Fortunately we are blessed where we live to have countless beautiful stretches of river a short drive away. So we went to Grassington Weir which is actually mentioned on the wild swimming website.
It is a great spot as the path bends away from the river at the crucial place and there is a bank down to the water so it felt quite quiet and away from the tourist hordes, who like to stroll along the Dales way. That was until we realised there was a path along the fenced, wooded other side of the river. We realised this when a group of about twenty ramblers trundled past and gawped at us. To be fair they were very friendly and gave us lots of kudos by telling us we were very brave and by generally being very impressed at our hardiness.
We stayed in quite a bit longer this week, swimming up and down, enjoying the sunshine which again came out at just the right moment. I had bought socks this week to go with my gloves so I felt great. But I think the fact we'd stayed in longer made getting out harder.
It didn't help that a man with a Labrador puppy turned up just as we were staggering out the water and didn't seem in a hurry to depart. Even though it was obvious we were trying not to wave various parts of our bodies around as we got changed under our changing equipment ( aka camp fire blanket and woolly poncho).
Anyway after a small chat about how far labradors can swim, we managed to get many layers on and set off back for the car. It did feel very surreal ( it must be all the endorphins that make you feel like that) and took a while back at home to feel back to normal. My sister had a hot bath and a glass of red wine and said she was back to normal in no time. We're going to take noodles or soup in a flask next time.
Anyway it was lovely. Just what was needed after a hard week at work. I'm cross with myself that I didn't take a photo of the lovely river. Instead you will just have to make do with the mad swimming goons.