The Break

Our summer here has been exceedingly mild, to say the least.

We've had four days from spring til now where we made it to 90 or almost to 90.  Yesterday was one of those.  We've had almost no wildfires, which is a big plus to this mild summer, no skies clogged in smoke, although the dust has begun, tearing up my eyes, turning them to sandpaper and bright red, due to the grass seed farmers plowing up fields.  The massive dust clouds created are my bane and create a misery untold.

The dust lingers in the air after the clouds of it cannot be seen to irritate my nasal passages and eyes.  I am tempted to wear a dust mask to try to keep some of it out.  I've been allergic to dust since I was a child.  To live in the valley with such an affliction is pure hell this time of year.

Today should be hot again but not until late in the afternoon.  This summer is so strange in that way.  Then clouds return, and with them lower temps again. Now they're saying possible rain again tomorrow.  High 70's or so, for the next week, with some clouds.

People have complained, myself included, that we've had no real summer, even the weather folks on the news have been apologetic, but claim it could still come, the heat some of us yearn for, to soak up and save, so to speak, for the long gray ahead.

For some reason, I don't mind, even love, extreme heat.  For some reason, I don't mind, even love, extreme cold too.  It's the daily grayness that is constant around here, sometimes with rain, sometimes just extreme wetness in the air you can feel, that penetrates, with clouds and gloom, that go on and on and on, in the winter, that gets to me.  I don't mind the storms either.  But the long gray weighs me down.

So I love summer.   Yesterday I went up to the park, and fed the boys and then I went into the river.  The river is not warm.  Not at all.  Miserably cold in fact.  You need extreme heat to enjoy going into a river that cold, that it numbs you, takes your breath away.   It wasn't that hot yesterday by the time I got up there, near 4:30.  I went in anyhow.

I go in slowly instead of the plunge some take, to acclimate to that cold.  Little kids were braving it, but there were no adults out in it.  People float the river by the droves.  But they're not in the water when they do that.   They float in tubes, in plastic kayaks, on blow up air mattresses, in fishing pontoon boats and in rafts.  They float from the bridge down to the park, because in the middle of the park, are the falls, so they must get out before the falls.

Once acclimated, I take my old boogie board and kick swim up to the rapids where the river meets again, after the island.  The island splits the river for a few hundred feet.

Some rafters come down one side of the island and some the other.  There's a backwash along the shore, so the current slowly, if I drifted, would take me up to where I'm nearly across from the tip of the island.  There, its shallow, and I walk out to where its too swift to stand anymore, then launch out on the old boogie board, broken in the middle, and ride the gentle rapids down the few hundred feet to where they piddle out and then kick swim back over to the backwash area, swim up, and do it again. 

I did this three or four times before needing to exit due to the cold. I walked back up to my car, dried off with a towel and drove home.  I was happy, after swimming.  I always am.   Rolled down the windows and turned up the radio on my favorite station, classic rock and loved the summer.

The cold from the water has sunk in by the time I get home.  I get out of wet clothes, take a shower, put on socks and then am cold for awhile.   Depends on how long I braved the water.  I've only done this twice thus far this summer.

To find warm water to swim in, I'd have to drive clear up above Sweet Home to the reservoir.  I've done so once thus far this summer.  Only once.

I love the water and I like to swim.  It's my favorite form of exercise.  But I cannot tolerate chlorine, it gives me a terrible rash, so I can't swim in pools.

Summer is the only time I get a chance to swim.  So I do so whenever I can, even if its only for a few minutes in a still freezing river.

Some kitty photos.....

Mooki, an old old boy now.

Arrow, one of the Olson Lane cats

Di Vinci, also one of the lucky Olson Lane cats, a lovable boy

Huckleberry and Di Vinci, both from Olson Lane, both older kitties, adults when trapped so I don't have a clue how old they actually are.  Probably 8 or 9 at least.

Mona Lisa, also an Olson Lane girl.

Willy Wonka 

Classic Slinko