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.

After last year's cold, thunderstorm-y and small baby-filled summer, I've decided to stuff two summer's worth of fun into one. I don't think I've slept since mid-June, but I kind of don't care. It's all fun all the time full steam ahead until the pools close, (and even then, I'm not sure it'll stop!)

And so, in the spirit of ALL SUMMER ALL THE TIME, on Friday we packed a picnic, and a pile of towels and drove up through Guelph to the Elora Quarry. (I realized on the drive up that the last quarry I swam at was 8 (!) years ago in Nebraska!)

The 1.5h drive is so southern Ontario – the sprawling lanes of the 401, then moving on to small highways and fields of what might be wheat, and small towns and smaller towns, and roadside signs for eggs and strawberries. You have to drive through the adorable little town of Elora, but we didn't stop – there was a quarry to get to!


We pulled in with a screaming baby (not ideal), but I got to nurse her in the parking lot with a view of the quarry (totally ideal!). The lot is perched at the top of the quarry, with 40 foot rock faces plunging down to the almost-Lake Louise green water below.

The walk down to the water is beautiful – all trees and more trees, shading the walk (Apparently there is a hiking loop around the water).

And then just like that, the trees end and give way to a beach. It's not a huge beach, and there is very little shade, but it's a beach! And there is water! And we met up with our pal and her kiddos and it was so perfectly summer, I still have to pinch myself.

We got there at 11:30am and the beach was already starting to fill up. We spread out our towels and picnic blankets, and changed right there (though there are changerooms, bathrooms, too, but I was too lazy to walk back, and put my patented went-to-dance-school-quick-change skills to work).


There's a little roped off shallow end off the beach that is perfect for little kiddos. It's pretty rocky though (it is a quarry after all!) and I know my 3.5-year-old would've wanted water shoes if he had been with us.

On the far side of the rope, it's still pretty shallow for a few more feet and then it just drops off.

We played with the kids in the shallows for a while (marvelling at our baby's deep insatiable love of water!), and then I took off for a swim around the quarry, dodging a flotilla of blow-up unicorns and swans and hippos and flamingos. It's not big – it maaaaaybe took 10 minutes to swim the circumference, but it's so lovely. The water is thick and green in the sun, and there are weeds along the very edges, but not in the middle. Doing a back float right in the centre, with the rock faces towering above is magical.

I could've floated in the centre of that quarry all day.

After we swam and splashed and splashed and floated, we picnicked, (because OF COURSE WE DID!) and I'm not sure there's anything more delicious than post-swim farmer's market cherries and handfuls on handfuls of popcorn, even with handfuls of sand mixed in!

I didn't ever want to leave, but baby naps and daycare pickups, etc etc, and so we hit the road...

Stops we couldn't make because the overtired baby was finally asleep, but I wish we had:
- there's a side of the road flower stand on the 86 near Ariss – bring change/small bills!
- there's a chip truck right across from the parking lot at the Quarry. I will dream of those too salty chips until I can actually try them
- ice cream in Elora. Dang sleeping baby...


Practical details:

*The maximum capacity is 1,300 which seems IMPOSSIBLE, but there you have it. It sounds from the website like that happens sometimes, so go early if you can. It's open from M-F from 11am-8pm and on the weekends from 10am-8pm.

*It's open till Labour Day (though I've been warned it gets a little funky come mid-August).

*The park fees are here.

*We took our own PFDs, but apparently they have a lifeguard loaner program with a "small refundable deposit" - ask at the gatehouse when you park!

*No booze or dogs!

*Here's the official site

*Also, there's tubing down the Elora Gorge which everyone raves about, so if that's your jam, here's how to get there!

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.

*SEE NEW UPDATES BELOW!!!! The fanmail keeps coming!*

* * * * *

Original Post: July 15, 2016:

I have THE best people in my life.

Last summer, one of my early swimming hole posts here on this blog featured a photo that my friend Carmen took of me at her pond, the Schoolhouse Riviera. I was about to undo my hairdoo to jump in. It's a wonderful, arty, dancey kind of shot. Can't plan this kind of thing. It's just a moment.

I had no idea that this was the shot that would inspire a knockoff, let alone a series.

Instigated first by my clever friend Rob... these started showing up oh-so-subtly on Facebook and Instagram and other places I would bump into them.

I laugh so hard looking at them.

And I feel, weirdly, just SO HONOURED. It's the best.


********


Side Note: incredibly it was almost a year ago that we 3 swimmers started this blog. Today we are embarking on our FIRST EVER group road trip together. We're going RIVER SWIMMING in Gatineau with another dear one. So many of our favourite things all in one weekend. I'm so excited I might burst.

Stay tuned for the Road Trip Report!

