"Waterlog" has also been lying around our house... The book by wild swimmer enthusiast Roger Deakin, charts his swimming journey across Britain, starting in his own moat.
All this has provided rich fodder for my wildly imaginative, and swimming loving mind, (and spirit). I have told Steve such material is potentially dangerous in my hands, who knows where it will lead me?
Well for a start, to the sprouting of the little seed of an idea, to explore and document the wild swimming possibilities of South East Devon... our first one being today.
Yesterday keen to start exploring these swimming spots, we went to Spitchwick, a spot along the River Dart near Ashburton. It was beautiful, with lots of sun warmed grassy areas by the almost black water. Consequently, there were lots of people there though... so in search of the ultimate wild swimming experience, we went to Newbridge, ( a different spot on the Dart) to try our luck. First we played some frisbee.
At Newbridge, we found a good spot, and I waded up to my knees, but the river was moving so fast, I was a little, (intelligently so) nervous about going in, and decided against it. Opting for a few concessional submersive dunks instead.
Today I was so wanting a swim, but with all Dartmoors recent rain, the rivers are swollen and running very fast... so we needed a pond, a lake... a disused quarry!?Steve had heard about this place, near Haytor... the rock for the old London Bridge was quarried here, but now the hole in the ground, was filled with blooming heather, and... water! We couldn't find anyone who had actually heard of someone swimming there, but it looked promising.
There were loads of ramblers out today, despite the cold wind, and periodic misty rain.
After climbing Haytor, and almost being pushed off by the driving winds, we found some wurtleberries, (wild blueberries). We picked a large handful and ate them as we made our way to the quarry.
The deep walls of the quarry sheltered its insides somewhat, and it was a quiet haven.We surveyed the area...
*Good entry points, with gently sloping rocks
*Deep areas for uninhibited swimming
*Fish and aquatic vegetation denoting, (hopefully), good water quality
It was so beautiful, swimming nirvana really...
We changed into our swimmers, and the ramblers milled around the edge, watching us in their rain jackets and long pants, waiting, waiting...
We dove in, and arrr what a delight- the warmest water so far!!!!
Much warmer than the sea, and certainly more warm than the rivers.
We explored each little pool, and swam and swam. It was much warmer in than out.
As Deakin puts it:
"Natural water has always held the magical power to cure. Somehow or other, it transmits its own self-regenerating powers to the swimmer. I can dive in with a long face and what feels like a terminal case of depression, and come out a whistling idiot. There is a feeling of absolute freedom and wildness that comes with the sheer liberation of nakedness as well as near weightlessness in natural water, and it leads to a deep bond with the bathing-place."
Arr yes, we weren't whistling, but we were certainly smiling idiots.
Such a strange thing, in this age of swimming pools and keep out signs, it somehow feels illicit,(and largely thus, incredibly enlivening), to just swim in a 'wild' and natural place...
We changed into our swimmers, and the ramblers milled around the edge, watching us in their rain jackets and long pants, waiting, waiting...We dove in, and arrr what a delight- the warmest water so far!!!!
Much warmer than the sea, and certainly more warm than the rivers.
We explored each little pool, and swam and swam. It was much warmer in than out.
As Deakin puts it:"Natural water has always held the magical power to cure. Somehow or other, it transmits its own self-regenerating powers to the swimmer. I can dive in with a long face and what feels like a terminal case of depression, and come out a whistling idiot. There is a feeling of absolute freedom and wildness that comes with the sheer liberation of nakedness as well as near weightlessness in natural water, and it leads to a deep bond with the bathing-place."
Arr yes, we weren't whistling, but we were certainly smiling idiots.
Such a strange thing, in this age of swimming pools and keep out signs, it somehow feels illicit,(and largely thus, incredibly enlivening), to just swim in a 'wild' and natural place...
No comments:
Post a Comment