I love swimming (but you already knew that). And the only think I love more than swimming is travel-swimming! New pools! New lakes! New oceans!

In four (!) days, I'm going to be packing up my suit and my little family and heading to Argentina for full-on summer and a tour of as many Buenos Aires pools as I can manage!

Fellow Swimming Holes swimmer, Laura has already ventured to Argentina with this glorious meditation on Patagonia blue and a pool-side fairytale in Mendoza, and I've gotten some incredible pool tips from new swimming Instagram and Twitter pals. I promise to take a million pictures and share all of the joy that is BA-swimming! I've also got a bunch of Love Lettering Project envelopes packed, because I have a feeling a bunch of these pools are worthy of big epic love...

On the very top of my list is the outdoor pool at the Four Seasons BA - the photo at the top. Please note: I will probably die from joy if I get a dip in!

And then there's this rooftop beaut at the PanAmericano Hotel:



And this 30 HECTARE (!) pool extravaganza. THIRTY HECTARES OF SWIMMING! I can't wait!

The Park Hyatt pool looks promising and there's an Olympic-sized pool just a bit outside of the city that I might try to venture to! We are also planning to find the ocean at some point too, because, well, I am part-mermaid and I need me some salt water.

I've got a lot to do in the next few days, but I just keep watching the Olympics and staring at photos of Argentinian pools. The only things I have packed so far are airmail envelopes, a picnic blanket and goggles, but that's all I need, right?!

P.S.: if you have any other must-swim BA pools, let me know!

I swam after dinner in a corridor of sunlight.

The lake was black, but not forboding, and the loons had disappeared – two paddled beyond the point and the other flew to join them, its solid bones making it impossible to get airborne until the thwack of feathers on water stopped and suddenly it was possible, so I didn't have to worry about them diving under me (yes, that is my lake swimming fear!)

The top layer of the water was bright with sun, my arms gold-green. One-two-three-breath, with a view of the trees on the far side of the lake. I swam for five, six, seven cottages, counting the docks and the tethered boats.

When I turned around, the sun was what traffic reporters warn highway commuters about this time of year – the sun low and directly in my eyes, a blinding light.

I swam without knowing where I was swimming, and kept on until the dock appeared, with the docktails and the happy hour (the happiest hour, really).


It took me forever to warm up afterwards and I wore all the clothes I packed...but it was the most glorious lake swim of the summer.

To bridge the gap between the months ago swimming lessons and the lake we're heading to shortly, we got a small, blow-up wading pool for the backyard, and I decided to set it up while he napped.

I thought we had gotten a small, maybe three foot wide pool, but it turns out we got the Olympic-sized backyard wading pool. It's over two metres wide and is the entire width of our yard. It's pretty much a small above ground pool.



And then I tried for a full 45 minutes to inflate this way too big pool, wearing my sleeping three-month-old. After a LOT of cursing and flipping this ginormous plastic pool over and over again, it turns out, it turns out it's not an inflatable pool after all. (I only learned this through Instagram. Thanks Kerry and Carolyn for the tip!)  You just unroll it – also not easy – and fill it with GALLONS of water.

I wasn't sure how it was going to go over, so I only filled it a few inches, but after some getting used to it, Jack was all over it. Kicking, splashing, making "coffee soup"...



And when my fella came home, he hopped in too.  Gin and tonics poolside? Positively delightful! (Though I am going to make a dollar store trip and get one that is significantly smaller...!)



And then I took the baby to the Toronto launch of Jessica Lee's swim memoir, Turning, and got to meet her and Lindsey Sutherland, another on-line swimming pal in person, and it was all sorts of wonderful!

ps: if you're looking for the perfect book to read beside a lake/pool/river/backyard wading pool this summer, I can't recommend Turning enough.

Summer has finally arrived in Toronto. It has been gloriously sunny for days – perfect swimming weather – but I have a three-month-old and leaving her on the side of the pool in a car seat like my mom did with me back in the early 80s is probably not going to fly. So instead of swimming every day like I want to, I've decided to write about swimming every day that the outdoor pools are open in Toronto. I started on June 17th and will keep on until Labour Day.

Some days are long meandering tales of swimming and water and lakes and rivers, other days are just a few words. Some days I write about swimmable puddles, other days are about lifeguarding. It really is the next best thing to swimming...

June 18
I want my arms to be too tired to hold anything, my legs too heavy to carry the weight of me.