* * * * *

UPDATE JULY 29, 2016:

The fanmail keeps a-coming... from all across Canada...



UPDATE AUGUST 7, 2016:

And now all the way from Texas too!




UPDATE SEPTEMBER 8, 2016:

And a few more...!




 xo Lo

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.

1). For optimal results, take a roadtrip with your favourite swimmers. Land at the most beautiful home and hug your host tight tight. Be so grateful she lives on a river. Pinch yourself.



2). At happy hour, pull on your trackpants and start a roaring fire. Sip your watermelon-rosemary-gin cocktail out of a gold paper straw. Pinch yourself.



3). As the fire settles into embers, sip a Lavender French 75. Cheers your swimming besties.



4). Start cooking over the fire. I recommend a clambake.

5). Devour clambake from Step 4 as the sun sets. Feel so grateful for this weekend and your brilliant, inspiring, hilarious friends.

6). Grab a headlamp, or the world's brightest flashlight.

7). Douse yourself in bug spray and/or pull up your hoodie and tie the hood tight. Socks, optional but recommended.



8). Make s'mores. They will be your river swimming fuel.



9). Realize on the walk to the river that the flashlight also doubles as a transistor radio. Crank it. Find a reggae station. Have a dance party.

10). Take the canoe out for the summer's first midnight paddle. Watch out for the rocks. Marvel at how still the river is, how quiet it is on the water. The one lone firefly will make up for the lack of stars.

11). Paddle back to the dock and tie up the canoe. Ditch your trackpants in a puddle on the dock. Jump, even if you're still not convinced you're a jumper-inner.

12). Swim out to the middle of the inlet. Float on your back, let the water fill your ears. Revel in the silence and the calm and the perfect.

13). When you can't stand the cold any longer, rush the ladder. You can't move fast enough...

14). Wear your towel like a cape and dry off enough to pull your trackpants back on. #teamtrackpants4evah



15). Warm yourself by the fire upon your return. Roast marshmallows. All the marshmallows.

16). Sleep better than you have in months.

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...

Clockwise: Rhya's flip turn badge, Patrice's nightswimming badge, Laura's roadtrip-to-swimming-hole badge and my remembering-to-pack-post-swim-snacks (namely swim biscuits) badge.

I can still remember the last day of swimming lessons, where, after we finished the final game of frozen tag in the shallow end, Jennifer or Rebecca or Mark or Andrew would hand me my report card, towel wrapped around my shoulders, my mom waiting on the other side of the fence. I can still see the blue-ish photocopy of the girl swimming on the front of the Canadian Red Cross report card.

But even before opening it up to the the checkmarked boxes, or the empty boxes (damn treading water!), there was the thickness of the report card. If there was a badge stapled to the inside, you passed! Onto the next colour! But if it was thin, no dice.

(Now that I'm thinking about it, it's kind of like receiving grant acceptances/rejections in the mail these days...)

But badges! Rhya mentioned badges the other day on our months-long swimmers text thread and I literally dropped everything and started stitching.

• Flip turns? TOTALLY A BADGE! 
• Nightswimming in the nearby river? BADGE! 
• Driving, finding a different swimming hole, missing ice cream, the finding the right swimming hole? BAAAAAADGE! 
• And my own humble badge, celebrating when I remember to pack a post-swim snack so I don't turn into a monster on the bike ride home. 

But it's no fun to just have one badge to sew to your bathing suit! So I made docktail/rocktail badges too!



Clockwise: Caesers, Dark and Stormys, Aperol Spritz and a classic gin and tonic.

I have been to Harold Quarry three times.

The first time was many years ago. Rural Ontario can be ridiculously hot in the height of summer – the year we went was before C had built her pond at the Schoolhouse, and so what we used to do in those days was sleep-in (hot), have breakfast outside (hot), and then hang about getting hotter. Cruise around the garden, play frisbee, read books on Muskoka chairs, play croquet and drink Pimm's. When it got to be too much – the heat – we'd all pile in the car and find a local swimming hole.

I remember Harold Quarry as having a HUGE rock cliff wall that people were jumping off. Daredevils, I thought. I would never. I remember the water being packed with people -- families, teenagers, hooters and hollerers. I remember the water being that clear quarry blue, and I remember thinking (having never swam in a quarry before) that it was deep and exciting and colourful.

Earlier this summer, I went on a solo roadtrip that took me back to that area of Ontario, and I tried to re-find the Harold Quarry.

