I promised my daughter we�d go to Gurney Lane, Queensbury�s town pool, this week and take advantage of it being free.

Soon after we arrived around 2:30 on Monday afternoon, which was also opening day, the whistle blew. I thought I heard a lifeguard say something about "adult swim." I figured he was joking, or I�d misheard. Surely it would take more than a toot and a single command to get the army of children to give up possession of their turf. But a 17-year-old lifeguard with a megaphone has more authority than a whole platoon of parents. The pool was soon totally emptied of all screaming, splashing, soggy kids.

What fun, I thought, as I approached the suddenly placid pool and jumped in.

Many mothers, especially the ones whose red faces and shoulders revealed they�d been there all day, took this opportunity to gather their broods and head home.

Some mothers, especially the ones with small children who couldn�t be left poolside unattended, pulled out juice boxes and snacks and tried to keep the troops happy until they could scramble back in the water.

One small group of women who were already hovering at the water�s edge when the whistle blew just stayed where they were and kept on talking. A dozen or so mothers waded in the kiddie pool and dunked themselves tentatively to cool down.

I�m not much of a swimmer�what I lack in arm strength and proper breathing control I seem to make up in buoyancy�but it seemed silly to sit this one out. I was one of only a handful of people to take advantage of this situation and do some real swimming.

I could get used to this, I thought, as I slowly glided down the length of the pool, unimpeded by frenetic, gyrating little bodies. A beautiful, sunny June day and a pool almost to myself. I idly wondered if they did this the same time each day so I could plan to be there for it.

I�d like to say I did a dozen brisk laps but I�m hardly up to that. Six leisurely lengths would have to do. I got out before the 20 minutes were up and returned to my daughter and our spot on the hill. I sort of felt sorry for the displaced children ringing the edge of concrete and grass, counting down the minutes until their exile was over.

When I was a kid I spent a great deal of time in the water. I grew up in an apartment complex that had a pool where I spent my childhood frolicking like a fish and diving like a dolphin. A never-ending array of children came and went each day, depending largely on how successful they were in wearing down their mothers. I forget now how old you had to be to go in alone, but I think it was at least 13. Until then, you either had to wait for mom or hope a friend�s parent would take pity on your hot, sweaty little face waiting patiently at the gate.

Since we had a pool almost in our backyard, my mother never took me to Gurney Lane. I can remember going a few times, tagging along with a friend�s family. The pool then was a giant concrete saucer of water that was shallow at the edges and gradually got deeper in the middle. A chlorinated watering hole, basically.

I can�t believe I�ve been back to Queensbury for nearly nine years and this was my first trip up there. It certainly won�t be our last.

On the ride home I thought about why so few adults were swimming during the adult swim. Only a fraction of the adults present had taken advantage of the open water. Actually, I almost think there were more adults in the water before the adult swim was declared.

For one thing, "swimming" as an adult is somehow different from swimming when we were kids. As a child, swimming was defined as anything we did in the water�from handstands in the shallow end to retrieving rocks from the bottom of the deep end. As an adult, swimming means exercise, a word which either beckons or repels. Unless you are in a special water workout class or are playing with kids, adults don�t do much frolicking and splashing in the water in public.

Also, I guess self-consciousness and vanity take their toll, especially since this is the beginning of the summer and you�ve either got flab-free thighs or you don�t. Entering the water amid a hundred colorful, animated children is one thing; entering the water alone, you lose that camouflage.

Even though we�ll have to pay to get into the pool the rest of the season, it looks like it�s going to be a Gurney Lane summer. Whatever watering hole you frequent this year, I hope you keep cool and have fun. Summer�s too short to sweat it out on the sidelines.