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Old 02-05-2013, 08:21 PM
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Paradoxodarap Paradoxodarap is offline
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Default Quarry skinny-dipping

Just outside the town where I attended college, a complex of abandoned limestone quarries served as swimming holes for university students and townies alike. Deep, clear, cold water and clean stone slabs on which to sunbathe were an irresistible combination. Since the property was privately owned, nudity was perfectly legal and widely practiced. The quarry denizens weren't trespassing; they were welcomed by the property owner, an elderly gent. Wearing his customary denim coveralls, green plaid shirt and wide-brimmed straw hat, he made an occasional appearance to sit and visit with the lovely young ladies running around in their birthday suits. I earnestly believe that's what kept him kicking well into his eighties.

The quarry property had eight separate holes filled with water, each with a name befitting its unique character; Long hole, Mill pond, Icebox, Sundown, Half moon, Full moon, Rosebud and Goldfish. The holes were widely dispersed on the forested 200 acres (give or take) and connected by decrepit gravel service roads and a network of foot paths crisscrossing the property. On sultry summer days, scores of people were in attendance, each relaxing at the quarry hole of their choosing.

Throughout the 70s and into the early 80s skinny-dipping reigned but in July 1981 it all came crashing down when the elderly gent passed away and his middle-aged son inherited the property. He promptly locked the gate across the access road and had the sheriff arrest anyone who dared defy the brand-new signs, stating: NO TRESPASSING. The party was over.

The economic boom of the mid 80s spurred demand for building stone and the quarries reopened. Icebox was drained and stone extraction resumed. Sundown and Full moon became dump sites for tons of new slag: fractured overburden and blocks not suitable for milling. What had been a hippie haven became a mining moonscape.

The dawn of the new millennium brought more change; in 2002 a four-lane divided highway was built across the property, burying part of Long hole, half of Mill pond and all of Rosebud. Now, whenever I visit my alma mater and cruise my Camry over the graveyard of memories, all I can do is sigh. Time changes everything and not always for the better. Today, the spirit of the quarries lives on only in the hearts of those who loved the place and in photographs.

These photos, taken between August '79 and July '81, are guaranteed *not* reposts and in fact, are making their internet debut right here on OCC.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

Sundown Quarry. A congenial crowd on the eastern slag pile. This hole was the most popular for several reasons: It was one of the largest in the complex, had multiple access points for easily entering/exiting the water and had dozens of prime limestone slabs sunbathing. The aforementioned eastern slag pile and another, smaller, on the west, provided space for bathers to gather in groups. Additionally, on the east end, an 18-foot-tall cliff allowed those inclined to dive into the deep.

Sundown. After diving off the cliff, this young lady's swim brief needed realignment. Had she gone bottomless as well, such bother could have been avoided. But clothing optional means just that: personal choice.

Sundown. At the eastern slag pile, getting ready to climb aboard an air mattress. Her left foot is on a very popular sunbathing rock.

Sundown. This girl attended three times (to my knowledge) before she summoned the gumption to take off her top. After that, never again were her breasts denied sunshine.

Sundown, eastern slag pile. The parking lot was about a quarter-mile from Sundown. Carrying a beach bag and wearing sandals, this girl always hiked the distance nude. Those in attendance could see her advancing down the trail in all her natural glory and at day's end, her shapely bare buttocks returned up the same trail.

Sundown, eastern slag pile. Backgammon.

Half moon Quarry. Usually, this girl wore only a bikini bottom but on this day, she wore a black one-piece which she rolled down, creating an impromptu thong.

Sundown. The two individuals on the left had just finished swimming and were messing with their hair.

Goldfish Quarry. Climbing out onto her limestone perch. This was the last exposure on my roll of Ektachrome and I forgot to bring a spare. Damn! She and a girlfriend (unseen) settled down to sunbathe and all could do was curse my negligence.