So I made a little "Destination Guide" here for you, in case you want to go. You could do a road trip. I've organized the whole thing and made you a map too. Here you go:

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Step 1: Get yourself to Campbellford, Ontario

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Step 2: Kick-off Picnic at "The Other Quarry"

When I got to Campbellford on my road trip, I couldn't remember the name of the quarry we'd gone to all those years ago, so I started googling "swimming quarries" in the area. This led me to the Seymour Conservation Area, which has a parking lot, and a hiking trail, and a path to its swimming quarry. WHICH IS AWESOME. When I saw it, I knew it wasn't the one I was looking for because it didn't have the ENORMOUS cliff wall that I remembered, but boy oh boy is this place gorgeous.

A mirror for the perfect puffy-cloud-skies that Campbellford country is famous for, and grassy lawns all round that are perfect for your picnic blanket and your best Manet impression.

Here's a picture. Nice, right? Highly recommend.



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Step 3: Back in the Car

Here's where I have done some important research work for you, because amazingly, the Harold Quarry does not come up so willingly on Google searches. And the guy in the pickup truck in the parking lot at Seymour who had lived there all his life had no idea there even WAS another quarry in the area.

So here's what you do: drive through Campbellford up the hill to the big church and hang a right where the sign says "TO STIRLING." Follow that road (#8 on a map) all the way till it dumps you off at a stop sign in Stirling. The drive is super pretty. You can get a soft-serve cone at the Empire Cheese Factory on the way, but only if you arrive before 5pm SHARP. You cannot get ice cream after that. It's a surprising fact for city folk, and a real drag I know, but you must accept the ways of Small Town Ontario.



At the stop sign, turn left and head into Stirling. You'll pass the Black Dog Family Restaurant. I didn't go there. You'll drive through the cute and tiny town, where they have Jimmy's Special Pizza. I didn't go there either, but it sounds pretty good. At the corner where the Mac's Milk is, you want to turn left and STAY left on the road to Marmora, not Madoc. They are wildly different places. As a bonus, Marmora is awesome when you say it really fast and I recommend this as a fun car activity at this corner.


So now you're on the Stirling-Marmora Road, which is #14 on a map, and you'll drive by a charming old red barn that says "Apple Place ahead", followed by the not-so-charming actual Apple Place shortly after. On your right, you will pass a big barn and a farmhouse store called "BUFF STUFF". They sell buffalo mozzarella and other buffalo... stuff. I didn't go there either, despite my caprese salad hobby, but maybe you should just stop in and tell me how it is.


Now you have to pay attention, because you're going to get to a road sign that says "HAROLD" and about 500m later in the opposite direction, the other "HAROLD" sign will appear. Harold is very small. Soon after that, on the left side of the road, is the entrance to the parking lot for the Harold Quarry. There's no sign except for the "Abandoned Quarry" sign which isn't highly visible, so you'll probably drive right by it, I did both times. But circle back, and now you're here.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Welcome to Harold Quarry

The first thing I noted upon my arrival is that the rock cliff wall is not actually enormous like it was in my memory, but I will still admire you if you jump off it. Because I would never.

Here's a picture of it with my little Babycar. This was the final swimming hole Babycar ever got to visit on her Roadshow, as she had a little episode shortly after and then went to Smart Car Heaven, RIP.


But I digress. There was no one there on that visit to Harold Quarry, and I was cold so I didn't go in.

So I went again on a third trip, and this time, I discovered a Study in Contrasts, for the quarry was inhabited by a nice Mennonite family quietly fishing on one side with their horse-drawn carriage nearby, and by a bunch of crummy kids (Scooby-Doo reference) jumping off the cliff on the other. (*and a condom package under my car tire in the parking area. Ahem.)

You can walk through the farmer's field at the top and see the quarry from different vantage points. There's no shade to speak of, but there are a couple of nice rock shelves here and there that you can sit and dangle your feet off of. But that's about it. You could probably drink a beer and eat some potato chips out of the bag and be pretty happy.

And then you'll get back in your car and that's it. Hooray for Harold Quarry.


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Bonus Material: Roadtrip Music

Oh -- I forgot that I have some awesome musical recommendations for your roadtrip:

1. Andrew Bird's "Echolocations" album from last year was recorded outdoors in a desert canyon and the music weaves in and out of the wind and the water and the birdsong in the canyon. It's mesmerizing and if you feel like a slightly introspective drive through gorgeous countryside, it's a great choice.

2. Really long fun songs are always great car songs. My faves are the Hot 8 Brass Band's version of Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing" -- which just might be The Most Fun Version in the History of the World of that song. I first heard it on that movie "Chef" where they were also on a roadtrip. The movie was ok. Another fun movie-version song that goes nicely right after that one is "Try a Little Tenderness" from The Commitments. And then one of my favourite super-long songs is that old Bruce Springsteen song "New York City Serenade".

Anyway, that's it. Let me know if you make the trek. Bring me back some buff stuff.