Meetings of the Like-Minded : Got an Interest? There’s Probably a Club That Can Put You in Touch With Other Enthusiasts

Hobbyists and armchair enthusiasts take note. Whether you shudder with excitement at the possibility of racing pigeons or searching for water with divining rods, whether you need the emotional support of other mothers of twins or find that sunbathing in the buff suits--or maybe unsuits--your interests, there’s probably a club for you in the San Fernando Valley.

The Yellow Pages include listings for a Rod & Reel Club, Mayflower Club, Tall Club, Westlake Yacht Club and Organization of Istanbul Armenians, among others. Here, for those looking for something new, unusual or out of the ordinary, is a brief sampling.

Seeing double is nothing new to June Spahr. Since she gave birth 3 1/2 years ago, she has had identical twin boys to care for. “It’s time-consuming and hectic to have twins,” she said. “With one child, you can get some rest; with two infants you never get a break.” That’s why Spahr, of Granada Hills, joined the San Fernando Valley Mothers of Twins Club.

The organization--which has about 75 members, including a few grandmothers with 40-year-old children--meets at least once a month and offers additional workshops and speakers, covering topics from toilet training to keeping youths off drugs. There are also occasional outings and events for the husbands and children, and the group donates money, food and supplies to local charities, including Care Cottage, a Van Nuys shelter for homeless and abused women.

“It’s primarily a support group,” said Spahr, vice president of the club and herself a twin. “It’s especially helpful for women who have newborn twins or are pregnant with twins. They tend to be overwhelmed by the experience. Just to see all these other women who have survived it, who have kids that are 3 or 4 years old is a big help.”

During a recent meeting in West Hills, about 35 members were busy trading gossip, news and advice. “It makes things a lot less stressful,” said Barbara Wachter, a Granada Hills resident with 3 1/2-year-old twins.

Wachter, whose boy and girl were born prematurely, has received help and reassurance from club members.

“This is a great group,” said Jan Veis, a Northridge resident who has three children, including 5-year-old twin girls. “It’s great to share things with people who can relate to you. . . . Having twins is a special privilege. They interact in a way other children do not.

“They are instant best friends when they are not gouging each other’s eyeballs out.”

San Fernando Valley Mothers of Twins Club, P.O. Box 644, Northridge, 91328; (818) 784-8824. Dues are $20 a year.

“A lot of people think nude is lewd, but it’s not. It’s just a natural state,” said Peggy, who asked that her real name not be used. “There’s nothing worse than a wet bathing suit.”

That pretty much sums up the philosophy of Au Naturel, a Valley nudist club. More than 150 members--ranging in age from 18 to 70--belong to the group, which typically holds three or four events a month. There are trips to nudist resorts, camping trips and dinners in restaurants as well as in private homes. Members come from all walks of life. Lawyers, engineers, librarians and actors belong to the organization.

Rob, who also asked that his real name not be used, lives in Canoga Park and edits the organization’s newsletter. He found out about Au Naturel after picking up a guide to nude beaches and recreation spots at a bookstore. “I like being in the company of other nude people,” he said. “This club is great. There’s a lot of camaraderie; we sit around and socialize, sometimes we play games of Trivial Pursuit or do other fun activities.”

At a recent meeting, Rob sat in the living room of the host’s home wearing absolutely nothing. Around the room, a half dozen other members--some dressed, some not--were busy socializing. A handful of people sat in a Jacuzzi in the back yard.

Au Naturel members contend that their interest in social nudity is often misunderstood. “This is not a dating club, it’s not a swinging club,” Rob said emphatically. “When people ask me, ‘Why do you go nude?’ I ask them, ‘Why do you watch basketball? Why do you play golf?’ It’s simply something I enjoy doing.”

Added Peggy, who works as a bank loan officer and lives in Granada Hills: “We are average people. We’re not movie stars or centerfolds. Many are overweight, others have scars. This is just an ordinary social club with people who happen to go nude at events.”

Au Naturel, P.O. Box 323, Reseda, 91335. Dues are $15 a year.

