Wild swimming at Bear Creek Lake State Park

This one was also just about an hour’s drive from Charlottesville. It felt more like it was in the middle of nowhere though. Some of the roads I took to get there weren’t even paved.

It was quieter than Lake Anna State park, which I really liked.

I ran the Channel Cat Loop Trail, then took the Lakeside Trail over to the Lost Bar Loop Trail and then back again for a little over 6 miles.

The trails were well marked and great for running. I passed a few hikers and a runner on the Lakeside Trail but had the two loop trails all to myself.




While I was running by the lake, saw a kayaker in the water and realized there were two people swimming along behind it. That made me feel happy and also a little less crazy for wanting to swim on a not exactly hot day in April.

The sun was occasionally peaking out from behind the clouds and the air temperature was 68. I had some salt stinging my eyes by the time I finished my run, but was far from overheated.

The water felt chilly when I got in, but not bad at all, even with a good wind blowing across the lake. The wind made the water a little choppy, which was kind of fun to swim through. I stayed in a lot longer than I did at Lake Anna, breast-stroking back and forth between the buoys.

The coolness of the air and water and the lack of other swimmers made this swim feel a little more “wild.” I do realize that swimming within buoys at State Park beaches is probably the most tame form of wild swimming there is, but wild swimming just sounds cool, so I’m going with it.

It was so quiet I got to enjoy the soft rippling sound of the waves I make when I’m swimming. I love that sound. I also love the smell of lake water (and ocean and river water.)

In addition to all the trails I explored, the park also provides access to the Cumberland Multi-Use Trail (14 miles) and the Willis River Trail (16 miles) so there are plenty of options for longer runs.

I would definitely go back.

Two down, four to go.

Wild swimming at Lake Anna State Park

The drive time from Charlottesville was just about an hour. I was a little surprised that there wasn’t anyone at the entrance booth, but it was a Tuesday afternoon in early April, so I guess it makes sense. I stopped and put my money in one of the provided envelopes and tore off the parking tag for my rear view mirror. The weekday fee is $7. I had a ten dollar bill and four ones. I just stuck the ten dollar bill in there and figured I was fine giving the state park an extra $3. The park office was open so I could have stopped and got change if I really wanted to.

I parked at the beach parking area. There were about a dozen other cars there, but it was a big lot so it still looked pretty empty. I was really disappointed to see that the beach was actually closed, though. The website had said it was open, but it was roped off and a bulldozer was spreading out piles of fresh sand.

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There were people wading and splashing about in the water on either side of the roped-off section, but the website said swimming was only allowed at the main beach. I decided to go for my run and hope that they finished with the bulldozing by the time I was done, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen.

I started out on the Fisherman’s trail, which is a short trail along the water that connects the swimming area to a fishing and picnic area. From there, I got on the Ware Creek Trail, which was by far my favorite trail of the day. There’s a nice section down by the water and then a more wooded section. It felt secluded and peaceful and I didn’t pass a single person. There are several exercise stations along the path.


I headed back by the beach to the Railroad Ford trail and took mental notes of places I could possibly swim along the way. I passed a few groups and couples, but it was still far from crowded. I was getting hot and thirsty and starting to wonder if I’d made the hour drive and paid $10 just to run on some trails. The Railroad Ford trail connects to the Glenora trail and I had planned to take it, but there was a sign that said “Registered campers only beyond this point.” I didn’t really think that meant only campers could use the trail, but I was also really thirsty (it was almost 80 degrees and there weren’t any leaves on the trees yet, which meant I had been running for 40 minutes with the sun beating down on me) so I decided to head back to the water fountain I’d seen at the beach.IMG_20210406_142625231_HDR

I was happy to find the water fountain in working order and took a nice long, refreshing drink. Instead of heading out on the questionable Glenora trail, I decided to just do another loop of the Railroad trail, knowing that there were a few places along the way I could swim if I decided to. The park website had said that swimming was prohibited anywhere other than at the official beach, though. And I do generally try to follow the rules. So I ended up just running around the loop and back to the beach. 

I saw a couple of rangers talking to some of the people who had been swimming in the area right next to the beach and went over to see what they had to say. I figured they were telling them they weren’t allowed to swim there, but that wasn’t the case. The beach was indeed closed, but when I asked if they were telling people they weren’t allowed to swim outside of it, they said no, that it was a public lake and people could swim wherever they wanted to. I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear that.

I found a fairly secluded spot along the Fisherman’s trail and had myself a nice little swim. The water was clear near the shore, but quickly turned murky. I didn’t wade too far out before I dove in. The water was cold, but not bad at all. The swimming holes here in the mountains are colder in the middle of summer than this water felt the first week in April. Since I was alone, I didn’t swim very far out, but I did swim around a little bit. 


I didn’t do quite as much swimming as I would have if the big sandy beach with the buoys around it had been open, but my private little swim was really nice, too.

There is no way I would go to Lake Anna State Park on a busy weekend in the summer, but I would love to go back on a weekday before the beach officially opens and explore the rest of the trails and spend a little more time swimming.

One park down. Five to go.

