And It's Not Even September!

Day 315: For forty years or more, it has been my custom to have an annual bath in clear, cold water; a spiritual renewal, washing off "the dross of humanity," as I put it to friends. This ritual is generally performed in September, and may be conducted in an alpine tarn or in a pool in a mountain stream. On occasion, it has been done when pats of ice could be found floating on the surface or when fingers of snow reached across the meadows to the water. This process is generally prolonged until I start to feel the first touches of hypothermia creeping into my core, a call I have learned to make reliably. I go in naked as the day I was born, and emerge refreshed and invigorated (if cold), and because I prefer to drip-dry in the sun, these locations have to be very carefully selected. (I dressed for the photo, by the way.)

A couple of years ago, I was detailed to find a "lost" hydroelectric dam (defunct) in Mount Rainier National Park so that it could be removed from the Federal Register of dams. No one knew exactly where it was, and the vague directions I was given proved to be rather far off base, but given my eye for natural vs. altered forest, I was able to track it down. While there, I noticed that the catchment behind it looked like a good spot for my annual immersion, and I mentally bookmarked it for future reference.

The river you see here is glacial, literally. It is fed by meltwater from one of the Mountain's named glaciers. It has not travelled very far to reach this point, and therefore has not warmed much in transit. I made my way out to a three-foot deep pool without once cursing (rather amazing, that), submerged myself up to the neck and threw handsful of water into my hair. Two more trips were necessary in order to get a suitable self-portrait. I'd saved my britches out to put on for warmth in case I got too chilled, but as the afternoon warmed up, the wet shirt felt really good against my back. It was still damp when I got back to the car. Maybe only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun, but only Crows and polar bears go paddling in waters such as these!