When most people want water, they turn on the faucet, and when they want minerals, they eat their spinach or a vitamin. But not dowsers. Using divining rods--usually fork-shaped devices that can be made of wood, metal or plastic--dowsers locate broken pipes, gold, lost jewels, even missing people, according to Alvin Kaufman, a retired aerospace engineer who serves as president of the Southern California Chapter of the American Society of Dowsers.

Kaufman, who became interested in dousing 25 years ago, describes it as an art that dates back about 25,000 years, when cave drawings depicted the use of a forked twig.

He’s well aware that many people would group dousing with ESP experiments and Ouija boards. “If you talk to the average scientist, you will generally get a response of disbelief,” Kaufman said. “But dowsing is about 90 to 98% accurate in the hands of somebody who has natural ability and experience.”

The national organization lists 3,000 members; about 30 dousing enthusiasts belong to the local chapter and attend quarterly meetings, lectures, discussions, movies and field trips. According to Kaufman, a few master dowsers in the organization are occasionally hired to find water and are paid $250 or more for their efforts if they succeed.

Southern California Chapter of the American Society of Dowsers, 22420 Philiprimm St., Woodland Hills, 91367; (818) 340-8945. Dues are $6 a year.

Pigeon racing may seem unusual, but as longtime enthusiast Art Hees says, “There’s horse racing, there’s dog racing, so why not pigeons?”

Hees is one of 72 members of the San Fernando Valley Racing Pigeon Club, the largest of an estimated 20,000 clubs nationally that have taken the feathery sport under their wing. The club, which has its headquarters in Sun Valley, holds 30 races a year, including an annual “Snowbird” classic in mid-November that offers a first prize of $25,000. Club members regard it as the Kentucky Derby of pigeon racing.

“This is a very sophisticated sport,” said Ben Benson, who lives in Shadow Hills and has been racing pigeons for three years. “It can run into a lot of money, but it can also be a lot of fun.”

Maintaining a flock can cost several thousand dollars a year, club members say. Top birds, which are carefully bred, typically sell for $500 to $5,000. “They are like finely tuned athletes,” Hees said. Enthusiasts whose birds participate in a race must purchase a special tamper-proof computerized clock, which sells for $350 and is capable of transferring data into a personal computer at the club’s headquarters.

On one Saturday night, just 10 hours before a race, club members carried their birds (some enter as many as 20 in a race) into a warehouse inside the club’s headquarters. One leg of each bird was fitted with a numbered “countermark.” They were loaded into a truck, which transported the pigeons to a release site in Tulare. At the peak of the activity, frenzied men dashed around the room like bees around a hive. Off to one side, several men tried frantically to capture an escaped pigeon. They eventually succeeded.

At 6:30 the next morning, 900 birds were released from the San Joaquin Valley site. (Other towns on the circuit include Delano, Fresno, Merced, Modesto, Stockton, Woodland, Marysville, Red Bluff Redding and Klamath Falls, Ore.) Averaging 50 m.p.h., the pigeons flew back to their lofts, where their owners removed the countermarks and inserted them into a special slot in the clock. Once all the birds were in, members returned to the club and fed the data into the computer, which tabulated the results.

But it’s not necessarily the first bird back that’s the winner. Members pay $3 for a geological survey to determine the exact distance from each release point. That’s factored into the equation to determine which bird flew the route the fastest. The results are printed out and distributed, and trophies are handed out at a banquet at the end of the season.

Marty Ladin, a 60-year-old Sepulveda resident who has been racing pigeons for 30 years and maintains a flock of 200, says: “It’s a hobby and a sport.” And while he readily admits that it’s difficult to win a race, “that’s not what it’s all about.”

Added Hees, a Sepulveda resident who has been racing since age 13: “I love the competition, it gets in your blood. It’s not really a social club, but a lot of us are very good friends. We have a great time.”

San Fernando Valley Racing Pigeon Club, 9008 Laurel Canyon Blvd., Sun Valley, 91352; (818) 768-1675. Dues are $50 a year.