My second trip to the polar bear plunge was on a bright and sunny day in February. The terrain was muddy, the crowd was crazy, and the company was awesome. We braved the mud and got down to the ice early so my friends would have a good view. At about 30 minutes til jump time, I stripped down to my bright blue Speedo to start getting adjusted to the cold. It actually wasn’t too bad – except for when the wind blew across the lake. I walked out onto the ice to take in the sights – and because I could.
I got lined up with the rest of the red-checked wrist bands and waited in the jumper corral for our group to be called out to the ice. Because of the number of jumpers, it was a bit more regimented than last year. When it was my turn, I took a brisk walk off the end of the platform and I was in the icy water.
I knew what to expect and that actually helped. I didn’t feel any anxiety to get out of the water – it was still insanely cold, but not dangerous.
Still, we were somewhat rushed out of the water anyway. I climbed the ladder, announced the water was brisk, and went to go find my pants. The shock of the water, along with the much warmer air, gave my skin a kind of tingly force-field. I met up with my friends and got my gear, then went back to the tents to get changed.
From there, hot chocolate – and a doughnut – and then dinner with the crew.
So, next year? Maybe. It was still an adventure, but I think I’ve gotten the full experience. Anyone want to go along?