Christian Giggenbach
Register-Herald Columnist
This Side of the Fence
Sunday’s sunshine certainly put me in a better mood lickety-split and I hope more enjoyable weather is in store for southern West Virginia so we can finally say goodbye to the winter of 2008. Good riddance. I’m tired of being cold in the mornings.
But I truly won’t be through with Ol’ Man Winter until plunging into the icy waters of Anthony Creek this Saturday, March 8, at 1 p.m. at the Blue Bend Recreational Area in the Monongahela National Forest.
Expectations are running high for the fifth annual Greenbrier Valley Polar Bear Plunge Club and barring any freaky weather within the next six days, I’ve got a good feeling we may see a record turnout with both plungers and spectators.
I hope that it snows, but the swimming hole has its usual blue-greenish clear water.
Through the years, many have queried about why the Polar Bear isn’t scheduled for January, to which I normally respond — “You’re free to start your own club if you feel that passionate about it ...” — but there’s actually a real reason why I’ve selected the first week of March as the club’s annual and only meeting of each year.
The first polar bear event occurred about the third week of February in 2001।Family members were in town and we had stayed up late chatting and drinking more than a few beers when someone suggested that a winter swim at Blue Bend should be in order for the following day.
With the help of our fuzzy, warm imbibed state of minds, my two bros, Thor and Fred, plus Thor’s brother-in-law, Stuart, and I all made a pact that we would jump into Blue Bend.
However, the next day when the fearless group reached the stony beaches of Blue Bend, with the help of clearer — and more notably freezing — states of mind, everyone laughed at me when I suggested it was time for a swim. The outside temperature was in the low 30s, but it was a gorgeous day, much like the one Mother Nature served up for us yesterday.
My intrepid compadres then took off exploring Blue Bend — with its hiking trails, campsites and 200-foot-plus footbridge — leaving Thor and me behind at the stony beach.
Well, I had brought my swimming trunks and had already made up my mind about having my own little “carpe diem” moment regardless of the obvious chickenlike qualities of the aforementioned family members.
I put on my trunks, waded out into the water, plunged in and then immediately got out. That’s when a most unusual chain of events began to occur. My brother Thor then began pacing up and down the beach and muttering to himself words that I couldn’t quite make out.
But after a few moments, it was clear that he was not going to let his little brother upstage him and be the only one to tell our dear mother that he had the guts to jump into Anthony Creek. Mother loved Blue Bend and passed that love down to all six siblings. Plus, had her ailing, feeble body been able to endure it, she would have gladly beaten me to the water.
Well, Thor jumped in the water and at about that time, I saw my little brother Fred pacing about and muttering to himself words that I couldn’t quite make out, but I do remember him lamenting, “Why did he have to do that?”
Fast forward a few minutes and Fred was emerging from the water and after borrowing my trunks, Stuart also made the plunge. The legend had begun.
Mother was ecstatic over hearing the news about the daring winter swim, and I still remember the glint in her eyes as I told the tale of who started the chain reaction. A few weeks later on March 8, mother passed away with her five sons and one daughter at her bedside.
That’s why the Polar Bear Plunge is held on the closest Saturday to March 8 of each year — it’s my tribute to the most fun-loving, daring woman I have ever known. She was fearless.
So come join the fun — plungers and spectators alike — at this year’s GVPBPC. We are raising funds for the nonprofit Child and Youth Advocacy Center of Lewisburg. E-mail me on how to sponsor a plunger. I look forward to seeing everyone this year. . Have a great week.
— Christian lives in Greenbrier County and has never been legally certified as crazy, but he was voted as the No. 1 columnist in West Virginia by the WV Press Association.
(This column was first published by The Register-Herald on March 2, 2008)