Sundown. The rock this couple is sitting on is an island. The scene reminds me of Adam & Eve after the fall from grace. Downcast eyes tells the story; yes we have sinned.
Attached Thumbnails
1 Sundown Quarry.JPG   2 Sundown Quarry.jpg  

3 Sundown Quarry.JPG   4 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

5 Sundown Quarry.JPG   6 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

7 Half moon Quarry.jpg   8 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

9 Goldfish Quarry.JPG   10 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

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Old 02-06-2013, 02:40 AM
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Default Exciting pictures from good old days!

Hope you got some more...
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Old 02-06-2013, 11:03 PM
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wow, this is awesome. The story, the pics, the memories....

Thats because where I went to college, there was a similar hangout. I had to look at the pics carefully, but clearly they are not from my school. But I sure did flash back, though!

It is sad what happened in this case. Naturally, I would like to know where this was, but of course that is up to you.
But i'm still curious - what was it like to be there in person, especially on a peak day? How many people might you find?

Judging from the vegetation, my best guess is California. I could be wrong though. It might be Texas or really - just about anywhere - midwest, south, west. It just doesn't look that east coast somehow..

thanks!

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Old 02-07-2013, 03:17 PM
daveduchovny daveduchovny is offline
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Best Third Post Ever.
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Old 02-07-2013, 09:35 PM
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Estimating peak usage is difficult; people were scattered over 200 acres at eight different quarry holes. And some didn't swim. They just laid a towel on a stone slab in one of the dozens of slag piles on the property and enjoyed some peace and quiet and solitude. And for couples, some sought seclusion to do what lovers do.
Trying to estimate peak usage by the number of vehicles in the parking lot would have yielded inaccurate results. The quarries were a mere 10 minute bicycle ride from campus and many students, myself included, used pedal power to get there.

My best guess: on sultry summer weekends, somewhere between two and three hundred people were scattered about the property, a fairly young demographic, mainly twenty and thirtysomethings. And always, there was a roughly even gender split; it wasn't like some clothing optional venues where there's a hundred guys and two girls. At any one time, the largest number I ever saw at Sundown Quarry was around 80 individuals.

Since the quarries were so close to town, weekday evenings saw a spike in usage. For some townies, happy hour didn't involve patronizing dingy, smoke-filled taverns, quaffing discounted adult beverages. Instead, they went skinny-dipping in the fresh air and late-day sunshine.

The quarries were (and what's left of them still are) located in the American heartland. Dimfoy's comment suggests that he knows where. Dimfoy, 'back in the day' if you attended these quarries, did you snap any photos? If so, please post them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~

Full moon Quarry on a hazy, lazy August afternoon. Based on my observations, Full moon was the second most popular quarry. A wide ledge on the right in this photo, and another on the left (unseen) provided lots of sunbathing space and easy access to the water. And lots of stone blocks, on the right, provided additional towel-spreading space.

The guy and the suited girl were boyfriend-girlfriend and usually attended alone. But once in awhile, they brought their female friend. In this series, they're situated on the same promontory as in the first photo, just shot from a different angle with a more powerful lens. I never witnessed suited girl nude, not even topless. She didn't know what she was missing.
Attached Thumbnails
11 Full Moon Quarry.JPG   12 Full Moon Quarry.JPG  

13 Full Moon Quarry.JPG   14 Full Moon Quarry.JPG  

15 Full Moon Quarry.JPG   16 Full Moon Quarry.JPG  

17 Full Moon Quarry.JPG   18 Full Moon Quarry.JPG  

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Old 02-09-2013, 09:42 PM
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When posting on internet forums, I refrain from revealing identifying information; been my policy for years. But in this case, I'm going to make an exception. When I'm browsing photos here, or anywhere, I find myself thinking, I wonder where that is. I know the curiosity exists . . . so here goes: The photos featured in this thread were taken just outside Bloomington, Indiana, home of Indiana University, my alma mater. The quarries were (and still are) officially named after the family that owns the property and operates the stone cutting business but generations of skinny-dippers called them the Packinghouse Quarries after the meat packing plant (now defunct) alongside the gravel lane leading to the quarry gate.

