Julian LeMont

One of the reasons we used to love life in Las Vegas was the unique air of surreality of both its urban landscape and surrounding desert scenery, both unparalleled anywhere else in the world. Just before the peak of its urban boom and way before the days of distasteful overdevelopment, it was possible to enjoy Sin City’s 24/7 action, yet drive a mere 30 minutes out into the desert for total peace and solitude. Red Rock Canyon was not yet near the city limits, and Lake Mead actually had high levels of pristine drinking-quality water (and no, that was NOT in the 1970s). The Valley of Fire was a great day’s getaway, as it still is to some extent today. The rest, as we all know, has changed irreversibly, although it is still possible to escape into spectacular desert scenery for solitary moments, just further away than 30 minutes and with much more traffic. Being a relatively shy introvert at heart, I truly enjoyed weekly getaways to the magnificent Mojave Desert nearby and that included regular Sunday outings to the gay-friendly lakeshore areas of Lake Mead.

To avoid both crowds and sizzling summer heat, I used to leave town bright and early around 730am to drive Boulder Highway down to Lake Mead Drive in Henderson and then enter the Lake Mead National Recreation Area roughly where today’s Lake Las Vegas developments can be found. No Park Admission fees were charged back then either. Heading north on the Lakeside Highway towards Overton and the Valley of Fire, the view opened up to the lake itself and the multiple shades of the surrounding desert mountains flickering in the morning sun. After passing several washes about a few miles following the Sunrise Mountain/Lake Mead Blvd turn-off, a dirt road opened up towards the right, pointing the way down towards the lake shore across several miles of rough, almost 4-wheel-drive terrain.

The path ended in a parking lot with usually no single car yet arrived for the day and only the occasional overnight camper van to be seen. From here, depending on the water level, it was a 10 to 15 minute stroll to pristine lake water bliss, and to several trails in the surrounding shrubs, which used to get quite busy with cruising men later in the day. I thoroughly enjoyed the quiet and solitude early on a Sunday morning though, as it allowed me to lose track of time, meditate, swim and float on my air mattress watching the blue blue desert sky and the various shades of the mountains on the horizon. As the morning progressed, more nudist sun worshippers would arrive and the air of unspoilt peace would gradually give way to playful and distracting cruising rituals, not seldom culminating in happy endings. So in more ways than one, the heat would build and following a nice cold Coronita by the lake, it usually became necessary to escape by late lunchtime to avoid the scorching afternoon heat.

One Sunday morning, I had just set up base by the lakeside, updating my journal and watching some sailboats far away in the distance, when I noticed another car arrive with 2 studly guys in their 20s. A car this early on a Sunday was already unusual, but 2 hot guys getting ready to swim nude in the lake, now that almost felt like a mirage. They smilingly settled within close proximity to my towel, and my surprise knew no boundaries when I recognized the more built of the two as a regular pool player at our local gay hangouts in the Las Vegas “Fruit Loop”. I had previously been flirting with him on several occasions basking in his unrelenting sex appeal. Each time, the sexual energy between us was so intense and tangible, it got me rock hard just when our eyes met. No wonder his “sexalicious” aura, as it was dubbed by critics, was to lead him later to a remarkably successful gay porn carreer. His boyfriend, by contrast, was slender and less endowed but made up for it by good energy, his otherwise good looks and his uniquely friendly, personable nature.

Throughout that Sunday morning, I was no longer able to “meditate” and unwind, distracted as I was by my 2 new Sunday morning lake buddies. They brought chairs, and seeing my sexalicous hunk pose naked on the lounge chair with the backdrop of the lake and the desert mountains truly was priceless. Add to the scenic beauty the still unsubsidingly strong sexual energy between us, spilling over to and envelopping his boyfriend as well, it seemed like the onset of an unforgettable porn movie scene. Yet the increasing summer heat and occasional new arrivals kept us at bay.

When the sizzling desert heat reached its peak and our hunger for lunch and more became unbearable, we decided to leave together, drive back to Henderson to stop at a Taquería on Lake Mead Drive – a ritualized pilgrimage stop for many a lake visitor due to their magnificent tacos. Following lunch we then dropped off my car near UNLV to drive over to their apartment on the West Side near Sahara and Decatur, where over a period of timeless hours we we able to finally actualize our wildest visions so teasingly insinuated to by the lakeside.

All three of us shared a genuine passion for graphic detail, which made many a scene from that day both in and outdoors a truly spectacular sight memorable for a lifetime. And each time I go back to Lake Mead to seek solitude early on a Sunday morning, I see the spot where my nude sexalicious hunk posed in his chair and feel the same sexual energy fill the lake shore again. As I bask in the vast emptiness of the lake and desert, I increasingly understand that fulfillment and solitude/longing are but two sides of the same coin. In fact, they complement each other just as beautifully as the waters of Lake Mead and the desert mountains of Southern Nevada.