The Transplanted New Englander: swimming holes: no. 1

Tunes: Neil Young

Since moving down here last August, all I have heard about is how great this nearby swimming spot called Blue Hole is. My RA's went there during training, a lot of my residents went there, too. Given that I am generally uncomfortable in my bathing suit in front of people I don't know, I wasn't exactly jumping at the opportunity to go down there and check it out myself. Last weekend however, the oppressive nature of the weather became so unbearable that I couldn't put off going any longer. I suggested it to Alie and Emily (my summer roommates and best friends down here), who were totally on board, and also got Seth- our favorite neighbor- to come along.

The drive out to Rawley Springs (which is actually where this Blue Hole place is) was beautiful. In about a year's time, you'd think the novelty of living in religious, farming community would wear off. No way. My appreciation for it has only grown since summer has descended into the Valley. There's something to be said about the comfort felt from the subtle smell of manure, and the warm glow of the green fields as you drive past them- even on the hottest and most humid of days. My windows stay down on days like these, and my sunglasses remain a constant fixture on my face. It's so great.

This Sunday the weather was perfect. Hot, humid air, blue sky, puffy clouds. Arriving at Rawley Springs, we parked along the edge of the road, and gathered only the bare necessities before hiking down to the river. All I could think of while making this treck was how my family would do something very similar to this when I was in middle and high school. We'd find a great spot to park up on the side of the Kancamagus Highway in northern New Hampshire. Like a classy Budweiser print ad, my mother and aunts on the river's edge would be in charge of tossing beers to my uncles who were wading in the river. Often times this would include dramatic retrevals of runaway beers and big splashes. My cousins and I were generally preoccupied with more important matters such as attempting to move boulders on the river bed so when we let the current take us down a slight incline, we wouldn't break our tail bones. Those were the days.

Anyways, back to Sunday. Blue Hole was pretty packed. Lots of people, lots of dogs, lots of noise. All of this really just made it more endearing to me. The sun was brutal, but the water was amazing- clear and cool. Had the enormous Golden Retriever hadn't been wandering around and rubbing up against me everytime I was on the banks of the river, it would have been perfect.

The best part about Blue Hole is that it completely lives up to the name. The main swimming spot is located where this enormous blue...hole is found in the water. It seems like the enormous boulder on the north edge of the river (where everyone jumps from) was pulled up by people at some point, leaving this massive deep spot in the water bseide it. Emily & Seth jumped hand in hand at one point, ha, and Alie and I played Mom's by sitting in the water on a nearby boulder holding their things.

We left fairly early as Emily needed to work. But after getting back to the apartment, the three of us who didn't have to work decided to go and find another swimming hole to beat the heat. The drive that followed was even more beautiful than the one earlier in the day- we drove through Mossy Creek and down this back road into the Geaorge Washington National Forest. Seth was determined to have us check out this cliff-jumping spot he's super fond of on Todd Lake out there. The roads we drove on were more like big, gravel trails and my Volvo was probably pretty annoyed with me for making her drive down there. We arrived at this dam in the middle of the woods and hiked up the side of the hill that meets the lake. It was unnerving- the trail was small and uphill- which meant the edge of the lake sunk further and further away from us and soon enough the hill we were on turned to a sort of ledge with trees. I forget how afraid of heights I am because I don't often put myself into situations to be up high. As we reached the platform Seth has jumped from, my legs and hands were shaking- and not just from the little hike we had done to get there. 60 feet seems a lot further down than it sounds. Thankfully, we opted to drive elsewhere to swim as the lower platforms to jump from were swarmed with a bunch of Ukranian people.

We ended up in the town of Stokesville right outside of the National Forest; under a one lane bridge and swimming along side this adorable Virginian family that had thick accents, floaties and the obligatory Budweisers in a foam cooler...

This is Seth & our new friend Amos. A fearless nine-year old, Amos didn't hesitate to strike up conversation with us- especially Seth. He even let him use the coveteted innertube- only to flip Seth over moments later. So great. His little brother, Mickey, was even more adorable.