Quarry culture runs deep in this town. During the early decades of the 20th century, the limestone industry was the largest employer in the region and supported thousands of families. In older core neighborhoods, sidewalks are paved with, not concrete, but limestone slabs. And most of them have survived 100 years without need for repair.
The 1979 motion picture Breaking Away was filmed here and many scenes were shot the Sanders quarries, six miles south of town. Because of the movie, the term 'Cutter,' meaning townie, became a household word. The film was shot during September and October of 1978, my freshman year. I was in one of the crowd scenes, where the Cutters were accepting the trophy for winning the Little 500 bicycle race. Maybe that's why I'm destined for life of obscurity; my 15 seconds of fame came and went.

And quarry culture runs deep at the university as well. Most of the buildings on campus are constructed of limestone locally cut, milled and carved. Limestone statuary abounds on campus and the School of Fine Arts offers a course on limestone sculpture.
Nowhere else on campus is the quarry culture more visible than in the athletic department. Memorial stadium is better known as The Quarry. Just outside the varsity locker room sits a large limestone rock. When the football players emerge on game day, as they run past, each and every one of them slaps The Rock, honoring tradition and also, I believe, symbolically gaining from the stone the hardness they need to vanquish their foe on the gridiron. In the first photo, in the lower left, the mural on the stadium wall is reminiscent of the eastern slag pile at Sundown Quarry.

On the web, an IU sports blog is called The Crimson Quarry. (IU's school colors are cream & crimson) I feel absolutely certain that many of the middle-aged alumni bloggers skinny-dipped in the Packinghouse quarries in the 70s during their undergraduate years. I would bet on it. For them, and myself as well, those days of naked fun under the summer sun will live forever in pleasant memories.

The second photo is taken from the 1961 Arbutus, the Indiana University yearbook. Apparently, skinny-dipping hadn't yet taken root, but even back then, IU students were swimming at Long Hole.

So, you see, quarries aren't just places to extract quality building stone and swim in the holes after they're abandoned. Quarries are a defining thread in the fabric of our community.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~

I spent so much time at the Packinghouse quarries that I became casually acquainted with many of its denizens. Mocha, a townie, spent more time at the quarries than I did. That's saying a lot! During the summers he practically lived there in his Econoline van. Despite his gruff exterior, he was a mild-mannered flower child. He never went nude; always wore a loincloth.
This series was shot at Full moon Quarry on the wide ledge visible on the right in the first photo of post #6. Mocha is with two townie friends, Carla, blonde, lying down, and Leslie, dark hair. Shirley, sandy hair, was an IU student.
Attached Thumbnails
The Quarry.JPG   quarry.jpg  

19 Full moon Quarry.JPG   20 Full moon Quarry.jpg  

21 Full moon Quarry.jpg   22 Full moom Quarry.jpg  

23 Full moon Quarry.jpg   24 Full moon Quarry.jpg  

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Old 02-11-2013, 09:13 PM
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Two more folks with whom I was acquainted. Tim & Laura, married, were townies but from a different town 80 miles distant. Nevertheless, they made it down every few weeks. The eastern cliff at Sundown Quarry was cut in a zigzag pattern into the hillside. In the first four photos they're camped atop the cliff on one of the zigs. Or was it zag? In the last six, on a different day, they're in the western slag pile.

The cliff face displays mature patina: deep weathered graying and stains from overlying organic matter.
This hole was cut long before the people featured in these photos were born.
Attached Thumbnails
25 Sundown Quarry.JPG   26 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

27 Sundown Quarry.JPG   28 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

29 Sundown Quarry.JPG   30 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

31 Sundown Quarry.JPG   32 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

33 Sundown Quarry.JPG   34 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

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Old 02-11-2013, 10:11 PM
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this is a veritable gold mine of retro naked pics of the likes we seldom see here. YOu have no idea how much I appreciate this plus the stories.

