The rules of school

Reading my blog you may wonder whether I even go to school, and if so how I pass a single class. Let me clarify a few things. I do indeed go to school and am studying engineering. I don’t say that to make the point that I am some math and science super star who can get their homework done in an hour and then play. It is quite the opposite; I am no math genius. Although, most days I can remember how to integrate without a refresher. I have a philosophy for engineering classes that keeps me sane, allows me to get outdoors and keep learning. Here is the outline:

I shoot for a B in my technical classes. The reason for this is simple; if I reach for an A and master the abstract technique to a master’s level, I would not have any time to get outside for mountain biking or skiing.  Another method that I stick to is working problem sets with a group, since I always able to plow through problem sets faster with people to bounce questions off of.

The third point is a very important one for keeping the school environment friendly. It is the concept of winning. Every lab, quiz and exam has an imaginary podium at the end and the sooner that you get out of there, the higher you place and the sooner you can get back to outside activities. The goal is to podium. That way when people ask you how the test went, you can tell them I won!

Pond Hockey

Pond hockey at the Collier's  has been one of my favorite parts of this winter. On any given day of the week, if there is a group of six people wanting to skate, despite their level of skill, there is a game. Other than the community participating in Collier hockey, the really special part of the game is the distinct version of pond rules. Some are generic like keeping the puck on the ice, no checking (unless you are married to your opponent) and no bringing your stick up, but the unique ones keep the game fun and engaging for skaters of all levels. You can only take the puck from someone as good or better than you; you can pressure any player to drop the puck, and you are encouraged to pass. These rules make it really fun for a hockey nube like me, and makes it easy to stay on the steep part of the learning curve. The goal of the game isn’t to score or win as we don’t even count goals, but to make some beautiful plays. This season has been a blast, and I even got to drive the Zamboni! 

Cardigan

Here’s the dilemma. When you pack crampons you don't expect to ski. So when you go skiing you don’t bring your crampons. So what do you do when the snow surface changes from breakable crust to a layer of mirror reflecting ice within sight of the summit? If you are Rob and I, we skinned while reciting the mantra of ‘just don’t fall’. When this started to seem utterly suicidal, we shouldered our skis and started kicking steps into the ice. It was a beautiful ski despite the horrible conditions. The winds were calm, the view was as good as it gets in New England, and it was T-shirt weather. Now if only my adrenaline wasn’t pumping from the fear of sliding all the way back to Hanover on my butt after missing a kickstep, I wouldn’t complain!

Grant Weekend

Every winter the DOC organizes a weekend when students go up to the college’s second grant to ski, dogsled, and share stories far in the wilderness, almost 30 miles from the nearest town. When we arrived, the stars were amazing and the Milky Way was bright. We went for a night ski, and we didn’t even need headlamps that first night. The next morning I set out on a backcountry ski while others dogsledded. The views were beautiful, but the snow was downright scary. There had been a sprinkling of rain and it had turned into a really fragile breakable crust. The good news was that it was sunny and warm and despite the gnarly conditions the tour was fun.

Later that evening we sat with Dartmouth alums and shared storied of the Dartmouth Outing Club and The Grant. A friend told a great and enthralling story about the loggers of the far north. After that I performed  fire spinning under the starry northern skies. Not bad for a school weekend.

Quarry Hill

With more snow in Hanover than I have seen in three years, I couldn’t resist skiing places that never have enough coverage. The first spot to tackle was the thick trees of a bike trail on Oak Hill that is a killer uphill in the summer. Getting to ski it was more challenging than I thought it would be as I ducked branches, thickets and threw in really quick hop turns. But it was the first of the series of quirky ski runs that I tackled throughout the week. Among them was the ‘Commando Route’ path from my house to school through a ravine, the meadow in front of the medical school (mostly for the poor chaps looking out the window), the trail to the Connecticut River from school (another thicket adventure), and a night meadow poach in a Vermont family’s backyard. Finally with an impending rain storm coming, I convinced Hannah and Chris to come do some survival skiing on a mountain called Quarry Hill. Through the center of the mountain there is the old, steep quarry road, framed by a lot of granite. We skied down the skinny trail jumping over jutting granite blocks and small pines. Not Steamboat pow, but an adventure nonetheless!