Written by someone who has never visited Saskatchewan and has no idea if nudism is practiced/legal there. I randomly picked a lake name from the map.

Published as part of Nude Day 2026 event.

This also happens to be my first attempt to write a explicit story.

Standard Apology : English is not my first language. I apologise in advance for the mistakes. I use a online editor for spell check.

Please like and comment if you liked it. Comment to let me know if didn’t.

The Hike

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Chapter 1

Jake was late. Not fashionably late. Not accidentally late.

Flights from Halifax was usually late. His flight had landed nearly an hour ago, but he’d texted Claire to say that he was taking an Uber. To her that was a stupid idea given the traffic but he still struggled with Metro for some reason.

Claire was waiting when he knocked. She opened after a deliberate delay. “See an hour. You could have saved time had you listened to me”

Jake looked mildly dishevelled. “Sorry,” he said, grinning. In one hand he held his suitcase and in other a grocery bag containing bananas and a half-eaten chocolate bar.

Claire maintained her pretend annoyance somehow.

“Got distracted by a street musician playing the accordion.” His grin widened. “You would’ve hated it.”

Claire rolled her eyes and stepped aside.

The apartment was smelling of some scented candle. “I’ve made fish curry” she declared. He hated spicy food and yet never complained.

Jake placed the grocery bag on the counter after kicking off his shoes.

“You brought bananas?” she asked while setting plates.

“There was a great deal. A kilo for toonie.”

“That is a horrible deal.”

“Is it?” — he pretended surprise.

“And the chocolate?”

“I rescued it.”

“By eating half of it?”

Jake considered the question. “I ate only my part.”

Claire shook her head. For reasons she couldn’t entirely explain, his nonsense usually worked on her.

Maybe because he had easy view of the life — kind of.

Jake was dipping naan bread in curry. “So. You still set on this naked hike thing?”

She licked her fingers. “I’m not set on it.”

Jake was already rummaging through her cupboard for a glass. “You sound pretty set on it.”

“I think we should try something new. Before we turn into one of those couples who just…” She searched for the right words. “…stop trying.”

The sentence landed harder than she’d intended. Jake paused. For a moment she thought he might joke his way around it. Instead, he filled the glass from the tap. When he finally turned back toward her, the smile had faded slightly. The thing was, neither of them had ever been the dramatic type.

They didn’t fight much. They didn’t storm out of rooms. Never lied. Never tried to cheat even if they stayed far away.

——————

Jake and Claire had met nine months earlier through a mutual friend named Rachel – a volunteer paramedic, part-time farmer, amateur beekeeper, avid birdwatcher, staunch atheist, and, for reasons neither of them fully understood, a committed nudist.

Rachel had declared them perfect for each other because they were both “weirdo, but compatible.” That was rich coming from her — who had plans to donate her body for experiments after death.

Annoyingly, she had been right. Jake and Claire shared values. Shared ambitions. Shared ideas about what a family should look like. Their political, religious and financial views were similar. They could spend hours talking about books, politics, work, travel, or absolutely nothing. Being together felt easy. Maybe too easy.

They’d become engaged while jokingly discussing retirement savings and debating which city they should eventually live in.

For most this would be a success story.

Lately, both of them had begun wondering whether they had mistaken compatibility for momentum.

Claire wasn’t afraid the relationship was failing. She was afraid it was standing still. And somehow that felt worse.

——————

Jake took a slow drink of water. “Okay,” he said.

Claire raised an eyebrow. “Okay what?”

“Okay, maybe Rachel’s ridiculous naked-hiking idea isn’t completely insane.”

“That’s the best you think of the idea?”

“I’m easing into it.”

Claire laughed despite herself. The sound loosened something inside her chest.

Jake pointed at her. “There it is.”

“What?”

“The laugh.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t make this weird.”

“Too late. We’re discussing recreational nudity. Weird left the building twenty minutes ago.”

Rachel had talked about something called as National Nude Day. Initially they thought she was high on her home-made mead which was not uncommon.

But a little search on internet told it really was something. She had mentioned it reignites self conscious and relationships. Maybe it really was what they needed.

Chapter 2

Claire was showing photos Rachel had sent on her laptop.

A group of people stood on a sunny area, laughing at something. Bare shoulders. Hair undone by wind. Not a scrap of clothing in sight.