There was a quarry of sorts at my alma matter. Actually is was a small reservoir but it was surrounded by rocks where everyone sat.

My freshman and sophomore year, I would go occasionally alone or with some guys. My heart would pound as I would approach the rocks and get my first glimpse of college coed flesh through the trees.

Later, I went with some mixed groups including various girlfriends. The girls would usually at least go topless. ONe teased me by only taking anything off after she got in the water. I recall vividly trying to see through the murky water as she swam 5-10ft off shore.

My best friend's big breasted girlfriend allowed us a much appreciated look at her breasts. And my girlfriend also obliged him in return, but only briefly. Another mutual friend got completely naked, and this was supposedly made possible because "she was dutch". This was somehow what made it possible, since Americans were, of course, way too uptight to go naked on a beach, right? That was what she would tell us....

anyway, thanks for the memories...

Klondike
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Old 02-13-2013, 05:37 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Klondike View Post
this is a veritable gold mine of retro naked pics of the likes we seldom see here. YOu have no idea how much I appreciate this plus the stories.
I'm glad you enjoy my photos and stories. Stayed tuned; I have plenty more of both. I took these photos for my own enjoyment and over the years have given a select few paper copies to only a handful of close friends. Years ago when I was in college, I had no inkling whatsoever that someday a mass market technology would enable the sharing of these images with, potentially, millions. I'm more than happy to have them enter the public domain.

Your use of the word, 'retro' underscored, for me, how much time has passed since the last of these photos were taken. It doesn't feel like three decades; the memories are as fresh as ever. 'Retro' served as a reminder for me, and should for others as well: embrace the present day, live it, love it, grab it by the horns and suck the very marrow out of its bones, for in the blink of an eye, ten, twenty, thirty years will have gotten behind you.

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Originally Posted by Klondike View Post
My freshman and sophomore year, I would go occasionally alone or with some guys. My heart would pound as I would approach the rocks and get my first glimpse of college coed flesh through the trees.
I too experienced heart-pounding excitement when visiting the quarries. When I arrived on campus for my freshman year, I learned through the student g r a p e vine about this place just beyond town, a quarry where you could skinny-dip. An unofficial, underground student guidebook listed 'alternative' local attractions including the Packinghouse quarries. Those cursory directions and hand scribbled map were all I needed; I hopped on my bicycle and pedaled out there.
When I first glimpsed a half-dozen unclad coeds sunbathing in the Sundown Quarry slag pile, I'll never forget my reaction: Yes! Yes!! Yessssss!!! I was utterly amazed; until that moment, I had assumed that only on California nude beaches did college girls run around naked. I was enthralled to find a nudie place so close that I could attend whenever I pleased. I went time and again and my initial excitement never subsided.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~

The eastern slag pile at Sundown Quarry had two distinct zones; the upper, relatively flat area and the rock jumble that sloped down toward the water. The first 5 photos shows the flat area. In the first photo, Tim & Laura are visiting with Pat. Henry, on the left, mid 40s, was one of the older regular townie attendees.

I've read, and you probably have too, that some nature-loving nudists vehemently deny being exhibitionists. Hogwash. In my opinion, anyone who strips naked in pubic in plain view of others is an exhibitionist to one degree or another. (I include myself in that category) Pat, a once-upon-a-time IU student turned townie, fit my definition of an ardent exhibitionist.

Oftentimes Pat would don shoes and go hiking on the network of trails through the woods connecting the other quarry holes. In photo 3, shoes on her feet, she is departing on such a walk. Forty-five minutes later, in photo 4, she returns having made a grand tour of the grounds. Her motive was nakedly transparent: to exhibit her tanned body to as many spectators as possible.

The last four photos where Pat is sitting/standing at Mill pond is today buried under 25 feet of earthen fill topped with asphalt and commuter traffic. Pity.

