A recent discussion group I joined posed the question "talk about your favorite childhood memory" and that sent me on a trip down memory lane. While the memory I shared with the group was a different one, one of the memories that came to mind was our time at the swimming hole. The painting below was done by my sister Fran, and is a much clearer representation of the features I'm going to talk about than the actual photos that I'll share later.
First of all, to put this in context, here's a map of the area where we grew up.
"The Ranch", as we called it, is the set of buildings near the bottom of the map, with our house, my sister Nel's mobile home, and the barn all showing. The Middle Fork of the Chowchilla River runs through the property behind the house, but most of the river is pretty shallow as it runs through our property, especially in the summer. The green circle is the approximate location of the swimming hole, so to get there we followed a trail through fields and up and down hills to arrive at our desired destination, the deepest swimming hole on our stretch of the river. It was spring-fed, so even in summer when the river stopped running it remained a cool resource. While it wasn't on our own property, we had permission from my great-aunt Hazel, who owned the surrounding property, and from the Gordon's who eventually acquired the property near the river, to trespass for swimming purposes.
You might wonder why a place to swim holds such a prime spot in my childhood memory bank. Well, there are two ways to explain this: 1) It's HOT in this area in the summer, so we were always happy to get relief from that heat. I recall a summer where it hit over 100 degrees every day in July, with the hottest temperature I recall being 121! 2) It's the country, and you have to make your own fun! Hopefully some of the examples I share will help you understand why it was a spot that provided hours of entertainment for us country kids.
First of all, the rules. The first rule was: you weren't allowed to swim until your chores were done. In most cases, that was feeding the chickens, pulling weeds, or some other outdoor chore. So that made the cool water all the more refreshing. The second rule was: you weren't allowed to swim alone, so that meant you had to coerce a sibling or friend to go with you. So not only did you need to get your own chores done, you had to get your sibling to get theirs done too! The third rule was: you couldn't swim until at least 1/2 hour after eating. The warning was that you would get stomach cramps if you went swimming too soon afterward. I don't know if that's true because I never tested it. The fourth rule was: you had to use "swim towels", which is what we did with bath towels that had lost most of their absorbency. You better not let Mom catch you using "good towels" for swimming! As an adult I can better understand why she would be so upset, since they often came back dirty and stickery.
The trail to get there was an adventure in itself. I clearly remember one summer after my Mom started working at Coast Hardware seeing her, all suited up in a face mask and vest with reflective warning tape, weedeater in hand, clearing the trail to the swimming hole. Too bad I don't have any pictures of that, it was a memorable sight! She definitely took advantage of the Coast employee discount, and it was to our benefit that she expanded her weedeating equipment and territory.
The trail was usually well-worn by July, since we tromped the same path to the swimming hole as often as we could. Initially, you had to cross a barb wire fence to get out of our property, which was an obstacle in itself for my 5-year-old self. Later on, my Dad put a gate in the fence so that eliminated that first barrier. From the side gate you went across the field, then "down and up" a very steep hill with a creek at the bottom, across the rocks, past the "Indian Rock" (that itself provided hours of entertainment, but that will have to be a separate story), along the trail that clung to the hillside to the sandy river bottom, and shortly after that you got to the swimming hole.
I remember we had a rule that the oldest had to be first in line, the youngest was second in line, and from there up in age. So when I was a kid I was usually second. The idea was if there was anything "dangerous" in the path, the oldest, assumed to be the most responsible, would take care of it. The most common "danger" we could imagine would be a rattlesnake, although I never remember encountering one on this particular trail. There used to be a family joke about the first person killing the snake, the second eating it, and the third throwing the bones off the trail. I don't recall if there were more roles for when more than three children were in line, but I think it was just a way for my sisters to scare me or gross me out!
Once we arrived at the swimming hole, we were more than ready for a refreshing dip because tromping down that trail in 100+ degree heat got you warmed up! Depending on the time of year, you could either dive right in or you had to get in a little at a time. The decision was based on the time of summer, early in the summer the water was deeper, but later in the summer, because it was spring fed, it was colder and you needed more time to get used to it.
As I describe the features I'll repost the painting so you can see what I'm talking about.
Feature #1: the small rock you stood on to get in. It's in the middle right of the painting, surrounded by trees. Unfortunately, the water was usually deep next to this rock, and the bottom was very rocky so you couldn't easily walk in from this entry point. We usually held onto the tree and eased our way into the water, finding toeholds in the roots of the tree to climb down.
