I can write anything about myself except my feelings. But after much loss of sleep, I believe that it has finally come to me.

 

I believe that my heart attack and the loss of my drivers permit to drive transport was God’s way of getting my attention as He has other plans for me. I have taken a lot of retraining, but with no hope of ever getting employment, this leaves me with lots of spare time. So now when I question why after so many years did I pursue nudism and get treated for depression, I realize that when all is said and done, I have taken up writing about my life as it pertains to the trucking industry and nudism. On both subjects, I will write about only the positive aspects - not the negative - as I believe that in both cases too many people are naysayers. At this point I am only at the beginning of the learning curve.

 

When it comes to nudism, I find it very relaxing and the feeling I get puts me on a high for about a week. I find myself still talking about the time I had at the resort and have made a reservation for my wife to go for a Mothers Day Dance. While talking to the lady that took my reservation I found myself asking how some of the people I had met are making out through the winter.

 

The swim meets I attend are once a month. I must drive over 100 miles to get there, but it is worth it as this also gives me a high that can carry me for a week. Just think, people pay big money for drugs to get high and all I have to be is nude. I wish I could describe this feeling better, but I cannot. I just know why I feel the way that I do.

 

When I found out what it was like going for a nice walk in the nude at the resort, it got my mind racing about when I am at my summer cabin. There is a roadway cut out of the woods that is there as a right of way for the people to get into their property. At 06.00, traffic is nonexistent due to the fact that everyone is still asleep. I would get up and go for a quiet walk about a mile up the road and back with no one around other than mosquitoes. The problem with this location is that I can only do it in July and August.

 

With this new found purpose for living life, I believe I should go to different Nature Resorts in the summer in the American North East and write about them. These would be just short articles, but before I can do that, my writing skills must improve and I think they will thanks to the likes of Sunny and other editors. The more I think about it, I’m convinced that God has pointed me in this direction in order to get the message out that nudism is OK and that maybe it is my job to let people know that through my writings.