Huge crowd swims, shivers
<p>Elliana Roullier, 5, has second thoughts Sunday about following her sisters into the frigid water of Lake Coeur d'Alene at Sanders Beach during the 32nd annual Polar Bear Plunge. Roullier had planned on taking the plunge with her sisters, but made it about knee deep before seeking warmer conditions.</p>
<p>Cassie Loeffler, left, clings to her cousin Brooke Clark after she stripped to her underwear to make a commiserating plunge after Clark fell off her paddle board and into the water while serving as a lifeguard for the Polar Bear Plunge. "I wasn't planning on going," Loeffler said. "But I felt bad that she fell in so I figured I couldn't let her be cold by herself."</p>
COEUR d'ALENE - Paul Torgy got baptized Sunday in Lake Coeur d'Alene.
It wasn't his first, though.
The Coeur d'Alene man has undergone many baptisms, always on New Year's Day, when he dives into Lake Coeur d'Alene. The Polar Bear Plunge veteran considers it an annual ceremony of sorts, washing away of the old, starting anew, looking forward to the future.
"The hardest part is getting your socks off," he said with a grin as he sat on a towel, trying to warm up after taking a quick dip in 35-degree water.
He was joined by an estimated 1,000 others who lined up for about 300 yards along Sanders Beach. Some arrived wearing masks, giant cowboy hats, bath robes and slippers and towels.
With temperatures in the low 30s, clouds, no wind and no snow, conditions were ideal to join the plunge into Lake Coeur d'Alene that's been a North Idaho tradition since 1978.
David Hepburn waited to go with empty beer cans attached to his hat and strapped to his chest, too. Each can was covered with duct tape, because the year he didn't cover the can openings, they filled with water.
It made the frantic fight to get back to land that much tougher.
"I came out carrying extra weight," he said, chuckling.
Sunday, as the clothes came off, plenty of pale bodies were revealed, covered only by shorts, bikinis and one-piece swimsuits.
Smiles, banter and laughter were abundant - until the clock struck noon.
Then, men, women and children, too, charged.
They dived under, popped up, screamed and ran out. While the roar was loud and short, the shivering persisted.
Some called it the shortest event around that attracts the largest crowd. A few who went for a brief swim called it foolish, but fun.
"The Polar Bear Plunge is the stupidest thing we do every year," said Rachel Wessel, 21, University of Idaho student and Coeur d'Alene resident.
But she returned with friends for the sixth time on Sunday, making a nice dive, because "otherwise we'll probably do stupider things, honesty.
"So if we start the year out with this, it won't be all downhill from there," Wessel added.