Griffy Lake, just north of the IU campus, was another place townies and students went to skinny-dip. The lake was on city owned property but the police department made busting simple nudity a low enforcement priority which in practice meant the State of Indiana public nudity laws were never enforced. Perhaps the local powers-that-be reasoned that setting aside a place for exhibitionists to ply their proclivity would translate to fewer instances of indecent exposure in the community at large.
Anywhere along the north shore beyond sight of the causeway skinny-dippers spread their towels on the narrow strip of rocky shoreline. But all was not hunky-dory at Griffy; a city ordinance that prohibited swimming was enforced. Every day during warm weather, usually in the early afternoon, a Parks Department employee walked along the north shore to remind those in the water that swimming wasn't allowed. A first offense garnered a warning and the second offense and beyond, increasingly stiff fines. After the parks employee had departed, everyone went back in the water. This cat & mouse game continued for years. During my four years at IU, I went to Griffy occasionally, just for a change of pace, but I preferred the quarries by a wide margin because of the clear cold water and clean limestone slabs for sunbathing. But when Packinghouse became unavailable in July '81, Griffy was the only game in town.
The first two photos shows the rocky point that was the single largest place along the shoreline where people could gather like they did in the eastern slag pile at Sundown Quarry. In the first photo Tim and Laura are camped on the outcroppings and in the second photo, Henry had come along and spread his towel. All three were Packinghouse exiles.
Just around the corner from the rocky point, a small inlet had a few places to hang out. In photos 3 & 4 this couple was taking a break from swimming on a steep stone slope and in photos 5 & 6 these two women found much better place to stretch out and relax. The small breasted woman on the right worked in a garden supply store I patronized occasionally when I purchased fertilizer for my cannabis.
I didn't have as many photographic opportunities at Griffy as I did at Packinghouse. Far fewer people were in attendance and the geographic layout made it virtually impossible to skulk in the woods on the hillside and see people sunbathing at water's edge. However, when they were floating on air mattresses they could be seen unless trees blocked the view.
To compensate for the deficiencies mentioned above, I did a bit of covert up-close photography. My Minolta SLR's bulk made it difficult to conceal in a gym bag and more than once the loud, mirror-slapping shutter release sound resulted in turned heads and questioning glances. Most of those photos were not worth keeping -over/under exposed, out of focus, crappy composition- but I did manage to snap two presentable pictures of Becky (last two photos) another Packinghouse exile. For the last two months before the quarries shut down, she was a regular visitor in the eastern slag pile at Sundown.
I encourage exit222, and any others who might have patronized the Packinghouse quarries 'back in the day,' to post your recollections, stories, and photos if you have them. All of those accounts will add to the historical record of this amazing place that for generations of skinny-dippers, both townies and IU students, was a mainstay of their recreational lives and a source of much joy.
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