The blue underworld

August 12, 2026

My tiniest swimming companion, “Little Pete,” feeding in the rapids yesterday afternoon

Visits to the Spokane River’s smokeless waters

Because my swimming spot in west Spokane is in an area that the hydrogeologists call a “gaining reach”—meaning a segment of the river where it receives water from the Spokane-Rathdrum Prairie Aquifer—it can be really cold in there, even if the air temperature is 90 degrees or higher. So it was Tuesday afternoon. So cold it gave me a brief headache as I headed out into a deep pool of water with snorkel, mask, fins, camera, swimsuit and a blue, UV protective swim shirt.

In a minute, or two, or three, the body adjusts to the sting of the chill. For the next forty minutes I’m a seemingly weightless submersible vessel in a pink swim cap—the better so that kayakers, rafters and tubers drifting downstream can see me, even if I don’t see them. I dove in as the ominous wildfire smoke that has broken hearts and blurred the August sky was clearing a bit. As I biked home with my gear on my back I could see for several miles from the crest of the hill above. Beneath the surface of the river, the colder the water, the clearer it gets and the effect is somewhat surreal. In a good way.

“Who knows where we’ve been” (2022)

“At the bottleneck” (2026)

“Liberation” 2020

“Orange 51” (2021)

“The Outlier” (2021)

To view the entirety of this post, please become a paid subscriber to The Daily Rhubarb at the link above…tx, tjc

“The brilliant resilience” (2022)

“The blue underworld” (2023)

—tjc