You may say the story
below has nothing to do with PAC. I say
it has everything to do with PAC…where people gather and great ideas emerge…
Fremont Lake
Swim
My
Perspective…
Although Stephen Crane and John Kelly have written about
this epic swim in the August 12th ROUNDUP, and the August 16th
EXAMINER, here is my story:
Sometimes a person gets involved in an effort that seems
casual and non-chalant at the start. And
then, it becomes obvious that it is not as casual and non-chalant as one first
thought…
On August 7, 2016, John Kelly and David Rule entered Fremont
Lake with the intent to swim its length.
This all happened through friendly conversation at PAC, when
a number of us “opted in” to be support for John’s 9 mile swim. After all, a day on the lake in summer is
typically glorious. And as a lifetime
lover of all things water, it was not a hard sell for me. To kayak my way gently down the lake,
accompanying a swimmer, seemed a day of un-hurried bliss, actually.
I began planning my gear storage for my kayak, in order to stash
the myriad of necessary supplies.
Realizing that I would also need to accommodate food for my swimmer, I
planned to have extra. Not yet equipped
with a dry bag for my kayak, I set about borrowing the gear I needed. My new spray skirt had just arrived, so I
knew I would keep paddle splash at bay.
An extra daypack of supplies and clothes was stowed on the roving
pontoon boat that would check on us occasionally. I felt so ready.
On the day… it soon
became obvious that David Rule was the only other brave swimmer who would
join John in this ambitious goal. And,
at 6am Sunday morning, at Lakeside Lodge, having driven there amidst thick
clouds, rain and lightning, it did not look promising. Phones were checked for weather
forecasts. It seemed in less than an
hour, a “window” of clear weather was predicted by the fore-casters. We would have decent, maybe nice weather for
about 4 hours before another storm was predicted to roll in. Jason Essington assured us that lightning
would not “get us.” We all felt
better….sort of.
Nathan puts on a brave face....
John and David and all us support folks (a majority of whom were volunteer PAC Staff) agreed to “go for
it.” Down the lake we went in 2 pontoon
boats, kayak on board, to start from the north end of Fremont Lake. We fought waves and wind on the trip north
and kept our eyes upward to catch any indication that the sky was
clearing. As we approached the inlet of
the lake and its accompanying beautiful steep and close-up rocky shores, the
water calmed and a slice of sun came through.
We got happy.
Jumping out of the pontoons, we re-grouped on the sand. The swimmers dawned their caps and goggles, we
had a cheer, even a “coffee toast.” I
got in my kayak, donned in layers, lifejacket, head coverage, radio, and paddle
at the ready.
After a handshake, and almost anti-climactically, John and David slipped silently into the 63 degree water and began their 9 mile challenge.
It was only then that I thought: I am in this to the end. It is my job to watch David for ? hours, to
watch for signs of fatigue, of hypothermia, of cramping, of……? What if I have to go to the bathroom? What if I get a cramp sitting here for, who
knew, how many hours?
I decided to take these questions one at a time…as they emerged. First things first. David was swimming Fremont Lake! (&
so was John though I could no longer see him…)
After 20 minutes or so of determining how close I should paddle to
David, whether on his left, his right, or several boat lengths ahead of him, I
tried them all. I did not want to get
too close to him that he would hit the boat, yet wanted him to be able to see
me when he rolled to breathe, or looked up.
After experimenting a while, David looked up long enough for he and I to
talk briefly about where we were headed down the lake. We determined our point of destination,
identifying shore landmarks to assist in aiming straight and not
meandering. He showed no preference as
to where I was in reference to him. He
was focused on keeping his rhythm. And,
rhythm it was. As time passed, his
consistent freestyle stroke set up a very predictable water beat. I allowed it to seep into me and discovered I
was humming or singing to that rhythm and finding my breath within its
cadence.
Paddling within the rhythm of David’s swim stroke was a very
peaceful experience. Being absolutely
present in the sights, sounds and physicality of the moment was deeply
satisfying. I was focused on right where
I was, nothing else.
We went along for some time like this. The partly sunny skies made for glassy water
for a short time, which gradually turned into small surface ripples. As more time passed and we were two-thirds
down the lake, passed the campground, and now along the part of the shore less
dramatic and with less vegetation, we experienced more of a steady breeze. The clouds were building as we looked toward
the south end of the lake.
Somewhere from the beginning until now, David had paused
ever so slightly at two different times to swallow down a banana and ½ a
granola bar.
We maintained this consistent, comfortable (at least for me) rhythm even though the
wind and weather appeared to be changing…
Thunder was heard and some large streaks of lightening were
unmistakable in the southern sky. And,
somewhere in here, David and I both agreed to press on.
Suffice it to say that things began to get tough. We had migrated reasonably close to the east
shore of the lake. This decision at
first seemed reassuring, until the wind grew so strong, and the waves so
challenging that I found myself pushed into a big rock about 10 feet from
shore. I knew, in a split second, that I
had no options. If I stayed pushed up
against this rock, the waves would tip me.
I also knew there was no way to get out of the lake at this rocky
location. Knowing that delaying my
decision would only put me in further danger, I summoned up the necessary
energy burst to turn my bow back into the waves and force my kayak into the
relentless wave surge. I paddled harder
than I thought I could to get back out into the lake and onto riding the
whitecaps as they plowed straight into and over the bow of my kayak. The spray skirt, that was experiencing its
pioneer voyage, was leaking somewhere, but I had no time to pause and adjust
it. My hands were glued to my paddle….for
letting go would have meant my paddle would be lost.
During my efforts to avoid tipping, I had momentarily lost
David in the waves.
I was just close enough to the roving pontoon boat to yell
to them, “where is David?!” (There was
no way I could release my paddle long enough to call them on the radio…) Since voices were usually lost to the wind,
they wisely pointed to where they saw David swimming in the water. I knew they had him in their sights and he
was okay. With that, I continued to
paddle for all I had.
I have no idea how much time passed as we were engulfed in
the storm’s intensity.
And, it sounds surreal, and felt like it too, but the
‘silver lining’ in this story slowly began to happen.
Just above Lakeside Lodge a sliver of light, almost blue
sky, was visible. Though the wind was
still horrendous, we could see that this difficulty would end. The shore was emerging. That gave us both the hope and energy we
needed to kick in and finish strong.
Within 200 yards from the shore of Sandy Beach the water
returned to calm. The sky opened and
cleared. Friends and family with
blankets and hot chocolate stood ready on Sandy Beach.
David had made a 9 mile swim in 5 hours and 40 minutes. I had had the pleasure and unforeseen
adventure of accompanying him on this epic journey.
It was a great day.
When Stephen Crane interviewed me afterwards, saying how
hard it must have been, I remember telling him, “Yes, it was…and I would
definitely do it again!”
Some adventures surprise you, some delight you, this one
inspired me, and I’m better because of it.
I look forward to more community ventures to share in…to
experience with a group of like-minded people the great natural wonders we are
so blessed with. From young to old (David is 19 and I’m 62), our community
is rich in its human resources; and we are surrounded by extraordinary natural resources
that beckon us to participate in the discovery of ourselves.
The day was over. But the memory is strong.
I raise my cup to a new toast:
“Here’s to living fully….and to encouraging one another to
not be afraid of what lies ahead…!”
We’re limited only by our imaginations.
Let’s take the plunge!
For
the emerging idea and for putting it into action….I thank my friends at PAC…especially
my friend, and PAC patron, John Kelly.
JJ Huntley
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