. . . And That Was Fun.

In High School I once told a Navy recruiter that I thought it would be fun to be a Navy SEAL. He asked me if I liked being wet and cold. I said "No." He told me to pursue other careers. I don't know why, but for some reason that conversation didn't pop into my head back in October when I was recruited for the Law Enforcement Eskimo Plunge. It seemed like a great idea at the time. It was October, almost seventy degrees outside, and the event benefited the Special Olympics. I thought it would be a good way to make up for all of those "short bus" jokes I've made in my life, and how cold could it get in February anyway? To add to the incentive, I would be participating as part of a team that had a designated Fund Raiser who didn't take the plunge, but raised money instead. I was all out of reasons not to go plunging. That was, of course, until last week when I realized that the Eskimo Plunge was no longer in the distant future. My enthusiasm was additionally lessened when I was told that the event location, Harrisburg's City Island, was in question due to "ice flow issues." Ice! I didn't sign up for ice!

At noon today I became painfully aware that our unseasonably warm autumn had turned into a seasonably cold winter. I stood on the northern tip of City Island and shuddered with my three teammates (and McGruff the Crime Dog) as we listened to the ice crackling by us as it flowed downstream. I was already cold and I hadn't even stripped to my swimming trunks yet! Side note: If you ever undertake an Eskimo Plunge, Corona board shorts and a Navy watch cap will not be appropriate attire. A least it was a dry cold, that humid cold really drains you. After groaning and mumbling for a few minutes we all trudged to the section of the "beach" designated for our endeavor and began to disrobe. Apparently we were a tad slow in our preparation because, without warning, a stampede of nut jobs sprinted past us and into the water while hooting and hollering along the way. We timidly began to follow behind, but gradually got caught up in the hoopla as we approached the river. The water was shockingly cold. My legs numbed almost immediately as we charged forward. It really was a bizarre scene, a mass of humanity charging forth to the waterfront, only to experience shock and pain. It was like Melville and Poe had collaborated to create some sort of sadistic tale. As I waded deeper and deeper into the water I felt a thousand ice fragments bumping into my legs. Fortunately, I had been advised to wear shoes on this adventure. As the water passed crotch level, myself and two teammates decided that we would like children to continue to be a future option, and turned back. The fourth team member charged forth, not content until an official in a dry suit turned him back.

Leaving the water, I was beginning to think that things hadn't gone all that bad. I could have stayed in longer (thus the genius of hypothermia)! Then the wind hit me, and the real race began. The three of us charged through the crowd, laughing, as the most extreme cold I had ever felt assaulted my body. Why were we laughing? I have no idea. There was nothing funny going on. As I returned to where Roverine was awaiting with warm clothes she pointed to my legs and cried, "What happened?" My lower body was covered in small trickles of blood, cut by razor sharp ice that I had barely felt. It wasn't just me, three of our team suffered the same fate. The fourth? The one who charged neck deep into the abyss? Unscathed. Fortune favors the bold.

Upon grabbing my clothes we (now down to two) ran for the heated changing tents, only to find them full. This was to our fortune, as we later discovered that the overcrowding had led to a heater igniting the clothes of some poor soul, who escaped uninjured. Instead of waiting in line we chose to hide "behind" an RV to change. I say "behind" because it was only so to humans. To the wind it was "along the way." Naked except for a beach towel, my numb fingers struggled with shoelaces that had frozen as stiff as electrical cable. How I got my trunks off before my shoes I still don't know, but I soon found them frozen to the ground beside my backpack. I eventually managed to get some warm clothes on in a haphazard manner that included an inside-out shirt and unzipped blue jeans. A stranger was kind enough to point out the open fly, but only after mocking my bloodied feet. He later also pointed out that I was eating my napkin along with my hot dog. What would we do without strangers? After getting fully dressed, fed, and filled with hot chocolate the team gathered again to laugh at our stupidity, and make plans for next year's event.

At the end of it all the Eskimo Plunge was exactly the type of adventure I've been yearning for. A few months back I realized that I hadn't had any really good excitement for awhile. A body goes stale if goes without bruises for a time. I needed a good knocking about. like the time I tried to learn to play rugby, or the time it tried to ride my bike down four flights of stairs, or the time I wrestled a Marine. You get the point. Though I dreaded it, and always will dread it, I really enjoyed the Eskimo Plunge and might just make it a yearly event. On with the pictures.

The Team

I hate McGruff the Crime Dog.

The River.

The Ice.

The End (I'm the shirtless guy behind Scary Elvis).