Dreaming-up and executing your own mini adventures is always more satisfying and certainly cheaper than signing up for something and handing over a wad of cash, but when things go a little wrong then it is up to you to get through it and find a way out…..

August 2013 and a group of us headed over to Keswick in the English Lake District. In the last few years we had been bitten by the Triathlon bug and had become increasing addicted to tight-fitting lycra and neoprene. The Lake District is a fantastic location for triathlons but you always know you’re in for a tough day over there, the lakes are usually cold, the biking hilly and the run is normally up a mountain somewhere, but today our focus would be on swimming.

Derwentwater lies at the foot of Keswick and is in a beautiful location, it is approximately one mile wide at its broadest point and three miles long and today we were hoping to swim those three miles. Nathan and Josh had volunteered to paddle along side of us in a safety canoe. The way we planned it was to use two cars, we drove both of them to the finish and left one there,  then drove back to the start at Nichol End Marina in the other car, an elegantly simple and foolproof plan i think you`ll agree.

The weather wasnt the beautiful blue skied day we were hoping for and there was a bit of a breeze blowing on the shore but it was ok and everyone felt good and eager to get into the water. From Nichol End we set off swimming and turned left to get to the northernmost tip which looks well-defined on the map, however it soon got very shallow and clogged up with weeds, so we went as far as we could before turning south and heading for our goal – Kettlewell car park – at the far end of the lake.

The first half a mile or so felt great as you are in a natural sort of bay and it is quite sheltered but as soon as the lake broadened the water became quite choppy, that gentle breeze on the shoreline became quite a stiff head wind in the middle of the lake and we were swimming against it and getting battered by 6 to 10 inch waves whipped up by the wind, this resulted in us getting a face full of water every time we came up for a breath and was hard going. We were in effect swimming the wrong way for the conditions on the day, going south to north would have been so much easier.

We battled on however, ticking off the land mark islands in the lake as we went along and stopping to tread water, rest,  and re-group with our support canoe every now and then. Soon we were past St Herbert’s island and out into the roughest part of the lake which felt more like swimming in the sea at times and our progress was slow and hard but eventually the end of the lake started coming into sight. That last half mile seemed to go on forever and we were getting cold and tired, our thoughts turned to the waiting car and dry warm clothing, steaming coffee and sticky cakes, boy would they taste good ! The southern end of the lake is clogged full of weeds and gets shallow, so again we went as far as we could before turning left and heading for our car. We dragged our cold tired bodies out of the lake and helped beach the canoe, i guess we were in the water for nearly 3 hours. We were elated at having completed our objective in such challenging conditions especially as none of us had swum that far before.

All eyes turned to Andy to get his car open and get the coffee flowing so we could get warmed up, we watched him rummaging in the canoe for the keys. After a few seconds we started to notice a hint of panic in his searching and then the awful truth dawned on his face as he turned to us and said    “i think i left the keys in the other car….”   That next few seconds were like one of those old spaghetti westerns were the tumble weed is blowing over the desert and the only sound is the wind and a distant bell tolling as we stood there in silence, open-mouthed, looking at him in disbelief.

We will be forever indebted to the kind female canoeist who was there with her daughter and just about to set off on the lake who offered to run Andy (still dripping wet and bare-chested ) all the way back round the lake, through Keswick, to Nichol End in her car, while we huddled together like penguins trying to keep warm in a survival shelter (which she also lent us). Many thanks indeed!