The College has no shortage of traditions, from laps around the Homecoming bonfire to the semi-legal late-night swim that is the Ledyard Challenge. During past Winter Carnivals, however, some combination of cabin fever and a College-sanctioned holiday have driven students to come up with some downright ridiculous traditions.
The Carnival has featured snow sculptures, parties and wacky outdoor events nearly since its inception in 1911, along with the rise and fall of certain traditions like the keg jump and off-beat ski races.
College archivist Peter Carini said the snow sculpture, built in the middle of the Green each year, is one of the longest standing Winter Carnival traditions. It began in the 1920s, Carini said, and was generally constructed by the freshmen class.
Other snow sculptures scattered around campus were constructed by members of Greek houses or residents of a dormitory, Carini said. The results, he said, were often humorous, creative and, at times, irreverent.
One year, the official snow sculpture was a Native American man shooting an arrow into the sky. In response, a fraternity built a sculpture of Eleazar Wheelock with an arrow in his behind, Carini said.
Ish McLaughlin ’88 remembered a year when students living in Gile residence hall built a giant toilet on the Gold Coast lawn.
“You could even flush yourself through it,” McLaughlin said. “They built it out of ice, so you could climb up the back, drop into the bowl, and come out of the bottom.”
Another old-school tradition, Carini said, was the Queen of Snows beauty pageant. The pageant was judged every year by a “visiting Dartmouth dignitary” and the winner would receive a trophy or a crown. The pageant ended shortly after the college began to admit women, Carini said.
Another tradition that has since been shut down is the Psi Upsilon fraternity keg jump, which began in the 1980s. The fraternity would create an ice rink on its front lawn and arrange kegs for participants to jump over while on ice skates, Carini said.
Skaters would begin by clearing one keg, then two, then three and so on, as those who did not make it were eliminated. The champion was the last man standing.
In 1984, Psi U began allowing students to sponsor skaters, raising money for charity. The last jump took place during the 2000 Winter Carnival, after which the event was shut down due to safety concerns.
Some traditions also harken back to Carnival’s roots in the Dartmouth Outing Club. In addition to social events, the weekend has traditionally included ski races attracting competitors from around the world, Carini said. The races were so popular in the early days of the Carnival that some European royals even attended, he added.
McLaughlin said that a dangerous imitation of these races evolved indoors in Mid-Massachusetts Hall. During the 1980s, students would celebrate the winter season by cascading down three flights of stairs on skis.
“They’d race down the stairs — no ice or snow, just stairs and skis,” he said. “It was a bit much.”
During this time, the student-invented winter dormitory sports did not end with skiing. Students also used to flood the ground floors of the Massachusetts Row dormitories and open their windows, creating indoor ice rinks, Carini said.
At this year’s carnival, many first-year students will experience the chill of Occom Pond in the winter with nothing more than a bathing suit to provide insulation from the cold. The Polar Bear Swim, during which students shed their winter layers and take a short swim in the pond through a hole cut in the ice, began in 1994.
Alex Bulteel ’16 took the plunge last winter and had a good experience, despite the freezing cold.
“It was super fun — I think that traditions like these add a lot to campus culture,” Bulteel said. “It didn’t actually feel cold during the swim, but getting out was pretty bad.”
He also added that the tradition is a positive, constructive way to have fun without alcohol.
While the Polar Bear Swim is more a test of temperature endurance than of physical fitness, the human dog sled race is a legitimate sporting activity for students. The event has been held since the 1970s, Carini said, and in its most recent iteration involved teams of three hauling a fourth student a distance of about 20 feet and back.
Upon hearing about the various exploits of students throughout Carnival history, Robbie Neuhaus ’16 expressed an air of nostalgia.
“I wish we were still allowed to be dumb kids,” he said.
Don’t we all. Carnival began as a celebration of the winter season, and I can’t think of a better way to celebrate winter than to do goofy things in the snow. It used to be between semesters, which certainly took a lot of the stress out of the weekend. But the D-Plan cannot be blamed entirely for the slow decline in the excitement of Carnival.
The switch was made in 1973, but snow sculptures graced the lawns of Greek houses and dormitories well into the ’80s, and skaters were flailing over kegs until 2000.
Perhaps it is just the way it goes — and maybe it’s for the better — but I don’t think anyone would be worse off spending a little more time goofing off outside.
