Worst. Idea. Ever.

Lake Michigan on New Year’s Day (outside temp 20 degrees).

+

Rachel, Ryan, & Mike

=

The Chicago Polar Bear Club’s New Year’s Day Swim.
Potentially the coldest, most miserable experience you could possibly have.

Let me just clarify here. There was no sand on the beach, only snow. There was no Baywatch-style running straight into the water. Do you see that pool of icy slush that is separated from the lake by a mass of frozen waves? Well, to get into the actual lake you had to jump waist-deep into the icy sludge, crawl out on top of that little mini-glacier thing, and then slide into the lake and run out deep enough to duck under the three-foot waves while avoiding being hit by chunks of floating ice. Then you had to crawl back out onto the mini-glacier, and slip again into the sludge puddle before making it onto the snow-covered beach. There were obese people getting stuck in the icy slush pool, blocking others from getting out of the water. There were old men wearing nothing but speedos and terry-cloth bathrobes. And once wet, each person who braved the seriously-frigid, hypothermia-inducing temperatures of the freezing lake seemed to become a shrieking, panic-stricken banshee who was too cold to get dressed by themselves and kept yelling at us to help them put their gloves on. It was terrifying.

But on to the awesome, less-like-thousands-of-tiny-knives-piercing-your-flesh parts of New Year’s Weekend!

Best. Ideas. Ever.

Mini-roadtrip from Kalamazoo!
(sorry for the whitewash, Mike’s camera was messed up)

Letting Mike choose the driving music.

Dancing. (yes, those are flashing maracas)

So I’m back in Grand Rapids for the evening; it’s been a good, long break. I’m heading back to SeriousBusiness, South Carolina tomorrow morning, eager to get some work done. More later . . .