Wading In - a first attempt at wild river swimming
It started with a tentative step. Just the one, from the muddy bank and into the swirling crystal shallows, where the gravel bottom rocked in the steady movement of the water.
Just one slip, from the bank to the water and then a pause. A short stop, just long enough to catch a stolen breath and for my legs to adjust to the chill of the chalk stream I had just plunged myself into. Probably not the first thing that comes to mind on a grey October day, as leaves are whipped from the trees and rain threatens, but why not?!
My wild swimming adventures so far have mainly taken place in the west of Scotland on secluded beaches and salt-water lochs, or the dramatic coastlines of Dorset and Cornwall. I had yet to encounter fresh water, river swimming and after the wonderful Wiltshire Mermaid invited me to join her for an impromptu plunge at a local wild swim spot, I couldn’t really say no.
Apart from the glorious colours of the surrounding trees, and the underwater reeds that tickled at my un-seasonally exposed legs, fleeting tendrils grasping from the bubbling depths we didn’t see or experience much in the way of wildlife. But that’s OK, we weren’t necessarily there for the wildlife, we were there for our own sense of wild. An elemental re-connection if you will.
The skin tingling sensation of cold waters and the rush of being swept along with the current, a surrender to the river, a watery perspective; these are the things we were seeking. A chance to wash away the stresses of everyday life, of work, and chores, and mundane routines. It was a time to wash off the wi-fi, take out the headphones and listen to the rumblings of the earth amongst the wash of the water.
It wasn’t a long swim, chalk streams are notoriously cold, so a quick dip was enough to awaken the senses and reconvene with the river spirits before the awkward change under a towel. There is no dignified way to do that, and thanks was given not only to the river nymphs for letting us share their stream, but also that it was a relatively quiet spot, on a relatively dismal day so there weren’t too many onlookers.
That one tentative step, that one magical moment when my feet left the bank and submerged me into a new world and sparked a new keenness for river swimming. Whilst I won’t be entirely forgoing my salt-water sauries, I will certainly be seeking out more river swimming opportunities.