Feature #2: Our favorite activity was sliding down the large rock in the middle of the photo. We would soap up our bathing suit bottoms to make them more slippery, then push off from the top, sliding as fast as we could, and whoosh! into the deepest water we'd go. The reason we used soap was we had a large number of hotel-sized bars at home, I think because my grandfather worked at a motel or something. I bet you never wondered what happened to all that leftover soap, did you? And I don't recall ever giving a thought to the potential damage we were doing to river dwelling creatures. We did notice our swimsuit bottoms wore out quickly though!
Feature #3: The grapevine hanging across the pool was an endless source of entertainment, either to hang on it, sit on it, or try to climb it. I recall in earlier summers there was a grapevine hanging closer to the left edge of the pool that you could swing out on and let go, but the swimming hole changed with every winter flood, so that was eventually replaced by the one you see here.
Feature #4: The tunnel under the sliding rock was the scariest adventure I can remember. You could enter the tunnel from behind the rock, in what we called the "warm pool" because it was upriver from the afore-mentioned spring. You could go underwater, enter the tunnel, and after what seemed like forever you would come out on the swimming hole side! I always feared I'd get stuck or lost or something, so this was high adventure for a country girl!
The large rock between the sliding rock and the entry rock was not used very often. Sometimes we would cannon ball or bellyflop off that rock if we were feeling especially brave, but what I mostly remember was the nest of granddaddy longleg spiders that would cluster in the dark triangle between those two rocks. We would sometimes stupidly splash them and they would come running across the water. Yikes!
Feature #5: The beach on the left side of the photo would have been the perfect entry point, as it was usually shallow and sandy, but we were usually entering from the other side of the river. We did spend endless hours building "pools" in the sand to try to trap minnows or other small fish, or running from a distance across that beach with a war cry, splashing our way into the pool until we couldn't run any further. Or if there were little kids someone would stay there with them, building sandcastles or whatever else we could think of to entertain them.
Feature #6: The "dam" at the bottom of the photo is where the water would run once it left the swimming hole. As you might expect, it washed out every winter when it flooded, but we would spend endless hours finding rocks to rebuild it each summer. This usually entailed going underwater, holding your breath as long as it took to "dig up" a rock, and tossing it onto the dam. You could usually tell if there was someone in the swimming hole already as you approached it by the "crack" of rocks hitting each other as we continually rebuilt the dam.
Other entertainment we found at the swimming hole:
Holding a summersault contest, which entailed doing as many summersaults backward or forward as you could, alternating turns until someone couldn't match the prior swimmer's number. This was how we all learned to "blow out" through our nose as you circled forward, otherwise getting water up your nose was VERY PAINFUL!
Holding our breath as long as possible underwater, while the other person counted. We probably did expand our lung capacity playing this game, and I recall being able to hold my breath for a minute or longer this way.
Fish nibbling, which entailed holding as still as possible, letting the blue gills or white fish that frequented the pool come closer, until they nibbled your toes. This actually TICKLED a lot, so provided us many hours of entertainment.
Laying out - since the pool was very cold, we usually needed a break to warm up. Up the hill a bit were two rocks, one wide and flat, the other narrower and steep. The smaller person would take the narrower rock, and we'd lay on the warm rocks on our towels until we got hot enough that we felt like going back in the water. We would frequently have many bouts in and out of the water, which explains why we could easily spend ALL AFTERNOON at the swimming hole.
"Turning the moss green" - which entailed sitting on a spot of moss in your wet swim suit until it turned green, which usually only took a few minutes. It's amazing how that dry, deadlooking moss would spring back to life with just a little water.
You'll notice that the swimming hole is shaded, so that explains why we rarely got sunburned, and didn't usually have problems with algae or moss growing in the water. All the adventures above, along with the peaceful, cool setting, made this one of my favorite places growing up.
I'm sure my siblings and nieces and nephews have their own swimming hole stories to add, but I'll stop here. Below are a few "real photos" of the river and swimming hole. While there were many hours spent in other sections of the river, and one of our favorite activities was "tenny squishing" (walking in the river wearing an old pair of tennis shoes), the most memories were made in the old swimming hole.
Many thanks to my sister Fran for swimming hole photos, and for painting such an accurate representation of the swimming hole. The far right picture above is from the river below the house, approximately 1990 and features (from left to right), my sister Mary, Mom, me in the red shirt, my sister Liz, niece Sarah, and sister Nel.
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