Daria Checks out the Shenandoah Swimming Hole

When the world feels harsh, and tiring, there is no better medicine than getting out into the woods with the dogs. Preferably to a place where we won't see a whole lot of other people and can forget that the outside world exists.

One of our favorite places to do that is the swimming holes along the Tuscarora/ Overall Run trail in the Shenandoahs.











The trail climbs just 20 minutes or so up to a side trail that leads to the edge of the stream, which cascades down over rocks into a series of perfectly swimming pool-sized depressions.

It was a short hike but a steamy one, and even at 10 in the morning the heat and humidity were truly astounding. 

Fozzie knew just how to fix that. A recreational swimmer if I ever saw one, Fozzie wastes no opportunity to go in for a dip. 

Daria was less certain about the whole thing, 



though the rocks were slippery so there were a few times when she ended in the water without trying to. 













Whew, nothing better than a refreshing swim in a cold mountain stream when the air is thick and stagnant.

Even better when you are in solitude with your man and your dogs, miles away from any human noises or disturbance,

and when the water has the most blissfully fresh smell, like mountains and flowers and moss, that you inhale as your nose skims its surface during your swim.

Only thing that marred the tranquility was that Fozzie and Daria, since they are dogs, could not resist walking along every narrow ledge and slippery surface they could get their paws on. 

Perhaps they feel that worrying makes our lives richer. 

Fozzie did a fair amount of worrying of his own; whenever anyone went in the water he took it upon himself to accompany that person to make sure nothing bad happened. 

And then he just stood there in the water, shivering, until one of us escorted him onto dry land. But poor Fozzie continued to be nervous even out of the water, who knows why? 

Perhaps it was the biting flies that came out, nipping his hips and back paws even more relentlessly than Daria had been before we gave her a leashed time out. Or maybe he felt the beginnings of the thunderstorm that came later that evening. 

Fozzie, you are such a good sport. Protecting everyone from water monsters and hypothermia, patiently indulging a pesky little foster dog, then hiding from the elements in the only makeshift shelter you could find. Rest well buddy, you've earned it!