The DOC "Peak-Bag": Reaching new heights of achievement
Imagine flying over the White Mountains at noon on a brisk October day. Now imagine peering down through a cloudless sky and seeing 350 Dartmouth students, faculty, and alumni jumping up and down and waving flags on all the peaks from Moosilauke to the Presidentials. If you had been soaring over the North Country on October 6, 1984, you would have seen exactly that. And you would have heard 350 people singing Richard Hovey's poem, "Men and Dartmouth," and reading proclamations declaring it "Dartmouth Outing Club Day in New Hampshire."
Last year, when we were brainstorming for ideas with which to celebrate the club's 75th anniversary, we came up with a program of commemorative dinners, displays, and reenactments of former heroic feats. But we got the feeling we should do something new and untried as well; we needed some fresh event which would really symbolize the club's philosophy and raison d'etre something which showed that the spirit which had inspired the creation of the Outing Club had not diminished in 75 years. Fred Harris '11 founded the Dartmouth Outing Club in 1909 to get students out of their dorms, so they could enjoy and learn to appreciate the winter wonderland. Invigorating activity replaced wistful dreams of spring. With this history of energy and innovation, we thought a simultaneous ascent of all 48 of the 4,000-footers in New Hampshire would not be inappropriate. The idea was simple, the logistics incredible. But after all, doesn't Hovey's poem joyously proclaim, "Greet the world, from the hills, with a hail!"?
As 1 stood on the steps of Robinson Hall this early morn of October 6, watching this wave of activity invade the campus, I breathed a sigh of relief. Although I could see my breath and I could feel goosebumps emerging on my legs, I could also see patches of pure, unspotted sky through the characteristic Hanover morning mist. A last minute call to the Mount Washington weather service the night before had brought panic and reports of snow falling everywhere above 3,000 feet along with 14-degree temperatures and 70-mph winds. However, as the sun rose, nightmares of engulfing blizzards turned into pleasant daydreams of frolicsome snowball fights on the summit.
The road to the mountains was covered with Dartmouth cars going to different starting points. My group was assigned to Mount Monroe in the Presidentials, right next to Washington. We started at the head of the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail, which is also the point of departure of the famed Mount Washington Cog Railway. Leaf peepers in highheeled shoes, sporting freshly purchased Washington T-shirts, gaped at our comparatively rustic appearance and our great proliferation of 75th-anniversary flags. "Are you really going to climb that thing?" they asked doubtfully.
"Yes," was our reply. "And we're going to wave to our friends who are on top of all the other mountains." They looked confused.
At five till noon we plodded to the summit through two feet of fresh snow. The atmosphere as we read the proclamation differed considerably from that of the governor's office, where it had been signed. All the mountains were capped with brilliant white, but the valleys were still full of the yellows and reds of peak foliage season. Dwight Aspinwall '84 and Martha Cornell '86, vice president of the DOC, did a stunning rendition of the "Salty Dog Rag." As my father, a '44, led us in a rousing performance of the alma mater, we knew that the little dots of color we could see on the neighboring peaks were our friends and that they were probably singing, too.
After these brief but significant moments of pageantry, we hurried down the mountain to join our fellow peak-baggers in a grand celebration at Moosilauke Ravine Lodge. The crowd at the lodge was probably the largest those trusty old spruce floorboards have ever sustained, even taking freshman trips into consideration! And with the amount of frequent jumping up and down as each new group came in and proclaimed their peaks officially "bagged," I am surprised the whole place didn't collapse!
The variety of participants was impressive. Some peaks were climbed by groups from specific organizations The Dartmouth, the radio station, and Psi U, Gamma Delt, Alpha Theta, Alpha Delta, and other fraternities, the Chamber Singers, the winter sports division of the DOC, the Mountaineering Club, and the ski team. Others were people who had never met before but had signed up for the same peak. Some had a wide range of hiking experience, others none at all, except for the possible exception of their freshman trip. The participants ranged in age from hearty alumni from classes of the '3os and '4os to eight-year-old Katherine Birnie, daughter of earth sciences professor Dick Birnie '66, who climbed both peaks of Mount Osceola, and Professor Scott Drysdale's baby, who won't be hiking for a few years, enjoyed the ride but on her father's back!!
At 5:00 p.m., groups from 38 peaks had checked in, but there was a lull in the arrival of new groups. "Help!" we thought. "What if one of the groups didn't wake up at 5:30 to fulfill their commitments? What if only 47 instead of the complete 48 peaks have been climbed?" In came groups 39-44. Someone said, "I don't think anyone climbed Adams!" Momentary panic, then an indignant voice said "What do you mean we didn't climb Adams? Here we are!" And the Adams crew stepped forward and slapped their proclamation and wind-battered flag on the table. At 8:00 p.m. Jake Lowenstern '85, chief catalyst of the event, announced that group number 48 had just come in. All the peaks had been climbed. The crowd went wild.
Somehow all of the 250 who remained for dinner got plenty to eat and were able to square dance without casualty. Later that evening, around the bonfire, people traded stories on their varying climbs. One of the more amusing ones, told by Jim Taylor, captures the essence of the whole event. Upon reaching the Unspectacular summit of Mount Tom, one of the very few peaks which does not provide a fine view, Jim and other alumni in his group decided to climb trees to spot Big Greeners on the surrounding peaks. As they were enthusiastically waving their 75thanniversary flags and singing from the "needlely" heights of the fir trees, a perplexed and unseasoned hiker yelled up to them, inquiring sincerely, "What are you guys doing up there? Are you trying to join a fraternity or something?"
"No," Jim said, trying to stifle his laughter. "We're just part of a kind of large birthday party."
Representatives from the classes of '44, '84, '85, '86, and '88 posed at the summit of 5,385 foot highMount Monroe to record a moment in DOC history: when 350 people climbed New Hampshire's 48mountains of more than 4,000 feet on October 6, 1984. (The photographer was a "through-hiker," ayoung man hiking from Maine to Georgia along the Appalachian trail.)
