About 15 years ago, David Carson '85 strapped on his hockey skates, stepped on to Psi Upsilon fraternity's homemade skating rink and peered at the line of kegs he had to jump.
Little did Carson know that he would become one of the forefathers of this quintessential Winter Carnival tradition, which Psi U brothers faithfully uphold to this day.
Carson conquered about eight or nine kegs that day and then called it quits, realizing he did not want to sacrifice his body in order to jump over more kegs.
"It was a ball -- a group of fellas getting together having some fun in an athletic way in the midst of the great wintry north," Carson reminisced in a recent telephone interview with The Dartmouth.
Not much has changed since then.
The fraternity has flooded its front lawn to create a skating rink every winter since the 1960s, but the keg jump competition was not introduced until the early 1980s, Carson said.
Saturday morning, Psi U will once again be holding its annual keg jump competition.
It was during the winter of 1983 that Carson took his first jump.
"I participated in the keg jump, but I did more falling than anything else. I couldn't even skate," he said.
Despite his amateur skating, Carson managed to clear eight kegs without a scratch.
"I'm sure its dangerous -- just as dangerous as it is to cross the street," he said.
Carson said he was under the influence of alcohol while he jumped. "It was pretty loosey-goosey when I was there."
Carson said he is "dying to know what it is like now."
Christopher Campbell '96, a member of Psi U who jumped in last year's competition, seems to have had just as much fun as Carson did years ago.
"Jumping is a lot of fun. It's a huge Psi U tradition and many alumni come back to jump each year," Campbell said.
Chris Whalen '96, who also jumped in last year's festivities, said his experience with the keg jump was both "intense and emotional."
"As I sped down the runway, I thought of all the generations of jumpers before me and how much this event meant to them," Whalen said.
"For the second or two that I was airborne I was completely in the 'zone' -- oblivious to all but the kegs beneath me," he said.
"As I cleared the 10th, I heard the smooth glide of my skates, the roar of the crowd, and the exhilarating crunch of my freshly-broken clavicle against the firm, slick ice of my aspiration," Whalen said.
Campbell said the jumpers train by working out in the weight room every week and joked that they practice by jumping over pledges so they don't "hurt the kegs."
Whalen said he trained five to 10 hours a week during Winter term. Included in his regimen were weight circuits, a high-protein diet and various "test-jumps," he said.
Whalen claimed to have jumped from class to class on a pogo-stick while wearing skates to improve the feel and power of his jumps.
Campbell said any member of the house can jump, provided he or a local business sponsor is willing to contribute $25.
All proceeds go to charity, Campbell said.
However, some participants find the kind-hearted donations and the quest for eternal keg jumping fame often come with a price.
Although Campbell said the competition is not really dangerous, "there are always injuries."
In the past two years, one jumper dislocated his shoulder and another broke his collar bone.
Campbell pointed out that in each instance the jumper was attempting a record-breaking jump.
Whalen said the keg jump is dangerous, but "risk is something we all need to face in accomplishing our worthwhile goals."
"Some people ride through the New York subway every night to earn a living. Some people eat Hop fries every afternoon. I jump kegs because I refuse to let my fears stand in the way of my dreams," Whalen exhorted.
Campbell cleared eight kegs last year before being disqualified.
The master of the keg jump clearly is Thomas Huber '94 , a Psi U brother from Switzerland, who holds the world record -- a whopping 13 kegs.
Campbell said Psi U draws a huge crowd on the Saturday of Winter Carnival.
The spectators come, Campbell said, to watch the jumpers, listen to the commentary and receive promotional items.
Julius Ramsay '97, had other explanations for why so many people attend the event each year.
"Morbid curiosity," he said.
