I start running on the familiar trail at the edge of The Lake. My body warms and settles in to the steady rhythm of my stride. I decide to take a side trail past a pond and through a hilly neighborhood. I feel a sense of relief as I enter the forest, thick with underbrush. I haven't been out this way in quite some time now and the trail is marginal at best, obviously seldom used. Arriving upon a two rut road, hidden in the shadow of tall fir, I run for several hundred yards and find the trail that leads down to Elbow Lake.
The trail becomes more challenging as I descend a lush hill to the edge of this well hidden Lake. I follow the shore in a clockwise direction, too many obstacles to be truly running. No evidence of human encroachment at all, this smaller section of the Lake is more of a separate Pond than anything else. Various waterfowl sporadically inhabit the Water's surface.
The trail becomes much less obstructed as I pass the channel that is the "elbow" of the Lake. I find a very different environment as I run along the now well used trail. I'm at the top of a ridge looking down upon a wide open beautiful Lake. There's a Summer Camp at the far end and I hear the laughter of children at play. I've been running about an hour now and I decide to turn around.
Back at the elbow area, I take a break and sit on an old grey log that juts out above the water. Green and Blue surround me. Looking across the narrow channel I can see a familiar clearing on the far side, maybe 100 feet away. Why not make my little adventure more interesting? I could easily swim across and run back home on a different route. There were obviously weeds at each shoreline, but most of the middle appeared to be open water.
I strip down and bundle up my shoes. I figure it would be easy to keep my clothes dry on this short swim. With not much trouble I wade and swim through the weeds out in to the open water. Nice and easy. The water is cool and refreshing.
About 30 feet from my objective shore, I hit thick weeds that top out just below the Water's surface. Hmmmm... swimming's becoming much more difficult. My strong confidence is a wee bit shaken. It's almost as if the weeds below are grabbing my legs and pulling me down. In my mind, I curse. I realize the danger I'm in. A mere twenty feet or so to dry land, but I'm making almost no progress. I become frantic. I could drown here. I take my bundle of now soaked gear and toss as far as I can toward shore. No thought of clothing now, I am kicking and fighting my way toward shore. I can't keep this up for very much longer, but for some reason I don't even think about passively floating on my back and taking a break. I'm fearful that death is close at hand. My uncontrolled and frenzied thrashing toward shore continues as I make painfully slow progress. My breathing has become so very labored. I can't seem to get enough air in. At the periphery of my vision I somehow take note as a kingfisher swoops down from the trees and chatters chaotically.
I make it to shore. I collapse and regain my breath. I'm safe now. A close encounter and lesson learned.
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