June 19
Four years ago today I sat on a beach made out of rock that clacked under foot, a dry, dull clack that competed with the carousel's song and the waves against the shore. I sat on the stones and wondered if this was the Atlantic, or the sea (I still don't know). I wondered if the tide was coming in or going out – I come from a world of lakes and find the idea of a shifting shoreline disorienting. I sat and debated going around and around on the carousel.

I let the sun sink into my shoulders and slipped sun-warmed stones into my pockets so I wouldn't forget the afternoon.

I wish I had gone swimming in Brighton.

June 26
I want my arms to be too tired to hold anything, my legs too heavy to carry the weight of me. I want to lose count and lost time and feel the calm flood my lungs, the calm that settled into the rhythm of my arms, my breath – 1-2-3-breath, a glimpse of the lane rope, 1-2-3-breath, a glimpse of the tiled edge.

July 1
Underneath the lifeguard chair, between the pool and the deck,
the smallest bit of green watches the sun shift turquoise and blinding.

The pool was fouling-free and sun-full and I got there right when it opened.



After a lifetime of taking FOREVER to get in the water, my swimming ladies encouraged me to jump in last summer, and so what better way to enter the 2017 summer swimming season than with the biggest jump I could muster.

("Mama jump in swimming pool!" my toddler is still saying. I beam every time!)

The fast lane was SO fast – with a U of T swimmer who was tearing it up, and an older man who apparently was on the national team in the 70s – that I had to marvel at their speed one lane over in the medium lane. I will never tire of watching fast, efficient swimmers. That and watching the across the floor jumping combinations in a dance class are two of my favourite things to witness.



The water didn't have the thick layer of sunscreen like it will by August, but was crisp and perfectly turquoise, warmer than the air. My mind drifted and rambled as it only can during a wonderful swim and when I was done, I made sure to float on my back in the centre of the deep end, letting the huge blue sky full my lungs.

And if that wasn't wonderful enough, I ran into a guard who recognized me from my very pregnant swimming days before I had my daughter a few months ago. He had been guarding the day before I gave birth and got a glimpse of my little girl in her stroller.

It's been thunderstorming ever since (grrrrr), but I have my fingers crossed for sunny swimming days ahead!

- flip flops
- waterproof sunscreen
- sunglasses
- goggles
- towel(s)
- underpants (Laura made this handy reminder)
- a book for on-deck reading (Note: no newspapers allowed!)
- extra hair elastics if you're of the long-haired persuasion
- a water bottle
- a small Ziploc baggie for your phone
- extra swim diapers if you're swimming with a toddler
- a plastic bag for post-swim wet suits/towels
- swim snacks for the post-swim hungries (Rhya's go-to is Doritos. I'm a fan of the swim biscuit)

Tip: If someone, anyone, ever asks you to show up at a pool before the sun rises, when you'll be the only ones in the water, say yes.

Waking up at 4am is never very much fun, but waking up at 4am to drive across the city with one of your swimming besties to see the sun rise over an Olympic pool perched in the sky, and sneaking in stolen lengths in an empty pool, now THAT is fun. It feels like a thousand years ago now, but it was a highlight of the swimmingest summer on record.

I'd always wanted to swim at the Donald Summerville Olympic Pool in The Beaches (known to locals as the Olympic Pool, according to the lifeguard/manager who was up before dawn with us), but trekking to the opposite end of the city is tricky with a kiddo. It did not disappoint – there are three (!!) pools perched in the sky, with a view of the lake, the CN Tower, the rumble of Lakeshore traffic. One pool is a diving tank with a huge diving tower at 5m and 10m (my legs quake just remembering them), a smaller square-ish pool in the middle, then a 50m beauty, made even more beautiful under a rising sky.

Though we are swimmers, not jumpers, we jumped. (And in Rhya's case, jumped and jumped and jumped!)




LZV: I watched Rhya jump and jump, more and more proud of her with each descent. I didn't want to. I really didn't, but if I hadn't, I always would've wondered if I should've tried. So I tried it. And I know now with 100% certainty that I'll never do it again. It was truly terrifying. The water was SO far down and there was WAAAAAY too much time to think in the air. That suspension of everything except my mind trying to figure out how to hit the water, without having any control over my body was one of the most disorienting and unpleasant feelings I've had. I have no idea how divers do what they do. I flailed in the air. Air is nothing like water. I much prefer being amphibious...

After the thwack and sting of the bellyflopped parts of our bodies had worn off, and the sun was big and bright over the beach, we snuck into the Olympic pool and swam 50m lengths, marvelling at how much longer it felt than the 25m (and sometimes 25 yard!) we're used to.