Jake leaned closer and squinted.

“Are those… pine trees?”

His finger landed on a blurry patch of green behind Rachel’s elbow.

“You are watching her boobs. Aren’t you?” she smirked.

“No. I was just seeing that dense fur… foliage” — he lied unconvincingly.

Claire snorted. “Oh please. You were definitely looking at tits. Nice and big — aren’t they?”

Jake straightened with exaggerated offense. “I was assessing the terrain. For safety.”

“For safety?”

He pointed at the screen again. “Look at that incline. You think I want you slipping on a rogue acorn while your bare ass skids – “

Claire threw a cushion at him. He caught it effortlessly. The smug grin that followed suggested he had been expecting it.

“Okay,” he said, setting the cushion aside. “But maybe we don’t start with a full expedition.”

Claire narrowed her eyes. “What are you proposing?”

“What if we spend a day naked here first? Just to see how it feels.”

Claire knew Jake well enough by now to recognize it. He wasn’t nervous about being naked.

Or not just about being naked. He was nervous about failing. About putting effort into that hike and finally discovering that effort wasn’t enough.

She looked back at the laptop, scrolling to another photo.

One had Rachel alone with her cheeks flushed from exertion and her hair tangled by the wind — smiling back at the camera. Somehow she seemed happy. But then she was always happy.

“Rachel says it’s freeing,” Claire said.

Jake made a face. “Rachel also thinks sleeping in a hammock is healthier than sleeping on a bed.”

Claire laughed. “Fair.” She studied the picture for another moment. “She said you stop worrying about how you look.”

Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Okay.”

“And after a while you stop thinking about being naked.”

“That seems unlikely.”

“Apparently you just… exist.”

“Or you spend three hours hiking and everyone at the trailhead learns exactly how much your sweat stinks and what your real dick size is.”

Claire laughed again. “So that’s your real concern. People finding about your dick size.”

“I mean I’m a man. I am afraid of being judged for my penis.”

The tension that had settled over the apartment earlier loosened slightly. Jake had always been good at that. Not fixing problems. Making them easier to bear.

——————

Sometime later they were sharing a couple of beers in the balcony. Her feet were planted on his lap. The conversation drifted to work, their parents, then back to the hike.

“Seriously, though,” he said playing with her toes. “If we’re going to do this – if we’re going to try something different – I want it to mean something.”

Claire looked at him confused.

“I don’t want us to strip off our clothes and pretend that’s some life-changing revelation.”

She knew exactly what he meant. The hike wasn’t really the point. Neither of them believed it was. The point was that they had both noticed the same thing. Their relationship wasn’t broken. It had simply stopped moving. And they worried long distance between them was worsening it.

“So maybe we start small. Starting tomorrow morning. We cook something new. We stay in naked. See what happens.”

“Let’s be honest Jake. If we stay here, we’ll spend half the day checking phone and laptop.”

“That’s true.”

“And by afternoon at least one of us will be asleep.”

Jake considered that. “Also true.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to do it here.”

“Because we will sleep?”

Because this apartment had become part of her routine. Because routine was the problem. Because every conversation about their future somehow ended in practicalities – jobs, cities, leases, commute. Because neither of them seemed capable of escaping their own habits.

Instead she simply said, “No, let’s do it properly.”

Jake stared at her for a moment. Then a reluctant smile appeared. “That sounds suspiciously like a terrible idea.”

“It probably is.”

“Good.”

And for the first time all evening, they both seemed genuinely excited.

Chapter 3

The logistics were easy enough. The harder part was admitting that both of them were taking this far more seriously than they pretended.

Finally, Jake exhaled. “Okay.”

Claire looked up. “Okay?”

“Okay, we’ll do it. But with conditions.”

Claire smiled. “Of course there are conditions.”

He held up three fingers. “Three of them. First: we pick somewhere remote. Not regular-people remote. Like really remote. Horror-movie remote.”

“Reasonable. Keep in mind that in horror-movie remote couples end up dying a gruesome death by a inbred family carrying chainsaws.”

He ignored it. “Second: if either of us changes our mind, we leave immediately. No guilt. No debates. No trying to convince each other.”

Claire nodded. She liked that.

“And third…” Jake paused. His gaze drifted toward the ceiling as though the final condition might be written there. “We do it over a weekend. No rushing. Full day. Not some four hour shit”.

