Why Summers Are Best Spent by Lakes, Not Oceans

To some, there's nothing better than diving into a tranquil lake come summer—but not everyone agrees.

Are you an ocean person or a lake person? Do you seek out choppy waves, or still waters? Is it Jaws or Lake Placid that gives you the chills? Whichever floats your boat, so to speak, we're spoiled for choice here in the U.S., with its Great Lakes, swimming holes, and roughly 95,471 miles of shoreline. But that doesn't mean we can't argue over which is better. In this latest debate, Traveler editors make their case for lakes vs. oceans.

Sand & Surf

Growing up, the ocean was one of the only places where unplugging was mandatory. No phones, no laptops, no TV, just paperback books, the sea, the occasional jellyfish sting, and some sun-enhanced highlights. My family still plays by those rules today, whether we’re on the Florida coast or off the grid in the British Virgin Islands. And it works. You don’t need anything but yourself to enjoy the ocean (OK, maybe a little sunscreen). And the toys—paddle boards, snorkels, jet skis—only make it better. The ocean, any ocean, is a people pleaser. Everyone can do their own thing or do the same thing, it makes no difference. You’re just there, in the sea, in the sun, breathing the salty air that somehow tastes the same when you pop your head out of the ocean on every coast. —Meredith Carey

Lakes are eerily still—not counting the world’s largest, of course. Most have muddy bottoms, with vast patches of calf-tickling underwater seagrass. Broken, rotting tree trunks and branches lurk beneath the surface like dead bodies and dismembered limbs. The water can be bath-tub-like warm on the first top few inches, and morgue-like chilly from there on down and into the dark. Plus, snakes like lakes. As do snapping turtles. And monsters. It’s safe to say I have limnophobia—exacerbated by movies such as Lake Placid (a giant crocodile, and Betty White), Piranha (both the 1978 and 2010 versions), Beneath (more toothy fish) and the supremely spooky French thriller Stranger by the Lake (pathological killer). So, give me some warm sand to sink my toes into instead, ocean waves to dodge and surf, infinite horizons, a thousand shades of blue, and the tingle of sea water drying on my back. I’ll take my chances with sharks, jellyfish, and stinky seaweed any day, and will never grow weary or wary of re-watching Jaws, Open Water or The Shallows. —David Jefferys

Lakes All the Way

Though I grew up on a tropical island overseas, surrounded by ocean on all sides, my strongest love is lakes—part of that, maybe, is that I have roots in Minnesota, where there are more than 10,000 of them. Growing up, I'd return to the U.S. for vacation, and spend the summer waterskiing, kayaking, fishing, paddling, pontooning, and floating on lakes of all shapes and sizes, from extra large (Lake Minnetonka) to not so extra large (Moose Lake). To this day, my favorite way to jump into summer is to do it literally—by running off the end of my parents' dock and diving into the cool lake. —Katherine LaGrave

The joy that comes with swimming in a crisp, placid lake has been a recent revelation for me. Back in England, I mostly associated lake swimming (or really, any outdoor swimming) with frigid temperatures and miserable school trips as opposed to a welcome injection of summer fun. But a day spent at a small lake club in Connecticut last August, with its Gatsby-esque dock and creaky wooden boathouse, changed my mind completely. The water was perfectly cool; the water so still that tactically swimming to a floating raft armed with a flask filled with mimosa and a good book felt like an unofficial requirement. Sure, you probably don’t want to dwell too long on what lurks beneath (my personal paranoia: eels), but there is a meditative quality found at a lake—whether it be glittering Como or tranquil Tahoe—that I haven’t quite managed to find anywhere else. Plus, come winter, lakes offer something magical that the ocean simply can’t: They freeze. —Lale Arikoglu

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