Tag Archives: Lake District

Swimming with Jackie in Crummock Water, Cumbria

With Jackie in Crummock water: “She goes in, even in the winter”

It was not winter, but a cold reluctant spring and feisty April weather (I have been slow to draw this one). We splooshed about in a 6 degree Crummock Water whipped up to resemble the sea, all questions of ‘do we actually want to get in there’ vanishing with the chilly water’s embrace.

Later, changing in the drizzle from cozzies into only marginally drier clothes, a dog-walker arrived at the gravely beach. As the small dog leapt about in the water yipping with delight and silliness, it’s owner sighed and told us “she goes in, even in the winter”, as if there was no explaining the antics of some creatures.
“So do we”, we declared happily.

Swimming with Jackie in Crummock Water, Cumbria

Swimming with Jackie in Crummock Water, Cumbria, April 2018

It was summer, only just now…

The first leaves began to fall, it seems like only yesterday. It was a few weeks ago in fact when I drew this one but it somehow got forgotten. I swam in Ullswater with Francine, Derwent water with Jackie. This is the drawing that was inspired by both those swims, though the scene is my memory of the Ullswater swim: there was no denying the leaves really had begun to fall, so had the temperature. We had brought warm clothes, but there was no real hurry to get into them: still time for faffing, still capable of holding a conversation and stringing words into sentences. But winter is coming…

The leaves had begun to fall, and so had the temperature.

The leaves had begun to fall, and so had the temperature.

'On getting into Lakes'

On getting into Lakes

A quick impromptu dip, in – ahem – just my bra and pants. Getting into the habit of putting a cossie and goggles in my rucksack might be sensible, but I have got this getting into rocky lakes thing down to a fine art now. With the really rocky ones it’s a sort of hands-feet-bottom shuffle. Classy.

'On getting into Lakes'

‘On getting into Lakes’

Swimming with Mother

Swimming with Mother

Amidst intermittent torrential showers Mother and I braved Ullswater’s choppy waters. Last time I was here, the water was a bracing 7 degrees, this time it was nearly 16. But Mother (age 71 and eleven twelfths), is not an outdoor swimmer and still showed the lake what she was made of. I am probably a bad influence…

Swimming with Mother

Swimming with Mother in Ullswater, Cumbria

To Wildcat Island…

Chillswim Coniston end-to-end 2016

coniston-2016

On Saturday we swam the five and a quarter mile length of Coniston, me and about 700 others. The drizzle was brightened by a procession of pink and orange tow-floats.

My second time at this fantastic event,  but my first without a wetsuit, and despite the rain I had a fair view,  randomly choosing to swim the majority of it breaststroke having trained front crawl all summer.

It kept me warm. A girl can change her mind.

So for the record: 3 hours 14 minutes, 20 minutes slower than last year,  but most of that is the lack of a wetsuit.  Wetsuits go faster, but they’re not as much fun, not when one has a cossie with ‘some like it cold’ printed on the bum.

This is near the start, on the way towards Peel Island, or Wildcat Island for fans of Swallows and Amazons.

Calendars now available…

…of a new selection of swimming pictures for 2017, see my other blog for details and photos: https://nancyfarmer.wordpress.com/portfolio/2017-calendar-is-it-cold-swimming-drawings-by-nancy-farmer/

Self-Portrait in Red Tarn

Self-Portrait, in Red Tarn

I’ve walked to the top of Helvellyn an uncounted number of times over the last 30… 35… years, but I’ve never swum in Red Tarn, although I’ve often wanted to. I am usually with people who tell me this would be ridiculous, or it is freezing, or I do not fancy walking home in soaking wet pants, or I have taken other ways up to the peak which have afforded a bird’s-eye-view, but do not take me actually past this tarn, one of the highest in England, Google tells me.

This time I came prepared, not only with costume but shoes to swim in (so as to avoid this sort of scene). But it is one thing to want to leap into the clear, cold, deep and gloomy-blue waters of the tarn; and quite another thing to actually be there, staring into her inky depths.

I did one loop of the edge and it was a glorious cool kilometre or so, but I wouldn’t cross the middle, not on my own. I never did discover why she is called Red…

Self-Portrait in Red Tarn

Self-Portrait in Red Tarn

Coniston end-to-end 2015

Coniston End-to-End: Green hats are ready to go!

Coniston-end-to-end, 2015. We are at one end, ready to swim to the other end, five and a quarter miles away. Sadly, no, that is not me without the wetsuit, I dithered over the issue, but the water I’ve been swimming in has been warmer than Coniston, and the wetsuit is very new and not very cheap, and so it would have been rude not to wear it. There were a few ‘skins’ swimmers, who I was a little jealous of, but it was a lovely swim, and a fantastic day for it.

Thanks to Colin Hill and the Chillswim people for running another fantastic event!

(and for those of you unfamiliar with Chillswim – the orange things are the floats they make, good for visibility and excellent for putting your stuff in – if you have a drybag version – while you swim. And to the uninitiated, they are TOW floats, not TOE floats… this last point has caused some confusion amongst non-swimming friends….)

Oh, and for the record: 2hours, 53 minutes, 58 seconds…. 🙂

Coniston end-to-end 2015

Coniston end-to-end 2015