1944

44 Peakbagging. It has to do with climbing mountains. In New Hampshire, it involves climbing all 48 of the peaks in the White Mountains over 4,000 feet high. You pull that off and you're a peakbagger. Your name is added to a list, you get a patch to sew on your rucksack, and that's the end of it.

It's no big deal, but it is great fun. Last July 23, along with Eric Barradale, I climbed the last of my 4,000-footers, Middle Carter by name, at 4,621 feet, and so my name is now enshrined with a million other hikers who have done the same tiling.

It took a while. I did seven of them leading Freshman Trips back in the seventies. Since then I climbed seven more with Eric Barradale, one with Wemo Epply, eight with Joe Stevenson '57, eight with my wife, Anne, ten with my son Gar, three alone with my Yellow Labrador Millie, and others with assorted friends. All in all, lovely days in the high hills, refreshment of the spirit, and a small, quiet sense of accomplishment.

Ah, but then there's the postcard from Dickand Carol Ranger in the Fiji Islands: "We've been paddling two-man sea kayaks 100 kms. for 11 days, a fabulous experience in the company of seven delightful Australians. We've also sailed our kayaks with jibs, tented on deserted islands and in villages, snorkelling whenever and wherever possible. ..." The Rangers said the next oldest couple in their group was 45 years old and concluded, "let's hear it for Grey Power!"

Closer to home, Burke Laboratory, named in honor of College benefactor and former Trustee Walter Burke, was dedicated September 25-26 in a fine flurry of dandy ceremonies: a dinner and luncheon, the dedication ceremony itself, and a symposium, "Chemistry in the 21st Century," with six outstanding scientists from around the country taking part.

The laboratory building, priced at $28.5 million and the culmination of 19 years of planning and hoping, is an addition to the old Steele chemistry and Wilder physics buildings and the more recent Sherman Fairchild Science Center.

There's a nice serendipity to living in New England: you get to see lots of old friends. In May we spent two days with Dick and ProcOsterg at their nifty Ipswich, Mass., waterfront place, with lots of boating and canoeing. In June, Twitch and Blue Duck (i.e., BobMiller and John Eaton, respectively) motored up our way to Cornish Flat, and we hiked our hills and reminisced a lot. And in August we popped down to Charlestown, R.I., for two days of beach time and good food with Lemand Ellie Arnold, who came east from California to an old family homestead.

Then there was the August 18 luncheon outing at Dick and Joan Whitings lakeside house in Eastman (Grantham, N.H.) for 32 New Hampshire and Vermont '44s—wives included, of course. In a word, you just can't beat the Dartmouth '44 fraternity. That's it. Blessings.

P.O. Box 24, Lovejoy Hill, Cornish Flat, NH 03746