HANOVER — The Connecticut River runs largely undisturbed this time of year. Not many human denizens of its waters remain, let alone swimmers.
But with the mercury hovering around 25 degrees on Wednesday, a dozen people ran — or tiptoed — into the river from Wilson’s Landing between Hanover and Lyme on Route 10.
The docks at the public boat launch are retired for the season and sit in plastic heaps on dry land. But the group, bonded under the unofficial, email-list name “Brave Souls,” aren’t made of plastic. They come from heartier stuff: flesh and blood.
Terry Cioffredi, of White River Junction, started cold water swimming last February with Parm Padgett, of Thetford. Both are physical therapists in the Upper Valley. On the coldest days, they had to break through the ice in Lake Fairlee near Padgett’s house to get their dip in.
The Connecticut wasn’t frozen over on Wednesday, but with water temperatures below 40 degrees, it was hardly balmy. Among the swimmers at its banks that afternoon, the pair handled themselves like old pros, sharing wisdom and fortitude with newbies.
Padgett hauled blocks of ice from the parking lot to the shoreline for once the group gets in the water, “just for fun, so we can push ‘em around,” she said.
(No one, ultimately, took her up on it).
“When you start, it’s so good to do it with a group of people,” Cioffredi said. “You’re doing something sort of scary and crazy. But it’s very centering.”
The group — mostly women — counted down, shedding layers as the clock ticked closer to 4:30 p.m. They moved slowly, and then very quickly, from full-bundled down to the costume of the intrepid: bathing suit, winter hat and neoprene booties.
Most stayed in the water longer than their hesitation in the parking lot might have suggested. For two to three minutes, some stood at mid-waist, others all the way to their neck. They whooped and shrieked and laughed.
Cioffredi coached Jennifer Chickering, of Grantham, into the river. It was the first winter swim for Chickering, who works with Cioffredi and Padgett.
“Hands and feet will be the limiting factors,” Cioffredi told her. She used green wool socks as mittens.
The group’s organizer, Jennifer Kim, said she was interested in the practice but “too chicken” to try it by herself.
A message sent out to the Upper Valley events listserv pulled together the initial group of nine. More showed up for the second plunge.
The participants aren’t alone in their intrigue. Ukrainians slink into the Dnipro River and other frigid bodies of water each January, a tradition loosely tied to the Orthodox Easter. Winter swimmers flock daily to the 18th-century swimming ponds in London’s Hampstead Heath.
Studies have extolled the mental health benefits of cold water swimming, and linked it to lower blood pressure and a heightened immune system. But medical professionals are also quick to emphasize its dangers: cold shock response can cause cardiovascular stress and cognitive fog.
“It was scary, and pretty painful,” said Kendra Lintner, an environmental consultant from Hanover, shivering and wrapped in a towel. “But now it feels really good.”
Asked if she’d do it again, Lintner said — with the loud, exasperated confusion that such a question would elicit, in such a moment, dripping wet with wind whipping off the Connecticut River — “I don’t know!”
Chickering, Cioffredi’s mentee, dunked her entire head in the water.
“My kids told me this morning, ‘If you follow through with this, a genie’s going to come out of the water and grant you three wishes,’ ” Chickering said.
Gunning for six, she ran into the river twice, pulling Cioffredi back in with her.
Frances Mize is a Report for America corps member. She can be reached at fmize@vnews.com or 603-727-3242.
