You haven’t really gone swimming until you’ve swum in a dugout.
Chlorinated pools are for pansies.
When I was a kid we’d go schlepping in the lake and get all sorts of algae and blood sucking invertebrates in places mother had to aim the power hose.
There was always an adrenalin rush when you waded into the water…you didn’t know what would accompany you out!
But swimming in a dugout is even different from swimming in a lake.
One summer, when I was around twelve, my friend who lived down the road invited me for a sleepover. Before we turned in for the night we went for a swim in this big muddy hole that had been dug by a backhoe (that was still parked in the vicinity) and filled with water so that her horses and cattle could drink.
It was gloriously icy. So much so that my friend had the brilliant idea that we should climb out, stand in the gale force wind that was blowing at the time until we could bear the cold no longer, then jump into the water again with the intention that the water would then seem nice and warm.
And it did.
After about thirty minutes of standing in the cold, jumping in the water and repeating, we retired for the evening
and a good night sleep was had by all.
Until the morning when I had a loving chest cold and a case of laryngitis. But you know what? I was tougher for it.
Looking back I was probably pretty lucky that was all I caught, I think the livestock were not only drinking from the dug out but also using it to do their “business” as livestock has been known to do.
But I remember having
No one, at the time, was worried about germs or bugs or disease. We didn’t come down with rashes or feel the need to bathe in Lysol.
Why the anxiety over antibodies nowadays?
Why do we have to obsessively disinfect to the point of disengagement?