Some Things I'll Never Forget About Our Secret Swim ~ Rhya



On an early morning in July, Lindsay and I took part in a film shoot documenting outdoor pools and swimming in Toronto. A pool date we nicknamed our “Secret Swim.”



Before this dip I’m not sure I’d ever woken before the sun for a swim or had the chance to stand on the deck of an outdoor Olympic sized pool, with only the company of a dear friend by my side.



After our “secret swim,” these are two experiences that I’ll never forget for the rest of my life!
I will also never let go of the memory of the sun rising over the lake, while the horizon swelled up with the promise of warmth, letting loose a million crystals to dance across the smooth surface of our sleepy lengths stretched before us.



And then there was the jumping in from heights I never thought I would fall from (too many times to count!) I’ll never forget to point my toes again; water can be truly unforgiving! Oh and the wedgies were unreal. We also got to witness a professional diver fall gracefully out of a handstand, from the top diving platform and barely make a splash. It was truly magical.



And last but not least there were the lengths Lindsay and I shared at the end our time at the J. Donald D Summerville Olympic Pool. A perfect end to a secret swim.



But if Lindsay and I ever have this chance again, we will not wait for the crew to arrive before we jump in. We will break the rules and dive into the morning and never look back.

I miss swimming. I type that out and it looks so small on the page, but it feels enormous. I really miss swimming. I miss it so much that I stopped my bike the other day just to watch U of T's swim practice (which of course made the missing worse!) My local is closed until next week and it feels like an eternity.

I read something the other day about a swimmer feeling like she's a plant without water when she hasn't swum in a while and I will admit I had the pinpricks of tears in the backs of my eyes, nodding. Yes. Yes. I am a plant without water, a swimmer without water.

Melodramatic? Yes. But also true. It's been 12 days since my last swim and I am at a loss. My body feels different, my brain is so cluttered.

It's partly because I had such an incredible summer of swimming. It was such a scorcher and I was in the water at least four times a week, if not more. My body has never been so strong. My hair has never been so permanently matted. I explored new pools and stuck with my favourites. The missing peaks on the hot days like today where nothing would be better than a dip, and an hour or so of lengths, back and forth and back and forth, the meditation I crave more than anything else.

I've been out walking (my dance-injuried version of running), but it's not the same, even with the sun on my face and podcasts in my ears. I know what I need to do is swim (and I will! Monday! MONDAY!), but in the meantime, I'll be tweeting with my new UK Twitter chums – Tanya of @lidowriters, a writer-in-residence at the UK's oldest outdoor pool and Clare (@loveswimming) – both swimmers and lido* aficionados (my people!!). They're both going to a lido conference this weekend and man oh man, I wish the teleporter was working!

So, until Monday, I'll be here, two-piece packed away until next summer, scrolling through old swim posts, and the turquoise blue-tones photos on my phone...




* Lido = pool! I'd never heard the word before this summer - for us non-Brits, it's pronounced lie-do!

I must begin with the caveat that summer is not over. I REPEAT, SUMMER IS NOT OVER. But as it's the last week the outdoor pools are open in Toronto, I figured it was time to celebrate some of our swimming accomplishments in embroidered badge-form:

This summer's grown-up swimming badges (clockwise): 
- Laura Queen of the Docktail's Swimming Sommelier Badge (featuring a perfect vinho verde, a boozy watermelon rosemary lemonade, an aperol spritz and an epic red).
- Patrice's Swimming Sustenance Badge (featuring her roadtrip clambake)*
- My Jumping-In Bravery Badge (because this summer marks the first I haven't hung off the ladder for HOURS)
- Rhya's Director of Underwater Photography Badge (because of her hauntingly beautiful river photos!)



And I couldn't let our epic Swimming Holes We Have Known collective cliff jump go unrecognized! CLIFF JUMPING BADGES FOR ALL!


Check out last summer's badges here!



* please note the French knot shrimp. THEY KILL ME!!

We 3 Swimmers recently went on our first swimming road trip together. We bailed early on work, piled into Laura's car, turned up the stereo and and drove our carload of chips and wine gums to Chelsea, Quebec to stay with our wonderful friend & Quebec correspondent Patrice (pictured above). It was an epic weekend, CHOCK FULL of our favourite things and none of us will ever forget it.

The Big Deal thing that happened, was that we went CLIFFJUMPING. Yes. We did this. Below you'll find our individual stories, and photographic proof, about how it all went down.

