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Nuding Out at Marshall Beach

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Baker Beach has some charm to it. Well, a lot of charm. It might even verge on the spectacular, what with that huge red bridge in full view. It has the thrust of Burning Man history behind it, a good crowd of pantsless, furry men, even (according to our friend Wikipedia) a rare plant, the Marin Dwarf Flax, growing along its shore. All-in-all, a sweet spot.

What it also has, though, is a hell of a lot of people, overflowing from Ocean Beach or looking to get a little exotic for the weekend. When last I paid a nighttime visit, two young ‘uns had switched their car’s brights on, gotten out, and were making out furiously on the sand, illuminated in extreme detail. It’s a great spot, and everyone knows it.

Lesser-known, though, is equally lovely, even more nudist Marshall Beach, where those in the know – and often in the buff – strip down amongst friends and very few strangers. The beach is absolutely hidden from the road, a five-minute amble North of Baker, and accessible by a fucking neverending set of stairs.

An added bonus, at least in my mind: Robin Williams lives kinda near here, right? Maybe if you time it right the man with the furriest arms around will decide to come out for a jog au natural.


Marshall Beach
Langdon Ct.

Photo Credit: Matt J. 

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Lucy Schiller - Destitute Dispatcher

Lucy Schiller - Destitute Dispatcher

Lucy's been able to live lots of places but holds her cornfed/pie-fueled Midwestern roots most dear, maintaining too loudly and too often that the Outer Richmond is the Midwest of SF: driven through to get elsewhere and knocked around for no reason (but what other neighborhood has bison?!). You can find Lucy letting things languish in her fridge, purposefully (limoncello!) or not (yogurt...), mouthbreathing, scouring Golden Gate Park for apartment-worthy items, sleepily serving up double nonfat half-caf-half-non-caf lattes at a certain cafe, skulking in various other ones, and yelling under cover of night and costume at SF Bike Party.