THE SECRET SWIMMING HOLE

There is a place in the national forest only a few folks know about. It's the kind of place so special that those who do know about it, guard its secret, and only pass it down to those who they are certain can keep their secret. A friend of mine, Teresa, once showed me.

Even if I wanted to tell you how to get there, I couldn't. The directions are more from memory than actual place names; there are no addresses in a forest. You first get out of town on the Interstate, but soon turn off it at the river, tun up the river--then it gets complicated. The main road continues to climb up the mountains while the river cuts deeper and deeper, and slips away, out of sight. There's a turn at the old store. and then another turn, and then a turn onto a gravel road that maybe has a number on a map, but certainly has no posted sign. Then you park at the wide spot of gravel. Once, when we parked, there was another vehicle, but the other times, we've had it all to ourselves.

Once you park, there's a small, unmarked trail. It drops quickly down the slope, switch backing about a mile deeper into the forest. As soon as we had begun to hike, we were both sweating. It was a hot summer day, even in the mountains. Teresa stripped off her shirt, hung it over her backpack, and continued. the move was bold, and surprising, and beautiful. I knew I was in store for something very special.


I know return each summer, at least once, to the secret spot. This past year, I shared it with my girlfriend. I knew of course she's comfortable being naked around me, but would she be comfortable stripping nude, as Teresa had on my first visit? I my mind, I was worried that maybe somehow the place would not be as magical, as remote and special if she didn't have the same sort of awe, and child-like innocence of this special place.

After the first mile, the trail flattens out and winds through a patch of old growth. Then it breaks out onto a gravel and sand beach. When we got there, we stripped down. We were both soaked with sweat and ready for the cool mountain water. The water of lakes and big rivers is always opaque, but mountain water is crystal clear. Sometimes you can see deep as 15 feet to the rocks below.

There's a spot on the upper side of the swimming hole where you can dive off, about a 10 foot drop. I pointed it out to my girlfriend, and she was eager to try. Once you dive in, you can swim in the deep, clear pool. The current gently tugs you down, back toward the beach. There's a rock you can climb out of the river and sit on and soak up the sun to get warm and dry, and then hot, and then ready to dive back in. Wet and dry, wet and dry, the cycle of summer days by a river.


Hair tangled, feet sore from walking barefoot on river rocks, not yet summer tough. Shoulders getting sunburned, and eyes flashing with the water's reflection. It is a perfect way to spend a day.