In case you didn’t have your calendar marked, this week is Nude Recreation Week. It’s also the week of the Running of the Bulls in Pamploma, Spain. Now don’t get ahead of me here.

No, I’m not suggesting that the Running of the Bulls should be done nekkid. My guess is there is not that much beer in Spain.

I think that making a bunch of bulls fighting mad and then letting them out of the pen to chase you down the streets of Pamploma is quite ridiculous enough with your pants on. Mooning the first cousin to a Texas longhorn I think would be walking on the very edge.

Not only that, it would be an incredible contrast. Being naked is called going natural. Ticking off a pen full of bulls and letting them chase you is very unnatural. In fact, it’s downright crazy.

I would never say never — except for a resurgence of Dan Quayle and the Village People — but I don’t think nude recreation and the Running of the Bulls will ever mesh.

However, the fact that both of these events take place in the same week or in any week makes one wonder just how desperate our public is for recreation.

The only time I’ve come close to nude recreation was skinny dipping as a kid and those times when I had to shuck off my britches to fetch a redhorse sucker out of a gill net in the creek — a very quick event, given that the redhorse suckers tend to run in the very early spring when the water is just as cold as it is in late winter. (A side note: I once heard that God created cold Montana creeks just to establish that all men are created equal.)

I’ve heard of nude volleyball, nude frisbee chunking and nude hiking, but I have trouble picturing many recreational events that would not seem very awkward outside of one’s britches.

Take bass fishing for instance. I think this would be as much a contrast as running with the bulls in the buff. Watch out for those treble hooks!

And wouldn’t you feel completely ridiculous plundering around in the boat buck naked looking for the can opener and a can of Vienna sausages? And if someone yelled out, “Wow, he’s got a whopper!” How could one be certain what he’s talking about. He could be talking about a trophy bass or a humongous chigger bite.

Quail hunting would certainly be a hoot. I can just imagine a bird dog rolling around in the palmettos laughing his tail off at the sight of a hunter wearing nothing but an orange vest. And don’t go pointing in that blackberry thicket, you hear!

Mostly I think of running with the bulls and nude recreation as far-off subjects. But today I got an invitation to Tallahassee Naturally (formerly known as The Tallahassee Bare-Devils). This is a nudist club near Monticello, Fla.

These people are having an open house July 14.

My invitation says that from 10 a.m. to 11 a.m. you can be fully clothed. From 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., clothing is optional. From 1 p.m. to 4 p.m., you gotta take your britches off if you stay. And if you try to photograph anyone without their permission, you will be asked to leave. I have a question. Where do you carry your film?

It also says, “Because this is an election year, you can even talk with political candidates during the early portion of the event.”

Well, it seems these folks have made some connection between bull and getting naked. I’m thinking though, most politicians keep their pants on until after they are elected.



Dwain Walden is editor/publisher of The Moultrie Observer, 985-4545, ext. 214. E-mail: dwain.walden@gaflnews.com