{890} revision 2 modified: 08-18-2011 17:32 gmt |
I'm an avid open-water swimmer, and other than the quarry and beach, I spend many fridays hoping the water in Falls lake is not too choppy. If it's glassy and smooth (and even sometimes when it's not), I can fall into the hypnotic 4/4 chug of stroke-stroke-stroke-breathe, stroke-str ... not hard, since the brown water is featureless, and the above-water scenery doesn't change much either. Several years ago I was out on Falls lake doing my thing, comfortably clear in the middle of the lake, heading back to the beach. In my unawareness I failed to notice that a thunderstorm had grown in the hot summer afternoon. Normally I'm rather debonaire about these things, but have been in places just before they were struck by lightning, and this felt a little like that. So, SOL Tim starts considering the rather limited options (god) (hold breath for as long as possible) (are they the same?). Just then, some Mexican guy on a kayak comes paddling out of ... nowhere ... and asks me if I need help. I bearhug the back of his boat and we get back to shore before the storm breaks. .... Another friday, another season and I set off with a friend clear across Falls lake, which is far, like 3mi round trip. I chat with a Mexican dude before we launch the ships; i guess he seems a bit familiar, but I'm too nervous, eager, and worrying about the thoughts/abilities of my friend to think much. That swim goes fine, minus all the damned speadboats and the ravenous hunger that sets in afterward. Yesterday I had intended to swim at a pool, but some toddling kid chose to contaminate it, and so back to Falls Lake. It's choppy and hard to swim, and I don't make it as far as intended; again before launching, I meet a Mexican dude, and he asks me if I'm crossing the lake again. I tell him no, not enough time; the water envelops, and I'm back in the swim coma, gone to the point when I get back the sun is down and the moon has risen. Surprisingly, when I get back the Mexican guy and his family are still there, slowly cleaning up BBQ debris by the light of highbeams and one crappy flashlight. It's cool and peaceful on the lake, but they probably should have left half an hour ago; as I go to the restroom to change, I wave to the guy and realize two things simultaneously: (1) fuck, it's been the same guy, (2) he may have delayed departure, gracefully and surreptitiously, until I was back. Curiosity makes me want to ask if he had, to see if coincidence licked me again, but that's not right; I did't. |