But first, it seems so fitting to publish this group piece about JUMPING IN today – because today is the First-Year Anniversary of Swimming Holes We Have Known!!! It's hard to believe how much has happened in a year just because of this blog. Our stories have had well over 25,000 reads!!!!! We've been featured on CBC radio. We have Olympic swimming heroes sharing our posts. We starred in a short film in a secret pool. We now regularly use the words Docktail and Rocktail in our vocabularies. We go on road trips to find swimming holes, individually and collectively. We have a legion of fans (well, a small legion) sending in their best imitation photos. And people all over social media are now using our hashtag to share their swimmy moments, #swimmingholeswehaveknown.

I think we 3 all agree that the best decision was that we just jumped in. And that we did it together. We thank you for being here with us.

Without further ado, we give you Cliffjumping: The Swimming Holes We Have Known Edition.

* * * * *


Rhya:


I am not a cliffjumper. I am a cautious klutz, so I never really saw cliffjumping fitting into my lineup of life skills. I mean I can dive in off a not so high diving board, or a rickety raft, that's not an issue. But cliff jumping... that has always remained one of those things I wanted to have the guts to do... but simply could never dig deep enough to find them when the opportunity arose. I remember camping in Killarney one summer, our site was situated almost directly beside the infamous cliffjumping site at the park. Smooth rocky Canadian cliffs overlooking that crazy see-through blue water, piled high with kids just throwing themselves in, over and over again. It looked like so much fun, and there I was tip toeing down towards the water's edge, to scrape my knees on the rocks as I very ungracefully tried to slide in. Why couldn't I just jump?

Then before we took off on our inaugural swim trip, I was visiting my dad and family in Gananoque. My brothers and I took a quick dip at the local berm, where I was teased for being too cautious about jumping in off the higher than usual dock (which I eventually did... flailing cannonball style). And then they razzed me again for chickening out of cliff jumping at the locks we visited up the road. And again, I felt that same irritation... why couldn't I just jump?

So when we hit the Gatineau River for our swimming trip the following weekend and our intrepid host Patrice gave us a tour of swimming options and then mentioned the potential of cliffjumping... my ears instantly perked up. She was looking for someone to join her, as she had yet to muster the courage to take the plunge along with all the ten-year-olds who apparently don't come programmed with self-preserving fear like us late thirtysomethings. And that was all I needed, a kindred spirit to snap me out of my fear. A positive push and assurance I was surrounded by strength, in the smiles of my fellow swimmers. The lever in my brain snapped on to "JUMP IN" and that was that. I knew I would take the plunge.

And the very next day I did! And it was worth every single second of excruciating tummy tumbling fear before I stepped off that cliff and fell arms waving, screams riding the wind, and toes curling up towards the sun. The impact was shocking, the water was warm, and I felt alive. And I did it again. And again. And again.


So watch out Kilarney, I'm coming for you next!


(Bonus highlight was playing some ridiculous game where you yell an animal name at your fellow cliffjumper while they are jumping and then must try to emulate said animal in the air. It was a lot harder than it sounded. I believe I almost got a lion's roar in there somewhere... but probably sounded more like an screeching hyena.)

* * * * *

Lindsay:




I am not a jumper-inner. I'm just not. I linger on the ladder, wade to my knees and generally take forever to get in. Jumping in was THE WORST part about lifeguarding and I chose back crawl whenever I could while I was on a swim team.

So when our Swimming Holes We Have Known road trip landed on the edge of the Gatineau River, I was all set to take the ladder in. It was cold and grey and we had been driving for hours and needed to eat something that wasn't wine gums/IKEA chips – there was no time for my ladder-taking shenanigans. Laura stood on the dock and insisted we hold hands, all four of us, and counted down from three. I had no choice. I jumped.

I didn't love it, but I did it. And it was really the only way to get into the freezing cold river.

The next day, I still wasn't convinced I was a jumper-inner. That was a one-off, that pre-dinner dock jump. Except our wonderful host and Swimming Holes We Have Known Quebec correspondent, Patrice, REALLY wanted to jump off a cliff. All the kids in the area do it and she decided it was her summer to join them.

Rhya went first because she is fearless and brave like nobody's business. And she went in from the second-highest point. Patrice went next, taming those butterflies and brave as all get out. I wasn't ready for the second highest rock. I could do the lowest one, I decided, my heart pounding in my throat. It took a few countdowns before I could do it, but I did. I jumped! And it wasn't as shocking or bracing or terrifying as I had thought. It was even exhilarating.

Taking the rope up the rock was fun (I felt like a kid!), and then after watching an 11- and 10-year-old launch themselves off the rock with abandon, I decided to try the second highest point. It was less fun – a bit too much air time for me, but I did it and I am now officially a jumper-inner.

Who has time for ladder lingering when there is swimming to be done...

