When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Go Swimming

It’s shaping up to be one busy summer. Between teaching pioneer summer camps, tending that enormous garden we planted in the Spring, hand watering for up to six hours at a time, and sometimes canning jam, I’ve been feeling plum worn out. As I stand out there watering in the dark some late evenings, I contemplate how it is that we moved out to the country for a different pace of life, but somehow this pace of life is seeming faster. When it comes down to it, all I want out of the summertime is slow mornings at home working in the garden, clothes drying on the line, lunches picked right out of the garden, and lots of swimming in the creek. Last week I decided that it was long past time for our family to acquaint ourselves with some good local swimming holes. We didn’t officially move out here from town until the end of last summer, so we’re still new to the local area. But, where to go? The reservoir is a little funky and has concrete and goose poop along the shore, not to mention it catches all the stormwater runoff for the entire city of Eugene. Ack! We’re only a half mile from a slow, muddy river, but our attempt to swim there one afternoon was thwarted by a dark cloud of mosquitoes like nothing I had ever seen. It was really bad. To be fair, I’m somewhat of a swimming hole snob. In all of my road trips and travels around the rivers and watersheds of Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and Montana , I have experienced some swimming hole excellence, resulting in lofty swimming hole ideals.

We decided to get out our Oregon Gazeteer topo-map, and explore the nearby watersheds in the coast range. We had luck! We found warm, lazy swimming holes, shady creeks with inviting pools to explore, sandy beaches, and big flat rocks. Jackpot!

We splashed, we played, we intertubed, and we just lay in the water and enjoyed relief from the sweltering heat of July. I realized we’d been working way too hard, and need to fit a lot more creek swimming into our lives. After all, isn’t that what summer memories are made up of?

I came across this cantankerous critter hanging out in the shallows in the morning sun. He was one enormous crawdaddy, and with visions of delicious stew for dinner, I grabbed him without really thinking it through. I didn’t think he could pinch all that hard, but I was so very wrong. He hung onto my finger for dear life, and drew blood! I decided that was that, and he was dinner for sure.

However, it was his lucky day. After finding none of his friends (he must have told them we were planning on crawdad stew), we decided that a one crustacean meal was a little thin, so we let him go. It did get me thinking about finding or making a crawdad trap, though. This crawdad and I may meet again, and next time he won’t be so lucky!

I couldn’t be more pleased with my new discovery. It’s so much easier getting through a long, hot day knowing that a cool, refreshing swimming spot is waiting for you. I’m also excited by the prospect of exploring all those little tributary creeks and forks of the river. Oh, the adventures!