Wild Swimming State Park Challenge

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I just finished reading Waterlog by Roger Deakin. The book is his account of “swimming through the British Isles.” I thoroughly enjoyed it, and it has inspired me to do a swimming challenge of my own. My plan is to visit every Virginia State Park with a natural body of water for some wild swimming. I’ll probably do some running, too. My goal is to hit the six parks that are within a two hour’s drive before the end of the year:

  • Bear Creek Lake State Park (Cumberland, Va)
  • Holliday Lake State Park (Appomattix, Va)
  • Pocahontas State Park (Chesterfield, Va)
  • Twin Lakes State Park (Green Bay, Va)
  • Lake Anna State Park (Spotsylvania Courthouse, Va)
  • Douthat State Park (Millboro, Va)

Wild swimming isn’t new to me. I grew up swimming in ponds, lakes, rivers, bays and the ocean. After cross country meets in high school, if there was a body of water anywhere nearby, I always jumped in. Occasionally some off my teammates would join me. Ever since, swimming after a run has been one of my favorite things in the world.

I can’t wait to get started!

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Snake hole after a long run.
My cousin Jess and I after the Zooma Cape Cod half marathon.


From Waterlog:

This was a more leisurely swim; the black water, exposed to the sun, was less cold than the river. My breaststroking sent a bow-wave wobbling the reeds along the banks, and the eels shifting in the mud. From the water, I could see Burrow Hill rising steeply to a single tree at its summit. A tiny figure was sitting on a swing under one of its branches, silhoutted against the blue.
In the afterburn of the swim, I raced to the top of the dramatic hill, where the man on the swing, who owned a pair of white goats grazing nearby, politely offered me a turn. The view from the swing is one of the finest in England, across the Levels for miles in every direction until the fields and rivers disappear in mist. Being airborne, and already high from a cold dip, it was like floating above the world as you sometimes do in dreams.


That is a man after my own heart. 


Winter drags on

Before I turned forty I actually liked winter.

A couple of years ago I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. Since I’ve gotten that under control, I no longer have the constant horrible feeling of my insides being frozen, but I still hate the cold. I mean I really hate it. Almost as much as I hate goat cheese.

I’ve started over-dressing for runs on purpose. I’d rather roast for the majority of the run than freeze for even a little bit.

I also don’t like the snowy, icy, muddy, frozen slop that makes winter running treacherous.

Definitely needed the Yak Trax today.


I’m dreaming of sweaty summer runs and swimming holes.

Sunrise run

I asked Brian if he’d mind if we left the house a little early again so we could see the sunrise on our run. The Blue Ridge Parkway was closed to traffic and I’d gone for a walk up there earlier in the week and had been thinking ever since how nice the view of the sunrise would be.

It was a much easier sell than I thought it would be. There was hardly any protest or grumbling at all, which I’m still a little suspicious about.

The weather forecast almost convinced us not to go. There was an ice storm warning that night, but the temperature was supposed to climb steadily after midnight and be close to 50 degrees by 7 am. I hoped that was enough time to melt the ice.

It was foggy and 34 degrees when we left Charlottesville.

By the time we parked at Rockfish Gap, it was mostly clear and 47.

The moon was bright and the horizon was already pink and orange. It was light enough that we didn’t need our headlamps. The wind made it a little chilly, but not bad at all.

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There was a group of about five people with cameras set up at the first overlook. We didn’t see anyone else until we got back to the car at the end of our run. It was so quiet and peaceful. The only sounds were the wind in the trees and birdsong.

And Brian complaining about the climb and telling me that his legs hurt from his 14 mile run yesterday. My hamstring and butt weren’t feeling great, either. I’m pretty sure I strained my hamstring again and I hadn’t run at all for a week.



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I thought we were doing 5 miles, because Brian had told me the day before that he needed five more miles for the week. He thought we were just running up to the second overlook to watch the sunrise, then going back to the car.

We compromised and did three miles. Well, a little more than that because I didn’t tell him when my Garmin hit 1.5 miles. He called me a fart potato.

We saw a pile of bear poop that looked like a small volcano.


All in all, it was a really nice morning.



I love it when the Blue Ridge Parkway and Skyline drive are closed to traffic. I went back in the afternoon hoping to do a bike ride without having to worry about cars, but they had already opened the gate back up. I was disappointed, but went for a walk in the woods instead.


2020 was a little different.


I only ran three races:
WazUPwidis 5k (February 1, 2020)
Hashawha Hills 50k (February 29, 2020)
Yeti 100 Miler (September 25, 2020)

Photo credit: Samantha Smith Taylor

Despite running my first 100 miler, my mileage this year (1374.5) was not very high. 

Brian and I did explore a couple of new trails in 2020, though. And the very cool Blue Ridge Tunnel Trail finally opened. 


Everything Else

Running wasn’t the only thing that was different this year. 

We didn’t travel at all.

I was unemployed for several months and had time to do some things that I’ve been meaning to do forever:

I finally got around to learning how to knit on circular needles. 

