Chilling

Happy New Year.

2020 has been an excuse for me to do very little - just obeying the rules.

But Running Girl has still invited me on her weekly dip all year. Curly and The Girl Next Door have also issued invites, some of which I’ve accepted and others that I’ve neatly side-stepped. No matter how many times I get into that cold water, it never gets easier or begins to feel like something ‘I do.’ It’s a shocker and for all the documentation that this is really good for you, the drive to freeze my butt off is not as strong as the desire to drive in the opposite direction.
Last night Running Girl asked if I fancied a wee walk up to the Half Ben Lochan for an extra special dip. Recently I’d abandoned the swimsuit for wetsuit, wetsuit socks, shoes, gloves and as much full body cover as is practicable. However dragging all that halfway up The Ben didn’t seem worth it.
Climbing Kev enquired whether we intended to swim a breadth of the lochan or a length? Running Girl suggested 3 full strokes would suffice and I murmured that 1 massive stroke was more than likely.

But who can resist Running Girls enthusiasm for a wee bit of purposeful trial and tribulation. And what a beautiful day for it. Warm in the sun but treacherous underfoot. Strolling up the Ben Path just now is not really recommended. Careful steps up and even more careful ones down. However I was so warm I really did believe I was getting in that lochan.

Until we walked over the crest of the moor to be hit with the north wind and arctic conditions. And joy of joy - a frozen lochan.

I did try…..

There was no way I was taking my clothes off in that chill wind anyway - but Running Girl would have been in there if she’d found a snow hole big enough.
We looked for a sunny spot for lunch instead.

Here, I could prove my commitment to the swim. At least I’d put my cozzy on in good faith. As had she -

Thankfully we’d got our clothes on before the couple and their dog walked round the corner.

Running Girl still needed her swim though. So when we drove past The Roaring Mill in the lower region of the river Nevis, we had to get in the water. For me - up to my knees. For RG it was her 3 full strokes in water that sucked the breath out of her. There is stuff documented about the benefits of chilling your knees and that’s good enough for me. My knees feel wonderful now.
Meanwhile Spook took a run over Banavie Hill to Drumfada and got himself a wee Brocken Spectre.

Here’s to 2021 and whatever we can make of it