I awoke to tiny snowflakes swirling around in a rather aimless fashion. They didn't settle in Ashburton, but when we got to Spitchwick there was a lovely white dusting, a strong contrast to the dark snake of the river running through. It was so cold outside there actually wasn't much of a shock getting in to the water, which Judy's watch said was 1.7 degrees C. As I started to swim, trying to suppress the urge to scream violently, I started to feel the familiar and strange pleasure/pain of a thousand needles attacking my limbs, and then a burning sensation on my skin. I know it sounds mad, but this is actually incredibly invigorating - the perfect way to start the day, especially when rounded off with a tot of my new favourite post-swim tipple, spiced rum. Later we went on a walk to Foggintor Quarry, where I've swum in the past, it was transformed into an ice lake, absolutely beautiful.
Sunday, 24 February 2013
Swimming in the snow
I awoke to tiny snowflakes swirling around in a rather aimless fashion. They didn't settle in Ashburton, but when we got to Spitchwick there was a lovely white dusting, a strong contrast to the dark snake of the river running through. It was so cold outside there actually wasn't much of a shock getting in to the water, which Judy's watch said was 1.7 degrees C. As I started to swim, trying to suppress the urge to scream violently, I started to feel the familiar and strange pleasure/pain of a thousand needles attacking my limbs, and then a burning sensation on my skin. I know it sounds mad, but this is actually incredibly invigorating - the perfect way to start the day, especially when rounded off with a tot of my new favourite post-swim tipple, spiced rum. Later we went on a walk to Foggintor Quarry, where I've swum in the past, it was transformed into an ice lake, absolutely beautiful.
Labels:
dartmoor,
Devon,
Foggintor Quarry,
spitchwick,
swimming
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