Something inside her relaxed. Not because of the conditions themselves. Because Jake was treating this the same way she was.

“Deal.” She extended her hand.

Jake shook it solemnly. “Excellent. Our nudist treaty is now legally binding.”

Claire laughed. “What about transportation?”

Jake considered. “A camper van?”

The idea seemed promising for approximately three seconds. Then his face twisted. “No.”

“No?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Too much work. Too high a cost. “

Claire agreed. “Just a regular van then.”

“Not a car?”

“Easier to sleep in van.”

The image appeared simultaneously in both their minds. A battered rental. Fogged windows. Questionable upholstery. An alarming number of mosquito bites. Their carefully packed belongings scattered everywhere.

Claire groaned. “God, we’re terrible at this.”

“We’re amateurs. You want experts go with Rachel.”

“I’m not marrying her.”

“Where exactly is this hike?”

She shook her head and picked up her phone. “Rachel suggested somewhere.”

She scrolled through several messages before finding a screenshot of a map. “There.” She handed him the phone. “A trail near Waskeslo Lake.”

Jake studied the image. “Waskeslo??”

“Rachel says there’s enough tree cover that you don’t feel like you’re on display.” Claire zoomed in. “And there are little coves and side trails where people can disappear for a while if they get overwhelmed.”

Jake squinted. “Saskatchewan?”

“Yes.”

“Saskatchewan Saskatchewan?”

Claire folded her arms. “How many Saskatchewans do you know?”

Jake traced the route on the screen. “That’s a very long way from Montreal.”

“We are a very large country, Jake.”

“We have perfectly good forests in nearby. How about some trail in Ontario?”

Claire immediately wrinkled her nose. “Ontario forests contain families.”

Jake waited. “So?”

“So families contain children.”

“Oh right.”

“And picnic baskets.”

Jake stared at her. “Picnic baskets are the problem?”

“They attract people.”

“I don’t think that’s how picnic baskets work.”

Claire ignored him. “Rachel says this place is basically nudist-approved.”

“That sounds suspiciously unofficial.”

“It is.”

“Wonderful.”

She took the phone back. For a moment she studied the map again. Then her voice softened. “I like that it’s far away.”

Jake’s expression shifted. “Why?”

Claire hesitated. Because she wasn’t entirely sure herself. Or perhaps she was.

“Because it’s neutral. Not Halifax.” She pointed at him. “Not Montreal.” Then she pointed at herself. “Not your place. Not mine.”

Her eyes dropped back to the map. “Just ours for a weekend.”

Eventually Jake reached out and tugged her closer. “Alright. Saskatchewan it is.”

His mouth curved into a smile. “But we’re flying.”

Claire raised an eyebrow. “Obviously. I’m not spending driving trapped in a vehicle with you before we even start this adventure.”

“You make me sound unbearable.”

“You leave wet towels on furniture.”

“Not always.”

“You alphabetized my spice rack.”

“I was being helpful.”

“You corrected my grocery list.”

“It was misspelled.” Jake pointed triumphantly.

Claire laughed. And for the first time since the conversation had started, neither of them seemed worried about what the weekend might reveal.

Chapter 4

They hired a van at Saskatoon International. His Halifax Nurse Id card somehow got them a discount too.

The van smelled like stale fries and artificial pine. The sort of smell that suggested the vehicle had been “deep cleaned” with a single spray of Febreze by someone who was paid minimum wages.

Claire wrinkled her nose as she tossed their backpacks onto the back. She settled on the passenger side. The springs of bench seat groaned in protest. “I think I know why they gave us a discount.”

Jake slid into the driver’s seat. He twisted the key with a theatrical flourish. The engine roared to life.

“Ta-daa.” Jake patted the dashboard affectionately.

Claire shook her head. The fact that she was willingly embarking on a cross-country nudist expedition still felt faintly absurd. Then again, she had accepted his proposal. That too without thinking. Neither decision seemed entirely rational. Yet felt strangely right.

The drive itself passed more easily than either of them had expected. They stopped for groceries. Bought enough water to survive a minor apocalypse. Argued over trail mix. Did an obligatory purchase of coffees and timbits from a Tim Horton.

Jake spent ten full minutes wondering where nudists keep their wallets. Claire did not bother to answer.

