Potomac Dip

On the way home from a beer 'n' pot 'n' croquet aging hippy campout in Northern Virginia we crossed the Potomac at historic White's Ferry. Well, my family did anyway, in their car. I didn't go with them... I swam instead. It was about a quarter mile swim, in 57 F water (which is a lot chillier than it sounds), and virtually no current, except for the last few meters. These annoying gits with an outboard stopped to ask me if I was OK about 3/4 of the way across, and when I said that I was, they hung around to point out how stupid I was to be swimming the Potomac in October, etc, etc. So anyway, since none of you were there to see me, I thought it would be advantageous to brag about it.

P.S. Of the three party elements mentioned above, the only one in which I took part was the croquet. I've never met a stranger group of people, but a croquet club made up of ex-hippies does indeed exist. I hung out with their kids while they got drunk/high/won at croquet.