PITTSBURGH (TNS) — Light snow fell as hundreds waited in bathing suits to dunk into the frigid Monongahela River on Wednesday. Luckily, the snow wasn’t sticking.
The outside temperature was 33 degrees, with a real feel of 20 degrees because of a bracing wind along the Mon Wharf. And while dozens participating in the Pittsburgh Polar Bear Club’s annual plunge screamed and shivered their way out of the water, shouts of, “It feels wonderful,” and, “I feel warm now,” were common throughout the morning.
“It’s warmer in here than it is outside!” shouted one plunger, who was more of a soaker, staying in for several minutes. Indeed, the water temperature was 41 degrees.
It wasn’t the coldest plunge for John Gielas, 59, who has been participating in the event for 20 years. He recalled one year when the river was frozen over over and organizers had to cut a hole in the ice for dunkers to go in one or two at a time.
Gielas called the plunges “like a reset” for the New Year. No stranger to water, he was a lifeguard at the Highland Park pool and a whitewater rafting tour guide.
He even persuaded nieces and friends to join. Johnny Cavaliere, 43, of Shaler, has jumped six times and called the plunges his placebo.
“It washes away the old year,” he said. “I can temper myself in this raw sewer water.”
The river did look brown and murky, but that didn’t stop Tootsie Maksin, a 75-year-old Glenshaw resident and repeat plunger. She showed up wearing a pink shirt that said, “Shut Up Liver, You’re Fine.” Maksin said she’s had cancer five times and is now fighting liver cancer. After plunging, she said she felt great: “I just told that cancer to get out!”
The annual Polar Bear Club Plunge raises money for WTAE’s Project Bundle-Up, which provides warm clothes to kids in need. The Salvation Army also helps coordinate the event.
Aside from patching a few bloody knees, emergency medical technicians and the Coast Guard River Rescue Team idled, and the energy was high. Jay Martz, 41, of Braddock Hills, glued a banana to his head. Why? “I’m just a weirdo,” he quipped.
He and his fiancée passed out nonalcoholic champagne and were plunging for their second year in a row.
Eric Contakos, a North Side resident, wore a polar bear mask and a furry getup he sewed himself from a wrestling singlet. Although a runner, the sport has “not at all” prepared him for plunges: “It’s instant regret,” he said.
“I literally cannot feel my fingers right now,” said Scott Walton of Blairsville, while wearing a soaking wet Superman costume post-plunge.
Cavaliere said his limbs were tingling after his plunge, but he was in high spirits: “This washed away a lot.”