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got til it's gone
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot (Highway)
Attached Thumbnails
35 Sundown Quarry.jpg   36 Sundown Quarry.jpg  

37 Sundown Quarry.jpg   38 Sundown Quarry.jpg  

39 Sundown Quarry.jpg   40 Mill pond.jpg  

41 Mill pond.jpg   42 Mill pond.jpg  

43 Mill pond.jpg  
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Old 02-15-2013, 08:11 PM
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During the summers, instead of taking off for parts unknown like many college students, I remained in town to work and help pay for school. For those 3 months, in essence, I became a townie. Weather permitting, weekdays after work I pedaled out to Packinghouse and enjoyed tranquil evenings with my growing circle of acquaintances. It was during those times I came to understand how Sundown Quarry got its name.
As the sun sank low and kissed the horizon, radiance reflecting off the long fetch of water painted the cliffs with shimmering patterns, ebbing, flowing, morphing through deepening shades of rose, mauve and magenta until, at last, when the final glimmer of twilight had vanished in the west, starlight alone shined down on the ancient stone.

I didn't spend all my time skulking in the woods with my Minolta SLR; most of the time my bare butt was parked on the rocks with my fellow skinny-dippers. Oh sure, in doing so I missed hundreds of photo opportunities but I didn't care. Capturing candid images of human wildlife in its natural habitat was pleasing but I derived far greater gratification from schmoozing with the ladies up-close-and-personal.

The crowd at Packinghouse was a microcosm of society; all personality types were represented; those who preferred peace and quiet and solitude, 420-friendly party animals and everything in between. Those who sought to put the 'social' in social nudity gathered in the eastern slag pile at Sundown. On sultry summer weekends, scores of nudists spread their towels and shoehorned themselves onto every available rock. Because of the helter-skelter arrangement of rocks, people sat and reclined at odd angles and at different elevations. And if you were lucky, you were treated to a view ordinarily reserved for gynecologists.

Acquaintances galore I made during my years at Packinghouse -students, townies, men, women- but true friends I could count on one hand. Kate, a student, spent her summers in town, attending summer school and hanging out at the quarries. And by the end of each season she wore a seamless tan of rich dark chocolate. Had she not been romantically involved, very easily I could have fallen for Kate; she was the kind of girl any man would covet; intelligent, witty, sensitive, spontaneous, playful, and, to top it off, very easy on the eyes.

Second semester of my sophomore year I had a class with Kate, journalism 212. Course requirements included writing assignments and photographic projects. Her forte was English composition and mine, black & white photo processing. That first week of class after New Year's we forged a partnership; we agreed to help each other strengthen our weak points. During group study evenings, Kate was brutally honest in critiquing my writing and diligently edited my mistakes. From her, I learned much. And I gave her the benefit of my years of darkroom experience, demonstrating the myriad techniques one could employ to transform marginal negatives into prints worthy of framing. The result of our academic mutual aid: we aced our midterms.

As winter melted into spring and opening day at the quarries drew near, I asked Kate if she would pose nude for my final photographic project. Over lunch one Friday at the student union building, I outlined my vision: a photo documentary of Packinghouse, featuring her smiling face and lean tanned body reclining on the rocks, walking through the woods, diving off the cliff and swimming in the deep clear waters, things I'd had the pleasure of watching her do countless times. I was stoked at the prospect of taking up-close photos (and lots of them) of this girl with the baddest tan in all of quarryland.
However, she declined my request and her reason was valid; photo projects were always placed on exhibit in Ernie Pyle Hall, the journalism building. She wasn't squeamish about public nudity by any means but she drew the line at having her personal and academic lives intersect; she didn't want her classmates and professors to see her naked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~

That was then and this is now. Kate with her friend, Julie, in the eastern slag pile, Sundown Quarry.
Attached Thumbnails
44 Sundown Quarry.JPG   45 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

46 Sundown Quarry.JPG   47 Sundown Quarry.JPG  

48 Sundown Quarry.JPG  
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