D.E. WHITE | CIN WEEKLY CORRESPONDENT

We're stalling, of course. Like nervous little kids frozen at the edge of a diving board, we've come too far to go back, but we're struggling to find the courage to jump.

After 20 minutes of hemming and hawing, we make a toast with a cheap bottle of chardonnay, and take the proverbial plunge and walk outside.

We scurry down a flight of stairs in full view of everyone on the volleyball court and make a beeline for the front lawn, which is packed with bronzed bodies of all shapes and sizes. We quickly throw down towels and do our best to sink into the well-manicured grass.

For the first time in either of our lives, we're naked in public.

We're here at Paradise Gardens, the Cincinnati area's only nudist resort, to learn about the members of this unique Colerain Township community. Who are they? How did they get involved? What does nudism do for them? And where the hell is this Hawaiian Luau we keep hearing about?

But it's not just journalistic curiosity that's fueling our interest in this 35-acre gated retreat; we're also here to challenge ourselves. We're not prudes, but then again, we're both 28, and neither of us has ever gone skinny-dipping.

This sad realization dawns on me as intense sun rays start scalding body parts that I didn't know I had. I'm stewing in self-consciousness, remembering the horrific nude-in-history-class nightmares that used to haunt me.

The anxiety doesn't lift until I take some deep breaths and sit up to survey my surroundings. Thankfully, nobody's staring at us or laughing at my pale privates.

It seems the diverse collective is too busy participating in the same activities you'd find at any other resort or campground: reading, grilling, chatting, swimming, hiking, fishing, relaxing. The only people concerned with our nudity is, well, us.

As this becomes more and more obvious the longer we're out here, I decide it's time to do some interviews.

NAKED KNOWLEDGE

The first person we meet with is Dave, president of Paradise Gardens. "You'll never forget your first experience at a nudist resort," he says as I futilely try to focus on taking notes instead of the fact that I'm sitting across from a buck-naked stranger and my buck-naked girlfriend. "The odd person here is the person with their clothes on. Once you're up here a few hours, man looks like man and woman looks like woman."

Dave knows more about birthday suits than anyone I've ever met. He rattles off random stats and tidbits about "the lifestyle" with reckless abandon. This 55-year-old fountain of nudist knowledge is a Paradise Gardens fixture. He's been around here for decades and lives on site with his wife Sharon. They frequently visit other resorts and attend conferences sponsored by the American Association for Nude Recreation and the Midwest Sunbathing Association.

"At any nudist resort in the country, you'll find that people are very friendly," he says. "It's not unusual for people to come up and say hi. They want to make you feel welcome."

He's not kidding.

As Sue and I walk around the scenic camp, a couple from Milford offers us a steak dinner, while others request our presence on the "Bare Bird" volleyball court. And, yes, we're also asked to play naked cornhole. (Insert joke here.)

NAKED & LOVING IT

Deb, a marketing professional, even volunteers to golf-cart us around so we can see each and every amenity. She joined Paradise Gardens three years ago and visits several times a week with her family. "I feel like when I come here I'm shedding my skin," says Deb, 48, the resort's "nudesletter" editor. "When I take my clothes off, everything goes off with it. I forget about my job. I forget about my problems. I lose everything."

She says becoming a nudist helped her overcome a poor body image, too. "My overall confidence has grown," she says. "When you're comfortable with yourself naked, you're definitely more comfortable with yourself clothed."

Deb also enjoys the cross section of people who belong to this largely misunderstood community. "Financial status, what they have, what they wear - all of that's left in their cars," she says. "None of that matters. We're all just skin and bone. We're all equal here."

For the next few hours, nearly everyone we meet - whether they're young or old, cop or hairstylist - echoes similar sentiments. They want it known that this place is about personal freedom, not sex. The members look out for each other and say they're dedicated to fostering a safe, fun environment.

DANCES WITH NUDES

As the sun goes down, Sue and I go back to the loft to reflect upon our experience and get ready for tonight's special event, a clothing-optional luau in the clubhouse.

We decide to change back into the pile of garments on the bed. We've come a long way today, but being au naturel in front of anyone who's dressed is just too much to ask.

Inside the clubhouse, most of the women are in grass skirts and leis, while some of the guys are wearing T-shirts, but no pants. The DJ's spinning everything from '70s dance tunes to the Black Eyed Peas and Chingy.

It's getting late and I want to gather more quotes before we head home. I start talking with a man and his 18-year-old son.

"This is a place to come and have some fun," says "C.," the son. "I like the openness. You have to experience it to get a true feeling for what it is. In the movies, these places are like big sex camps, but sex and nudity are two different things."

"It's about freedom from the outside world," adds "G.," the dad. "There's a lot less judging here. What you see is what you get."

As the conversation turns to nude cruises, the DJ plays an awful slow song by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow. From the corner of my eye, I see a completely naked older gentleman ask Sue to dance.

Twelve hours ago this would have freaked me out. Big time. But tonight I'm OK with it. After all, she's not dancing with some weirdo. The guy is simply a nudist.

Just like me.