This summer was truly was a banner summer for swimming.  

I mean, summers are always good for swimming, but this summer, I decided to pack three summers into one and jumped into any and every body of water I could.

 

In May, I was back to swimming with my beloved swim tether and June was filled with "Mama swimming lessons" and a return to outdoor City pools on the weekends. 

July was packed with swimming—with dips in Toronto pools while my kids learned to swim (!), chilly Georgian Bay swims, and two weeks on Twelve Mile Lake, which is the longest I’ve been on any lake since I was a kid. The water was rougher than it usually is, until one day when the water was like glass, and it is the swim I will hold onto deep into February.

 

I swam with loons more times than I can count, and my kids went out for swim one afternoon, only to find themselves paddling around with a crew of 14 teenager loons. Definitely one for the books!

August was the most swim-filled month, maybe of my life, with a visit to the ocean-like waves of Lake Ontario at Sandbanks Provincial Park, and a luxurious afternoon in the Gatineau River. Two of my very favourite people live on its banks, and we spent the day in the rich, silky black water that is rich with tannins, like oversteeped tea, from the decomposing logs on the river bed. It was such a beautiful swim (and my kids’ first river swim!) until we were leaving and my oldest saw a water snake—my worst nightmare, his absolute delight!

Our week in Ottawa that was supposed to be chock full o’ swimming, was thwarted by a non-COVID-related plague that struck our friends’, but the delightful consolation turned out to be my best swim of the summer on Lake Kennebec, near Perth, ON. Our city neighbours just bought a cottage there, and we were thinking of stopping off for a quick hello to break up the drive. They were having none of that and insisted we stay for the night, which meant not only did my kids learn the technique of a “monsoon” – the most epic cannonball that was ever created (sort of a cannonball/stride jump hybrid), they also saw the Milky Way for the first time, and, with bellies full of s’mores, we watched the Perseid meteor shower. It was, perhaps, one of the very best moments of my life. 

 

And then, just to gild the lily, my beloved friend Jess and I decided at the eleventh hour (aka the last day of August) to resurrect our annual swim day that had been on hold during the pandemic and we met up at Kelso. It was rainy and chilly, and after huddling on camping chairs with coffee and cookies, we decided it was time to swim. It was the perfect end to a swim-filled summer. 

Last summer, I swam in Lake Erie for the first time; the year before that, it was Lake Huron, and this year, it was Georgian Bay, not technically a different Great Lake, but Great Lake adjacent! It was my first time camping at Killbear and it was positively glorious. It felt like I was living inside a Group of Seven painting, with the rocks and the sparse trees. 

 

This wasn’t the first time I’d swum in Georgian Bay. The first time was years ago. I was nineteen, or maybe twenty, and visiting a friend’s cottage. His dad had just died and his mom was grieving and it was so sad and the skies knew it. It was grey and rainy the entire time we were there. 

 

We went snorkelling—the first time I’d ever been snorkelling, but the water was so cold, and I was freezing and the water was rough and churned up the sand, and the only thing we saw was a crayfish.

 

This visit to Georgian Bay was much better. Each morning, we would gather on a huge rock face while the kids searched for minnows and slid down the slippery surface into the chilly water. The water wasn’t warm-warm, but was still very swimmable and we spent our days sitting on the sun-warmed rocks, chatting and reading and handing snacks to kids while they searched for minnows with nets we found at the General Store. The mosquitoes nearly capsized my youngest, and a whole in the air mattress nearly did me in, but we hiked and stopped for a swim, and hiked again and found a beach to swim at, and found beaches and more swimming spots and it was a most perfect four days. 

When I picture lakes, I picture Haliburton lakes—placid, benign, with waves only lapping at the shores if there’s a motor boat. But I recently arrived home from a three-day camping trip on the shores of Lake Erie, and can still feel the lilt of the huge, relentless waves when I close my eyes. What a glorious lake. What a glorious beach – all sand (though my four-year-old was very upset that there wasn’t any beach glass)

I hadn’t been camping in years. Not since my late twenties when I was in a terrible relationship and had a very close encounter with a bear. My back/hip/shoulder are too creaky for thermarests, and for years, I told myself that my kids were too little. BUT then I learned about huge, cushy blow-up air mattresses, and my kids are potty-trained, and no longer napping and a friend had booked extra days at a campsite that she wasn’t going to use, AND the site was next to a beach and all of a sudden, there were no more excuses. 

And so, we borrowed tents and air mattresses and camping chairs, and made list after list after list, and drove up to Long Point Provincial Park with our bird identification books, and a pile of bathing suits. 

I should really be packing. We're off to swim in a lake (two lakes, actually!) in a bit, but I went for a swim this morning in between the rain and the epic thunderstorm and my suit is drying, so I'm telling myself I can't possibly pack anything else right now...

But I must share the best little swimming hole before I go...

On the day before my oldest kid ended daycare, I drove west to meet up with one of my dearest pals for our *second* annual swimming road trip day (last year, we went here!). We started at Pinehurst Lake for a swim and a picnic and it was lovely. The beach isn't huge, and cordoned off swimming area wasn't too big, but we ducked under the rope and swam and treaded water and chatted. Then I swam as much of the lake as I could (it's very reedy by the edges!) and we picnicked and it was tremendously fun.

