It began in 1994 when a group of us decided to start bringing in the new year doing what we liked best.  You've heard of the polar bears?  You know, the guys who break in the new year swimming in frigid waters.  Our tradition involves water but it's done at the end of a rope being pulled by a towboat.

     A group of us would slalom, wakeboard, and kneeboard the new year in.  What ever your passion was we always had a great time.  Some winters would be brutally cold and when you went in for your turn it always seemed like the driver couldn't get you up quick enough.  And after your turn you'd be wondering what took the driver so long to pick you up.

     This year, as we've done for the past decade, a couple of us brought in the new year.  One thing I've noticed,  the older I get the fewer the willing participants.  They come up with all kinds of lame excuses.  "I'm going to Florida", "Going to see my parents", or "I'm sick".

      I did manage to find one person this year to take the ritual dip.  My neighbor John Gugino III on his wakeboard and me on my slalom.  Maybe one reason he hasn't gotten to the age of excuses is that he's about 8 years younger than me. Or maybe it's because I caught him off-guard and he couldn't come up with a quick excuse.

     So, off we make the 55 mile trip to Lake Thurmond where my boat is sitting on the lift and ready to go.  We are driving down the road and sipping on some Red Bull's along the way.  When we get there, the outside temp is about 70 degrees and it's sunny.  Lots of fishermen out on the lake but most are sitting quietly, fishing off their boats, and looking up to see who the morons are in the inboard with the bright colored outfits.  One pontoon boat comes by with someone shouting out to us if the water was cold.

     After what seemed like 20 minutes waiting on my partner to suit up, put his kneebraces on, vest and gloves, we finally start to make the first run.  John's up and running with me taking pictures over my shoulder hoping to get him somewhere in the frame.  We make a few passes up and down the creek then he crashes into the water.  After a break, he's back up for his last run.

     Next it's my turn.  I haven't skied since summer and even then I only went a couple of times.  I get in the water, John snaps a photo for memories, then the rope tightens and I'm up.  I'm cutting back and forth and John is trying to snap some photos over his shoulder.  He took several photos but it seems I had already left the area where the camera was pointing by the time he snapped the photo.

     It didn't take but a short while until I was huffing and puffing, too tired to keep it up.  I dropped for a rest before my last run for the day.  After a couple of minutes, the rope tightened and I was up again.  Felt even better the next time with me cutting back and forth carving turns around imaginary ski buoys.

     Another year of bringing in the new year doing what I love best.  And as we idle back across the lake toward the dock I feel the relaxing feeling from a intense workout like nothing else.  Once again bringing in the new year and continuing the tradition that started over 10 years earlier.

By Kerry Lloyd

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