Super special post for you all on this fine Wednesday! In honor of the fact that there are exactly 20 DAYS until trippees arrive on campus, we are doing a little time travel on the blog today. Check out these stories, as well as a picture, from Trips over thirty years ago, in 1981!
“The Freshman Trip was a microcosm of Dartmouth… it was a wonderful way to be thrown together and figure out what you have in common and how great the other members of your class are. And make lifelong friends by the way, too! I recall being physically challenged, but mentally and emotionally exuberant – and not irrationally so.” –Tom Johnston ’85
One thing that I find interesting is that I myself have basically zero recollection of our hiking/camping portion – I don’t remember the canoeing, I don’t remember the two-tone pigs from John’s pictures, I don’t remember us getting lost, or running across other hiking groups. My memories are all of the Moosilauke Lodge portion at the end of the trip. I remember having our first meal there (lunch?) on the big sloping lawn outside the lodge. For some reason, I think I remember sandwiches and little half-pint cartons of chocolate milk! Then I remember being inside the lodge, and having upperclassmen fling spaghetti and garlic bread at us, nearly food-fight style.* I remember green eggs and ham the next morning for breakfast. I remember learning the Salty Dog Rag, and I think learning to sing [the alma mater] and other songs.” -Ken Gladstone ’85
“I remember we were all chatting away—about what I don’t even have the slightest recollection. After a while our trip leader Derek Webb said something like “we should be there already”. Most of the group started looking at the map except for Doug Geehan and me who were taking pictures. So we had to backtrack several miles to find the trail again. Too funny.” –John Graves ’85
“I was a bit of a nervous wreck as we gathered for our freshman trip. I am a Colorado ranch girl who had never been east of Dodge City, Kansas before arriving at Dartmouth freshman fall. My dad was class of 1944 and I loved his alumni magazines, so when I got in, I decided to enroll. I was shocked at stepping out of Logan Airport into heavy humidity that made my shirt immediately stick to my skin. That had never happened to me before. I was worried about finding my bus connection as I had never ridden a commercial bus before, made it, and then was nervous all the way to campus. Got in late, found my dorm, and was shocked in the morning when I could not understand the custodian’s New Hampshire accent. On top of it all I had just had a very bad first perm experience a few weeks before coming to school, and was very self conscious about my unintended new blonde afro. The trip was exactly what this stressed out kid needed. It was great getting to meet all these new people from such different backgrounds, paddling a canoe for the first time (also very scary, but oh so fun), seeing so much water everywhere! It blew my mind that flowing rivulets of water that would have been considered full blown creeks or rivers in my desert-like part of Colorado, had no names and were not even thought of as being streams at all. The Salty Dog Rag was a totally unexpected treat for me too- I absolutely love to dance, and adored learning a new style of folk dance, and then taught it to folks at home and in New Zealand when I was there in grad school.” -Gretchen Sporleder Orr ’85
*I can’t say I’ve ever seen this happen on Trips, at least not in the past four years!