Dana Strand Swim Report

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Drafting Behind a Freight Train

I was not planning on swimming today, but at 9:30 when I looked at the web cams and saw how perfect the water looked, it was hard to come up with any compelling arguments not to go. Why wait for tomorrow when it’s good right now? The water looks smooth, surf is calm, and it’s a clear blue sky.

I wrap up some work and conversations that I need to get out of the way and manage to get on the road by 11:00. Conditions look unchanged by the time I get to the parking lot. It’s an idyllic late autumn day. The sun feels warm but the light breeze feels cold. I walk down the stairs and find myself on a beautiful mid-tide beach. The water looks like it’s 80 and feels like it’s 55.

I set down my backpack and as I take off my shirt, I remember thinking to myself how I am just seconds away from getting in the water and having trouble fathoming just how it is that can happen. This is the part of the Peyote or Ayahuasca experience where one vomits just before the psychedelic trip.

As I head to the water a Curlew walks on the wet sand just in front of me and a pair of Pelicans hover over the surface about 50 feet out. The water is crystal clear right here in the shallows and there is hardly any surf. Eventually I am waist deep and I can no longer put off the inevitable. I push forward and lean into the water.

It’s cold. I swim south and wait for my inner furnace to engage. Soon my insides normalize and I glide along this super smooth ocean. The water visibility is not as clear as the shallows but still fairly clear. It feels like the water gets a little cooler at the very southern end.

I turn around and head north and do not stop until I am all the way at my northern turn around point. I can feel the water get colder and colder. Overall, I would say that the water is colder than the last few swims, and it was cold on the last few swims. I’m trying to stay on top of the cold and ride it’s sharp energy like a cyclist drafting behind a freight train. I gaze out onto the horizon and the noon time sun is just overhead.

At the north end, I poke my head up and look all around. It is so lovely in all directions. I look north towards Monarch and then look south and am literally stricken with surprise at how pretty the point looks even though I have looked at it thousands of times before. A green lobster buoy floats inshore just south of me.

Well it’s back to where I started from. I’m thinking a lot about the hot coffee I will be drinking when I get home. Oh it’s gonna be so good. And as I sit here writing this, I can confirm that it is indeed very good. So are my socks.