Pangbourne Swim - 2010-11-14

I'm excited to see blue sky out the window having being awoke by the 7.30 alarm. My bag, already packed the night before, bulges with layers with which to scramble on after what promises to be a chilly 1 mile swim down my first river: the Thames. There would be no post-swim shower to aid me in raising my body temperature with which I have become accustomed to at Parliament Hill Lido and I wouldn't have the luxury of a changing area so my sports towel has been substituted for a full sized towel which will keep my modesty intact.

A large bowl of muesli is the breakfast of choice, a carb-fest which would fuel the fire needed to keep me warm and keep the engine going. A quick check through the inventory and i'm on the road to the meeting point at Pangbourne station. The 55 mile journey sees the blue sky turn overcast the further round the M25 I go; come the M4 the motorway signs warn of fog which is met just outside Reading and by the time I reached the station it's looking to be a typical damp dull autumnal morning.

I'm greeted by the sight of around 20 Outdoor Swimming Society members hanging about outside the station, looking like a group of youths outside a local shop who are up to no good, and am welcomed by the organiser Chris before getting chatting to some of the other members whilst we wait for the last to arrive.

The compulsory safety briefing follows which in summary consists of: your safety is your responsibility and rather than an organised event this just happens to be a group of individuals swimming in the same place. This is of no surprise and a welcome change to the tedious health and safety which is insisted on in this day and age for any sort of organised event. In my opinion the removal of responsibility of personal safety is one of the main reasons why swimming has been made a criminal offence in reservoirs and lakes in this country, owners are scared of legal action for someone who does not give water the respect it deserves.

Safety briefing over, we head off to inspect the finish point before making our way to the start where we invade the car park and turn it into an al fresco changing room. Clothes discarded, wetsuits and swimming caps donned, we pose for the obligatory photos and then head across the fields toward the river. Some local fishermen look on in bemusement as our group trapesed round a small lake like migrating seals, rarely seen in these parts admittedly, all in good spirits despite the cold and damp weather.

We reach the river and waste little time in sliding into the cold water which pricks the skin and sends a chill through as I let some into the neck of my wetsuit. Not waiting round, as time in water this temperature is precious with hypothermia just around the corner, we head off downstream with the near non-existent current.

I start off with a breaststroke in the thick green soup, which hides my hands a foot in-front of me underwater; there wasn't going to be any wildlife spotted below the surface today. What I can't see under the water is made up for by the unique perspective I have at water level from the middle of the river: willows and other trees with a residue of autumn leaves them lining the banks. River fowl hug the sides and bubbles on the waters surface map out our route down the river which welcomes us to progress onwards. Occasionally I would break into a front crawl, which soon brings on a headache of the kind which is caught by eating ice cream too quickly, and so I would revert back to breaststroke or flop onto my back or adopt a side stroke.

The group have spread out by now, a few striking out in front and others taking there time. I have partnered up with a guy from Oxford who had kindly given me a lift to the start point in his VW camper (One thing that is so attractive about the whole outdoor swimming scene is that it is a social activity, something that you would not necessarily associate with swimming), chatting as we followed the flow, talking of places we'd been and getting ideas of where to head to next.

We pass a herd of cows on the left bank, intrigued by the strange creatures floating past them, who follow us for a way. A father and son on a moored barge silently looked on as we drift past. After around 20mins we see a couple of the land crew waiting for us at the finish point, this comes as a welcome sight as my hands are telling me that they have had just about had enough of the chilly waters. Another 5 mins and we reach the end, vacating the water with one last cold water rush as the wetsuit empties through the legs which are kept relatively warm during the swim.

I head straight to the kit car and retrieve my bag of layers, taking little time to get as many layers on as I have. The passing cars have the sight of an open air changing room as we strip off out wetsuits on the roadside, prompting the odd bib of the horn. Once we are all changed, and having enjoyed a Thermos cup of tea, we head back to the start point to retrieve the cars before heading to the post swim debrief and lunch at the Swan pub. The official temperature is 7.6 degrees which is a good degree and a half colder than we had thought before entering.

Fed and warmed we all head our separate ways with a healthy glow, a new group of friends and a feeling of well-being that can only be achieved by getting a bit wild.