* * * * * *

Laura:


Let me preface this by saying that those close to me who are familiar with my fear of falling have always been impressed by how loudly – and how many times – I can scream during one jump, or during one amusement park ride. So... historically, a cliffjumper I am NOT.

I think the last time I jumped from a great height was when I was 16 years old and visiting my cousins in Texas. I don't remember the particulars of it, only that I stood for a Very Long Time looking over the precipice working up the nerve to take the leap, and that when I finally hit the surface, pretty much every part of my body that touched the water did its own spectacular and individual version of a bellyflop.

So when Patrice proposed that we jump off the cliffs alongside the Gatineau River, my inner child threw a wee tantrum and I trudged quietly up the hill at the back of our little swim-pack, content to let the others go first and wondering if there was any way I could get out of it.

But my turn came. There was no pressure (the courage of these lovely women was all I needed). And I jumped.

It wasn't so bad. I can't say that I will from here on be an official cliff jumper, but I DID earn my adult swim badge for Cliff Jumping, for which I am pretty darn proud... so who knows? We'll see where the swim-ventures lead.

I grew up at my grandparent's cottage near Minden, just west of Haliburton. There are more lakes than you can count up there, and if you're ever passing by Wedgewood Marina, know that 12 Mile Lake has all of my childhood memories.

This summer, my wee family rented a cottage nearby-ish – on Buckskin Lake near Tory Hill, Ontario. It was hands down the most perfect week in recent memory and I'm so grateful we were able to swim and canoe and nap on the dock day in and day out. Note: finding cottages should be an Olympic sport, so if you haven't got one in the family/be sure to start befriending those with cottages ASAP and/or start looking to rent one in February!

If you happen to find yourself wandering the roads in the Kawarthas/Bancroft area, I've got four suggestions for you:



1). It took forever to get to the cottage we had rented – every highway we tried to take was closed, so we wandered along back roads and ate roadside popsicles and handfuls of front seat chips. But the highlight was finding The World's Smallest Bookstore and pulling a screeching U-turn to fill the extra inches of room we had in the car with more books. I could've spent the weekend there – books are $3, and it's an honour system. If you're passing through Kinmount, I highly recommend a stop! And in keeping with the swimming theme, I picked up a brilliant collection of Lisa Moore's short stories with a swimmer on the cover!



2). Go to Bancroft, buy the brightest beach towels at the Stedman's, then visit Winnie's Treasure Shop. My grandfather's dear friend Hing owns it and it is full of local stones and gems. Tell him Ruth and Doug's granddaughter sent you. Be sure to check out the local sodalite – a dark blue stone, streaked with white that reminds me of the milky way.




3). Even if the skies are grey and the rain is threatening to fall, have a picnic in Cheddar, Ontario, because, well, CHEESE!

4). Hit up every Kawartha Dairy you can. Summers are short and ice cream cones change everything.

*SEE NEW CROWD-SOURCED TIPS BELOW!!!!*

* * * * *

Original Post: August 3, 2016:

I am no expert, but having just arrived home from a week at a cottage with a very curious toddler, I picked up a few tips that I feel is my swim-loving parental duty to share:


1). Dock + a pack and play
Fill it with a thousand toys and snacks. Then enjoy your morning coffee/docktails. (Note: this was the biggest game changer. I can't recommend it highly enough!)


2). Docktails + baby monitor
Game changer #2: Charge that monitor up and as soon as the kid is asleep, head down to the dock for docktails/dinner/skinnydipping, etc. Freedom! I have never been more careful about not breaking the baby monitor as I was last week.



3). An adult PFD
We all know kids have to have lifies when around the water, but wearing an adult lifejacket made for much easier off-the-dock swimming with Jack. (My egg beater is good, but not THAT good!)



4).  Canoe snacks
I wasn't sure how canoeing was going to work with a kid who loves walking/running more than anything, but we timed our canoe rides around snack times and ended up having the best paddles. And it turns out canoe rides also put our kid to sleep – added bonus!



5). A chamois pullover
100% not necessary, but amazing. We were gifted one for Jack and I want one in adult size!



6). All the stairs
If your cottage is perched on high, getting your kid to do the 50+ stairs from the water to the cottage four times a day will make for SERIOUS naps.

And two extra bonus tips:
- wooden coffee tables make excellent baby gates
- bringing up child safety locks for the cupboards was a brilliant move and meant we didn't have to do too much curious-kid-proofing in the kitchen.

* * * * *

UPDATE August 30, 2016:

Because people ARE AWESOME, we received a veritable deluge of toddler + cottage tips: