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At the Memphremagog Winter Swimming Festival, the thrill is in the chill.
Sporting funky hats, the swimmers shriek and cheer as they wind through a narrow pool cut from 12-inch-thick lake ice.
Why We Wrote This
Outdoor swimming isn’t only a summer sport. Hardy souls at the Memphremagog festival can take the plunge in ice-cold water just for the thrill of it.
When the swimmers reach the end, bundled-up volunteers on the sidelines help them climb back onto the frozen surface, wrap them in coats, and lead them to dry land.
The idea started 10 years ago as a less-than-serious Facebook post, says Phil White, a self-described “water rat” who founded this festival at Lake Memphremagog, which stretches from northern Vermont into Quebec.
He already had organized a summer swim competition each July on the glacial lake and knew many open-water swimmers. To his surprise, 41 swimmers turned out for the festival that first winter. This year, about 175 took the plunge.
Darcie Rivard, whose two teenage daughters competed at the festival, says that among ice swimmers, “if you have a dream, you can probably find someone to help you chase it.”
Expand this story to view the full photo essay.
The water is around 31 degrees Fahrenheit, but they’ve jumped in anyway. At the Memphremagog Winter Swimming Festival, the thrill is in the chill.
Sporting funky hats, the swimmers shriek and cheer as they wind through a narrow pool cut from 12-inch-thick lake ice. When the swimmers reach the end, bundled-up volunteers on the sidelines help them climb back onto the frozen surface, wrap them in coats, and lead them to dry land.
The idea started 10 years ago as a less-than-serious Facebook post, says Phil White, a self-described “water rat” who founded this festival at Lake Memphremagog, which stretches from northern Vermont into Quebec.
Why We Wrote This
Outdoor swimming isn’t only a summer sport. Hardy souls at the Memphremagog festival can take the plunge in ice-cold water just for the thrill of it.
He already had organized a summer swim competition each July on the glacial lake and knew many open-water swimmers. To his surprise, 41 swimmers turned out for the festival that first winter. This year, about 175 took the plunge.
The popularity of ice swimming in the past few years is a ripple effect from the coronavirus pandemic, noted several swimmers at the festival. When pools shuttered during lockdowns, many indoor swimmers ventured outside and began swimming in open water. And some kept returning to their local lakes, ponds, or ocean beaches even well after summer ended.
“All of a sudden, we all became a community of open-water outdoor swimmers,” said Liz Fry, a volunteer at the festival. She is the oldest swimmer to complete the Oceans Seven, the crossing of seven open-water channels around the world.
Darcie Rivard, whose two teenage daughters competed at the festival, says that among ice swimmers, “if you have a dream, you can probably find someone to help you chase it.”
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Mark Sappenfield
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