With the D. O. C.

As THE 1933 Alumni Carnival program of L February 24, 25, 26 reached its peak Saturday, a crowd of nearly 50 gathered at Moose Cabins to tackle a D. O. C. Feed, watch college skiers twist their way down Otto's "natural" slalom cut through the trees on the slopes of Moose Mt., and compete themselves in informal ski competition. With the Washington's birthday holiday coming in the middle of the week, out-of-town alumni attendance was cut considerably, but Hanover alumni rallied to the cause. And yes—once again a D. O. C. Carnival brought its snow the day it arrived.

Immediately the Outing Club winter sports attention turned north to Moosilauke with its now famed down-mountain course, where in 1927 the Club ran the first organized down-mountain race in this country. To the D. O. C. this year fell the honor of holding the first National Championships in this branch of skiing. With a zest and energy that made things hum a crew of nearly 100 workers joined efforts to create the smooth running race machinery for March 12. Seventy racers were at the start; two hours later "Ben" Woods '36 had officially dropped the amateur course record to eight minutes and 4/5 seconds, with Harry Hillman but 1/5 of a second behind, while to the Dartmouth team went the first National team title. At the College race a week previously with 53 entries, Woods, W. C. Mac Carty '33, and M. Chandler '32 were the winners.

The campus echoed to the volley of the D. O. C. cannon and the cheers of 25 seniors as a heavy laden bus swung around the Chapel corner, headed north toward Pinkham Notch. A record-breaking Senior Mt. Washington trip left Hanover over the Town Election Holiday, March 11-14, under the leadership of Dick Goldthwait. The trip northward to Pinkham Notch left the mud and slush of the campus far behind, as every mile saw the snow piled higher alongside the road.

The morning was cloudy, and there was snow in the air, but Joe Dodge's advice, after radio communications with the Summit Observatory, was favorable for our trip to the top. Skis, parkas, crampons, cameras were marshalled and an eager file of skiers disappeared up the Jackson Road, thence to the Half-Way House of the Carriage Road, where final preparations were made for the climb by foot from there to the top. Nineteen parkahooded men turned the corner of the road above the trees and leaned into the wind. The climb went slowly, as weather conditions became steadily worse, but the middle of the afternoon found everyone on top, tired, but warm and happy, as we peeled off parkas and sweaters and reflected that hot tea on top of Washington was one of the most glorious affairs of this world.

Due to our late arrival, however, and the severity of the weather conditions, our scheduled return that night was out of the question. The kindness of the Observatory Crew, who gave us food from their winter rations, and the warmth of Camden Cottage offered comfort that was only too welcome. Bill Raoul's stew of that evening will go down in history as one of the greatest culinary works of the age.

The morning was mild, though the clouds hung about the summits of the mountain. A leisurely descent, broken by long glissades over wind-packed snow fields, brought us again to the Half-Way House. Then off for a long run down the Carriage Road, and back over the Jackson Road and its roller-coaster speed to a hot and welcome lunch at Pinkham.

The bus was packed, amidst the lastminute scramble for the mislaid equipment of the week-end, and off for the trip to Hanover and the familiar surroundings of the D. O. C. House. There as we settled blissfully into our seats before a glorious Off-the trail supper, the Senior Mt. Washington trip of 1933 died officially. But, like John Brown's body, its soul goes marching on.