August 7th, 9:30pm
Wind: from S 2.4 m/sec (5 mph)
Air Temperature:23.3 °C (74 °F)
Water Temperature: 24.08 °C (75 °F)
Today at the lake it was very chill, except for the parking lot. There were three cars parked sort of crooked, adn their young male owners were blasting some sort of thump music. I asked them what it was, but the young man kept saying that he didn’t speak English. I was too shy to attempt Spanish, but eventually, he understood that I wanted to know who the musician was. (No photos or GPS tracking today; I was too tired and left my phone in the car. The photo here is from yesterday.)
He didn’t know, but found the category on his phone and showed it to me, “afro.” I thanked him and walked toward the beach, making a mental not to visit my Apple Music to learn more about this music because I’m not sure “afro” in 2024 is the same as “afro” from my childhood in the 70s.
The lake looked empty. No paddle boarders, no swimmers, just a lot of geese. I changed into my suit underneath my towel. After four years of lake swimming I am an expert at undressing and dressing under a towel. There was a man leaning up against the wall, and I could hear him talking about trying to get into the water. I noticed his lower legs were misshapen and quite swollen. I wondered what would cause that.
I have seen him here before. He’s what people might consider “disheveled” and maybe odd. But that’s never stopped me from talking to a stranger.
On my way to the water I stopped and asked him if he had been swimming. He said it was too cold and he couldn’t bear to lower his body into the water. I told him that when I first started swimming in the lake it took me a long time to figure out how to do it and even longer to feel comfortable. We chatted a bit, and I tried to support his efforts, telling him to just try one minute at a time. One of the things I have noticed around physical activity is that it can seem overwhelming and too hard for some people. I always want to give people credit for trying and let them know that they can progress in their own sweet time.
We said our goodbyes, and I waded into the water. It felt cool against my legs. It’s always cooler at night. I think it must have been close to 8pm.
Nobody was in the swim area, so I took my time swimming out to the deep water, then decided to swim back and forth between the rope and the cement dock. I was too tired, too hot, too exhausted from stress to swim out of the area. Instead I tried to swim slowly, coordinating my breathe and movements as if I was doing water yoga.
The Jerk was still in my head after another run-in with him earlier in the evening. I was composing letters to him as I traversed the swim area. Then I tried to put him out of my head and focus on swimming. I took the advice I gave to the man I met: one minute at a time. The milfoil was a good distraction. I could see little bright green buds forming at the ends of stalks. Most of them seemed to have a dark brown color stretching from beginning of the new tendril to just about an inch of green at the ends. Is this normal? It is diseased? Why would it be icky brown with what looks like a healthy green tip? Just swim. Just breathe.
Occasionally I felt tendrils brushing against my thighs and arms, but the water was deep enough that I mostly cleared the weeds. Once I saw a quick flash that must have been a fish in retreat. I would really love to see some fish. It has been a couple weeks since I swam through a huge school of 4” long fish.
And it feels like it’s been a year or two since I last saw a huge fish, like 18” long. Where are they? The water was so quiet today. There were still some motorized boats in the distance causing wakes to undulated through the swim area, and I saw the tugboat in the distance.
I often see the tugboat pushing a huge barge with piles of dirt on it when I swim later in the evening. Seems like an ideal job to be on the water when it’s still light out but the traffic has died down. I looked up in the sky and noticed a hot air balloon in the distance. I always love seeing those. They make me think of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. I don’t think I’d like to try a hot air balloon ride. I’d be afraid that I’d jump out. Because I don’t know why, but I think I need to stay on land or in the water. I do not like heights, and I really hate flying.
Just as I was starting to cross the swim area, a group of geese crossed my path. I stopped swimming and let them pass because I wasn’t sure if they would see me and move or if I would run into them. Best not to mess with them. It’s funny seeing so many geese at the lake. I don’t remember them being here other summers.
I swam over the milfoil to the other side of teh swim area, then turned around to swim back to the dock. I swam over a dirty and algae-covered orange underwater buoy/bulb. I’m not sure what it marks. Maybe it’s the east edge of the swim area? Maybe it’s an old and unused marker? It makes me a little bit sad that it’s faded and dirty. Someone should be looking after it. I would do that if the parks department wanted me to. I love writing reports.
I practiced putting my arms at my sides and kicking, trying to isolate and work my leg muscles. Then I got bored with that and returned to my breast stroke. I made it back to the cement dock just as another swimmer suddenly appeared on the other side of the rope. I was really excited to see him because I hadn’t seen anyone in the water. “Where did you come from?” I asked him. “I came to save you,” he said. He climbed up the ladder and walked around the dock, then I swam off to do one more lap.
As I was leaving the water I noticed there were a couple strands of milfoil wrapped around my tow bag belt. I pulled them off. I stopped to chat with two guys on the beach I had seen swimming earlier. We compared notes on using a snorkel to avoid swallowing too much lake water.
Later I ran into the guy I met in the lake at the showers, and we chatted. I gave him my email address so he can get in touch to swim together. I think it’s more fun to swim with people even though everyone goes at their own pace and often in their own direction.
I didn’t bother to change into clothes, preferring to wrap a towel around my waist and pull on my sweaty t-shirt. I was going to shower again at home, so why get dressed.
Now I’m home, and it’s very nice that the temperatures drop when it gets dark. This heat is too much.