Every summer, Lac Louisa kids compete in swim meets against neighboring lakes in a day of fun and excitement, nervousness, cheering, sunshine, and swimming. Today was one of those: the annual Bi-lake meet where Lac Louisa faces up against Lac Marois. It was the first meet since summer 2019 (because, Covid). The last time we were here, both of my kids worked at the club and both swam in the meet. It was Eliza’s last year of eligibility (age 16) and I remember feeling nostalgic about that, but also thinking that at least Hazel had a couple more years.
Nope. Now, Hazel has aged out, too. But as a staff member, she spent the day working hard; encouraging the swimmers she’s been coaching in swim team all summer, making sure they got to their designated spots at the right time; coaxing reluctant swimmers into the water, and cheering them on when they did it.
With no kids swimming, I didn’t really have to go to the meet today. I decided to go to keep Isabel company and to experience a new place to swim. But as it turned out, I had a great time and remembered what fun these swim meets are; even more so when I don’t have any kids to worry about.
And, the swim in Lac Marois was a delight. It’s a non-motorized lake, which is dreamy for open water swimming. I still swam along the shoreline, but more so to ogle the houses than because I was worried about boats. I started off in the small cove beside the clubhouse where the meet was taking place and at first, the plant growth was alarmingly thick; an underground forest that kept growing taller as I swam along.
I realized I’d soon be swimming through it and so I turned around in search of deeper water. I soon found it. As I swam out of the cove, the water got so deep I couldn’t see the bottom and stayed that way for nearly my whole swim. This depth was one way Marois was different from Louisa, but mostly, I found the waters very similar.
I stopped to watch the meet from across the bay, which offered a fun vantage point. Then I continued along to a little island. There was a sweet house on the island and a crooked bridge connected it to the mainland. It was charming.
I wanted to swim around, but when I got to the bridge, the water got quite shallow and I convinced myself creatures were living in the slats under the bridge—at least an ogre or two—and so I turned around and swam back the way I came.
My return trip was quicker; now that I’d already seen all of the houses I wasn’t as distracted by them and swam steadily along.