Eventually the forests thickened. The roads narrowed. Civilization began to feel increasingly optional — as if Saskatchewan was not already sparse. By the time they reached the trailhead, the world had become pine trees, sky, and silence. The lake appeared only in brief flashes through the trees. A shimmer of blue between trunks. A glint of sunlight on water. Then even that disappeared.

Jake parked in a secluded clearing well away from the handful of campers clustered near the main campground.

Neither of them moved. Claire stared through the windshield. Somehow discussing public nudity in Montreal had been easy. Standing at the edge of a forest where it was about to become real felt different.

Her fingers settled on the door handle.

“Park rangers really don’t care?” She heard herself whisper the question. As though speaking too loudly might summon one.

Jake was already untying his shoes. “Rachel said they mostly pretend not to notice.”

That did not reassure her. He thought for a moment. “Think of it as a nudist speakeasy.”

Claire snorted despite herself. The comparison was ridiculous enough to break some of the tension.

The rest lingered as they climbed out of the van. For a while neither spoke much. They simply stood beside the vehicle pretending to organize their belongings. Eventually there were no more belongings left to organize.

Claire pulled off one shoe. Then the other. Jake followed suit.

The process continued in small, awkward stages. Shoes. Socks. Shirts. The occasional nervous laugh. Neither acknowledged how long it was taking.

Claire folded each piece of clothing with meticulous care and stacked everything neatly on the passenger seat.

Jake watched for a moment. “You’re folding?”

Claire didn’t look up. “Yes.”

“We’re standing in the woods preparing for recreational nudity and folding is your priority?”

She placed another item on the pile. “If a bear eats us, I want media to find I was not messy.”

For a second there was silence. Then Jake barked out a laugh. The sound escaped him so suddenly that Claire started laughing too.

——————

They put on lot of sunscreens and even more bug spray — a combination that worked somehow. Earlier they had thought of wearing sandals, but then decided shoes would be better.

The first few steps onto the trail were awful. Every movement felt noticeable. Every breeze felt personal. Every rustle of leaves sounded suspiciously like an approaching witness.

Claire crossed her arms instinctively. Her shoulders curled inward. Ahead of her, Jake glanced back.

His expression balanced somewhere between concern and amusement. “You okay?”

“I feel like a peeled shrimp.”

Jake laughed again. Then he slowed until she caught up. Without saying anything, he reached for her hand. “We’re both peeled shrimp.”

Chapter 5

Till the first break they avoided looking at each other. By the time first glimpses of the lake was visible through the trees it had become easier.

Claire felt sun on her shoulders. The breeze around her bare hips was not feeling funny anymore.

Jake’s stride too had become loose and easy. Both were now peeking glances at each other.

Both had seen each other naked many times — heck they had sex every time one visited the other. But never seen each other like this – and never outdoors.

Jake’s erection was a stubborn thing. Standing at attention like an awkward flagpole. Claire caught him shifting his weight from foot to foot, his hands hovering near his hips like he couldn’t decide whether to cover himself or let it be.

“This is bullshit,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “It’s been twenty minutes. This isn’t – ” He gestured vaguely downward, his face flushing. “It’s not supposed to do this.”

Claire bit her lip to keep from laughing, partly because she knew it would piss him off, partly because the sight of him – tanned shoulders tense, one arm slung across his stomach like he was trying to hold himself together – struck her as unbearably sweet.

“You look good,” she offered, stepping closer.

“Do I?” Jake groaned. “I slouch. Not even in 30s and there’s already a beer belly forming and I don’t even drink beer.” He jabbed a finger at his stomach, where a soft curve disrupted the otherwise lean line of him. “I mean I don’t drink enough to deserve this”.

Claire snorted. “Well look at me,” she said, twisting slightly to showcase thighs that no longer had a gap and breasts that gravity had begun to gently reclaim. “My boobs are drooping at the ripe age of twenty-six. My ass looks like someone inflated it with a bike pump.”

“But you look so good, Claire. Why do you think I have an erection right now.” He sounded genuinely surprised.

A startled laugh burst out of her even if she found his answer really sweet.

——————

They started a game. Roasting themselves. May be to reduce awkwardness. May be because it was fun. Likely because they both knew how they truly looked.

Claire jabbed a finger at her own thigh. “Look at this – it’s like someone slapped two uncooked chicken cutlets together and covered it with cellulite.”