But we were two moms sans kids, and didn't want to stop at just one swimming hole, so we ducked over to Shade's Mills Lake for dip #2.

The beach was big and the lake was shallow, with a lovely sandy bottom. Across the lake was a bunch of hydro towers, but I liked to think of them as extra large lifeguard towers). We ducked under the rope and treaded water, trying to avoid the weeds. (Oooh, also we didn't, but you can also rent canoes there!)


And so, when I had my newly brave swimmer out of daycare, with a whole day in front of us, I decided that even though it's near Cambridge, just under an hour's drive from Toronto, Shade's Mills was the perfect lake for a mid-August swim.

It was perfect – the beach was big, the sun was hot, the lake was not (but also not too cold) and it was shallow enough for my 4.5-year-old to get really comfortable in the water. We swam, and picnicked, and swam again, then read and wrote letters, then swam some more and built sandcastle with our lunch containers and it was a most perfect day.

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

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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.

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UPDATE August 30, 2016:

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

White sand beaches, turquoise water and only 2.5h from Toronto. It seems almost impossible, but it's not. Sandbanks is a truly exceptional place, and the site of one of my very favourite swims of all time.  Sandbanks is the world's largest baymouth barrier dune formation (and as the step-daughter of a geomorphologist who studies sand dunes, it's kind of a big deal), but mostly it's the Caribbean Sea-like water that has my heart.

A step-by-step guide to Sandbanks swimming:

Step 1: Make sure you've got cash. And by cash, I mean $5s, loonies and twoonies (See Step 11!) And if you're as impatient as I am, put your suit on under your clothes. You never know when there'll be a swimming hole along the way.

Step 2: Leave the city as early as possible. No seriously, we left at 2:20pm and *still* got caught in Friday afternoon traffic. Either way, make sure you're stocked with wine gums and if you've been able to get your mom to watch your kid, take advantage of baby seat-free space and revel in all that leg room. Crank the tunes. Google the directions.
Step 3: When you turn into the Sandbanks road, the trees will dapple the road and your windshield. (Note: a day-use permit is $11.25, but I promise it's so, so worth it!)

Step 4: If you don't already have your suit on under your clothes, there are change rooms and washrooms in the parking lots.

Step 5: Make sure you've got your sunscreen, water, post-swim snacks, sun hat, towels, reading material...



Step 6: Climb the sandy hill (a dune!) up from the parking lot. The first glimpse of that white sand and the blue-blue lake will be breathtaking. Pause. Revel. Pinch yourself – yes, you are still in Ontario!



Step 7: Spread out your towel(s). Have some water, some chips, read a few pages of your book/magazine. Get so hot you can't possibly stand the sun any longer. Start wading into the lake.

Step 8: Keep wading. You can walk for 200m and still only be up to your thighs!

Step 9: Dive under. Float. Front crawl. Blow bubbles. Be amazed by how clear the water is. Pinch yourself again, yes, this is Lake Ontario.

Step 10: Repeat steps 7-9 over and over again.



Step 11: Once you've decided it's time to pack up, start scanning the side of the road for honour-system eggs/asparagus/strawberries. Pull over every single time. Be grateful you loaded your pockets with coins.

Step 11.5: Stop at every barn sale and antique shop and yard sale. You never know when you'll find a tupperware container filled with swim badges*



Step 12: Celebrate your lake swim with wine and pizza at Norman Hardie. Toast your stroke with oysters and sparkling rosé (and food truck donuts!) at Rosehall Run.

Step 13: If it's G&T time (and when is it not?) I recommend a gin-tasting at the 66 Gilead Distillery. Say hi to the chickens, and marvel at the antique quilts and coupes and tablecloths. I'd also recommend a swing on the tree swing, your lake-wet hair drying in the breeze. (Note: it closes at 5pm. Happy hour comes early in The County).
Step 15: As you drive home, with your hair still smelling like lake, continue to stop at every barn sale/honour-system produce stand. The vintage 10kg sugar sack you will maybe one day will sew into something useful will always remind you of that brilliant turquoise swim.

P.S.: More swim roadtripping: to Harold Quarry!


* Note: I did not find a container full of swim badges, though I wish I had. I did find a jar of Scout badges, but it's not quite the same...

What I wore to this majestic party...

A two piece suit, the color of Easter.
Absurd lavender river shoes.
The faint stain of a snapping turtle's kiss.
Minnows darting around my ankles.
A couple strands of slender weeds.
Sky braided into my hair.
A soft cover of tannin and cloud.
Water stained palms, the color of Earl Grey tea.

I didn't know how to tread water. I failed my red badge three times in one summer, my hands and legs too frantic to keep me afloat for the requisite minute. But at the cottage I found the sandbar, far enough out from the dock that it looked like it should be deep. I stood on the sand bar and waved my arms across the surface of the water, shouting to my mom to look, look, I was treading water!