And read some classics that I’ve never read. I Googled “classic literature that isn’t boring” or something like that for recommendations. There were plenty of articles to choose from. I’m obviously not the only one who wants to be well-read, but not bored. 

I give thumbs up to:

“Rebecca” by Daphne Du Maurier
“Jane Eyre” by Charlotte Bronte
“Picnic at Hanging Rock” by Joan Lindsay
“Peyton Place” by Grace Metalious

And thumbs down to:

“Go Tell it on the Mountain” by James Baldwin (I didn’t hate this book. The story was interesting, the style of writing just made it a really difficult read for me.)
“Love in the time of Cholera” by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (this has replaced Moby Dick as my least favorite of the classics I’ve read).

I’m planning to read more classics in 2021. Do you have any recommendations? 


2020 had it’s moments, but I’m not too sad about saying goodbye.

Bring on the New Year! 


Morning Christmas lights run

We had to leave the house about 20 minutes earlier than usual in order to see the lights before the sun came up. Brian wasn’t happy about that.

It was totally worth it though, and the run would have started even earlier and been much longer if it had been entirely up to me.

I set the Knoxgear vest my sister gave me to flash red and green and we were on our way.

First up was our next door neighbor’s house.

It was looking bright and cheery a couple of streets down. It may be the first Christmas unicorn I’ve seen. I’m a fan.

We headed through Belmont to the Downtown Mall.

And took a spin through the IX park on our way home.

We refueled afterward with some really cute and delicious cookies our neighbor baked for us.

Running, Christmas lights and homemade cookies that taste like childhood.

A pretty fantastic morning in my book.

Brian may not agree, but he is wrong.

Seen on the run (November 22, 2020)

Blue Ridge Tunnel Trail

It’s finally open!

We parked on the Afton (east) side and ran to the Waynesboro (west) side and back for a total of 4.5 miles (my longest run since the Yeti 100 back in September!)

Running through the tunnel was fun. It felt like we were in a cave. I loved hearing the water dripping from the stone all around us. Be forewarned: the light at the other side looks much closer than it actually is! Definitely bring a headlamp or flashlight.

The trail on the Afton side is pretty flat, but the Waynesboro side is quite hilly.

I ended up with a stress reaction in my foot after Yeti. I’m slowly building my mileage back up, so 4.5 was a perfect distance for today, but this trail can easily connect to Dick Woods road for many more miles.

Happy trails.

Yeti 100 takeaways and musings (warning feet pics)


  1. I shouldn’t change my shoes during an ultra unless the ones I have on are causing an immediate problem.  I’ve only gotten blisters during a race twice: the only two times I’ve changed my shoes and socks mid-race. The conditions were so wet at the Yeti 100 that the blisters may have been inevitable, but I didn’t feel them until after I changed my shoes and the pain showed up very quickly after I did. My feet were definitely my weakest link. A week later, my blisters have just settled down enough to walk. My right foot was pretty swollen after the race and still hurts, so I’m worried I have a more serious injury. One of my blisters became infected. I made a trip to the doctor Tuesday morning and am now taking antibiotics.1601132875987160113287586916011328759571601132875919
  2. I really need to do a little more planning and think things through ahead of time. Brian and I should have figured out when we would need to pick up our headlamps. There was no excuse for us getting caught in the dark like that.
  3. We need to do a better job of organizing our gear for our crew.
  4. I personally am not ready to return to normal activities. It was SO nice to have things feel relatively normal for a couple of days, but my Covid anxiety is definitely up now. I’m paranoid that one of us is going to get sick. I’m not ready to be around that many people.
  5. Having crew and pacers makes a huge difference! Coke and Advil late in the race do, too.


  1. I wasn’t the only one who had to pee a ridiculous amount of times during the race. The next day, somebody posted this on Facebook:Screenshot_20200926-173932 (1)

A bunch of people responded that it had happened to them too.

2. I wasn’t sure if I’d want to do another 100, but I do! They’re hard on the body, though. I don’t like having to take so much time off to recover. I was planning to take a week off regardless and I knew I would have to take it easy for a while. But it’s looking like my body is going to need longer than I anticipated. I’d be happy if I could just walk at this point. My muscles were only tight and sore for a couple of days, it’s my feet that are giving me so much trouble.

3. Why do I run ultras and backpack long distances? What do I get out of it?

I spend a lot of time in my head, the daily grind can get monotonous and I don’t feel particularly good at life.

I like that races get me out of my head. They force me into the present moment. I have to focus on what my body is physically doing and what it needs. I love the simplicity of that. It’s one of the things I love about backpacking too.

Sometimes I just need to work towards a goal to feel a sense of accomplishment; to prove to myself that there are things that I’m actually capable of doing. I feel like I come up short in so many ways. I possess no useful talents, I suck at making money and I’m awkward with people. I’m not fast, but I can cover great distances on foot.

I do these things because they make me feel miserable and euphoric and alive.

When I’m running or hiking in the woods, I feel like I’m where I belong. I feel most like myself, and sometimes I just need to get out there and do something to remind myself of that.


The world would be a better place if we all did more of the things that make us come alive.

Photo credit: Samantha Smith Taylor