How to be a northern nudist
LINDBROOK, ALTA.— In the middle of rural Alberta, known for frigid winters and conservatism, a hidden community spends every summer in the buff.
Helios Nudist Association, less than an hour’s drive east of Edmonton near Tofield, Alta., is billed as North America’s northernmost nudist camp.
Many live there in cabins or trailers for the bulk of May through September, but they can put clothes on when it’s cold.
It’s been 40 years since the group bought its 22 acres of land. It formed in 1964 and purchased its current space in 1978, with members privately owning separate plots at the time. Its ranks have fluctuated, peaking at close to 200 in 2010 and currently sitting at around 115.
In 1994, the membership collectively purchased the property from the last private member, making this year Helios’ 25th anniversary as an official “landed” nudist club.
“To us it’s a little piece of paradise,” said Mike Porter, who joined the organization with his wife nine years ago.
“People are trying to get away from the city life, away from the stress of what I would call ‘everyday conservative’ type life, and being able to express themselves.”
Helios — nestled in the trees next to a commercial campground, behind a security camera trained on a locked gate — is a few kilometres east of a Bible camp. It’s home to lush greenery, nature trails and wildlife, including hummingbirds and the occasional deer.
Porter lives in Edmonton, but said many members are rural farmers or residents of nearby small towns.
“We’ve had priests out here, we have had some government officials at different times out here,” he said. “You get a wide variety of people.”
He said nudists still face a strong stig- ma from outsiders, with some assuming Helios is some type of secret sex club.
“Confidentiality is a big thing for all nudists, because you never know whose job is possibly on the line because of it.”
Porter has worked at the same auto industry job for more than four decades and says he feels safe talking publicly about his nudist life, calling it a wholesome environment.
His 40-year-old son has a lot at Helios, and his daughter comes out for visits with her husband and their kids. One woman, who asked not to be named because she fears for her job, said she hopes her 8-year-old son will be more comfortable with his own body image as he grows up because of Helios.
While we chatted, her son, wearing a bathrobe, played fetch with the family dog, and her husband, fully nude, casu- ally cooked shish kebabs on the barbecue. He referred to himself as a redneck as he tossed me a can of Budweiser.
Leo Desnoyers, a former heavy equipment operator who handles booking and memberships, was with his 2- and 5-year-old granddaughters the day I stopped in. The kids painted flowerpots and frolicked on the playground while we talked. And yes, all of this took place while they were naked.
Desnoyers said Helios has always been family-oriented, and it bothers him when others assume the opposite.
“We don’t put up with creepy people. At all,” he said.
Helios is run as a mostly self-sustaining co-operative. Members maintain their own water, gas, electricity and sewage, and have obtained some cabins and washroom shacks through a business partnership with a nearby Hutterite community.
“Ninety per cent of the stuff here, we do ourselves.”
One longtime member invited me into his cabin and put on a VHS tape with recordings of news interviews he did in the 1990s, when the demographic at Helios skewed much younger. Today, it’s mostly couples in their 50s and older.
“I’m thinking it’s a possibility that we’re not necessarily — this may be a bad choice of words — exposing ourselves to the younger generation as much,” Porter said.
The Helios board voted to hand out pamphlets at the Edmonton Pride Parade this year to reach a more diverse demographic, but not everyone was happy about it.
Some expressed concerns that a cascade of college students on day passes wanting to party could disturb the peace. Others have reservations about welcoming more members of the LGBTQ community, though they have had gay couples before.
Porter, however, is eager to pass the torch. He said at least two people have called after getting pamphlets at Pride, and he expects to hear from more.
“Everybody has a right to enjoy the lifestyle, and we want to try and promote the lifestyle.”
Donna Morlidge, who joined last summer, told me she was too nervous to take her robe off the first time she visited. The second day she went topless, and the third day fully nude. After that, she never looked back.
“There’s no judgment,” she said, floating naked as we chatted.
“In the real world, you’re wearing your clothes, and everybody’s looking at what you’re wearing and the brands you’re wearing. Here, you just come out and you’re just free. You don’t worry about anything — and no laundry.”