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words by Jeff,
photos by Dakota
get the fully awesome experiential photoset here

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We here at Brightest Young Things are big fans of Flying Dog Brewery.  It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that we consider Flying Dog to be the official hometown brew of DC.  So when JT (Flying Dog Beerman Extraordinaire) called us up and asked us to help him raise some dough for the Special Olympics of Maryland, who were we to say no?  And what better way to raise some money for charity than by jumping into the icy waters of the Chesapeake Bay?  And when I say icy, I mean it.  Water temperatures range in the low 30’s this time of year.  Julia, Lauren, Marcelle, JT and I started soliciting donations and were able to raise $500 in less than 24 hours for the cause.  All told, the folks at Maryland Plungapalooza ‘09 (www.plungemd.com) were able to raise 2.5 million dollars for the Maryland Special Olympics.

We met JT up at the Flying Dog Brewery in Frederick, Maryland on Friday night and everyone loaded into the Flying Dog Winnebago equipped with the largest cooler of beer that I’ve ever seen.  All the better to road trip with.  By the time we got to Annapolis, our bellies were warm with Hefeweizen and we were ready to get a taste of the Annapolis nightlife.  Which can safely be summed up in two words:  Navy. Dudes.

We piled out of the Winnebago to find that Annapolis’ inner harbor was sufficiently covered in ice.  Not a good sign.

I won’t go into too much detail about our night out in Annapolis.  If you’re into Navy dudes, you’ll love it.  If not, you’ll hate it.  I’ve never seen Dakota so miserable as when he had to brave his way through the sea of sailors trying to get a beer.  Not an indie rocker in sight.  No Hot Chip on the dance floor.  And absolutely not one can of Sparks.  Poor kid.  There was a line to play Big Buck Hunter, too.  For shame.

The night ended as I’m sure it does at every bar in Annapolis on every night.  With a fight.  Between Navy dudes.  Epic fail.

The plus side of the night was that Jim Lutz, Director of Sales for Flying Dog was out of town and generously donated his house for us to stay at for the evening.  I hadn’t slept in a bunk bed since I was eight, and I’m quite surprised it didn’t collapse under my weight.

We woke up surprisingly refreshed only to find that JT had decided he didn’t want to plunge.  One down.  Four left.  He did, however, fire up the Winnie to drop us off at the shuttle pickup point.

We loaded our bags with Flying Dog Ale and were on our way.  I must be honest, I had no idea what to expect, but as soon as we got off the bus, I realized that this event was a lot bigger than I had imagined.  Rough estimates put the number of plungers at 11,000.  And a whole lot more came to revel in the festivities.  This is where the fun began.

At about ten til one we found a spot on the beach and stripped down to our bathing suits.  Dakota followed us with video camera in tow, but he accidentally erased the video, which I’m quite thankful for, since no one wants to see me in a Speedo.  I can’t begin to tell you how cold 33 degree water is.  It sucks.  It feels like getting hit by a bolt of lightning.  Only slightly more miserable.  The only thing worse than jumping into 33 degree water is getting out of 33 degree water and trying to put your clothes on in freezing sand while a chilly wind blows around you.

After we froze our collective asses off for 10 minutes we realized there was a warming tent for changing.  NSFW.  More man-ass than anyone needs to see.  It was like a Russian sauna.  Ass everywhere you looked.

After warming our own asses in the warming tent (literally), we enjoyed some more festivities and a free lunch and then went back down to the beach to watch the second wave of plungers hit the bay.  It was a bit more fun to actually watch people take the plunge than actually plunge ourselves.

After seeing about as many half-naked Marylanders as is humanly possible, we boarded the waiting Winnebago and headed back to Frederick to pick up our car and have dinner at Frisco’s.

Side note:  I’ve never seen a human being consume as much food as Dakota Fine consumed in the 24 hours that we were on this trip.

Tally of Dakota’s Food Intake in a 24-hour period:
Chipotle burrito, tortilla chips and large soda
Gigantic ice cream sundae
Beer
Half of Lauren’s Chipotle burrito
Lots of beer
Slice of pizza
More beer
Polish sausage
More beer
Bowl of chili
More beer
Pulled-pork sandwich and bag of potato chips
Even more beer
Hot wings
Steak sandwich and Fuze Banana Colada

Now here’s a really crappy video for you to watch (that wouldn’t have been so crappy had Dakota not deleted the part where Jeff, Lauren, Julia and Marcelle all actually ran into the icy water… no, then it would’ve been kinda awesome, but rest assured it’s not, it’s really kinda lame). -Dakota

BYT: Polar Bear Plunge (Annapolis, MD) 2009 from Dakota Fine on Vimeo.

But! here’s a really kinda awesome picture for you to look at more closely, because it’s kinda hilarious, for not so obvious reasons, unless you look really closely. Then it’s hilarious. I win, you win, we all win, hooray! -Dakota

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