"It was a weekend away from anything else, with a fun-loving party atmosphere," Dale Achenbach '69 said. He emphasized the sense of community spirit that characterized the weekend's celebrations.
Achenbach explained that a sense of uncertainty that inevitably preceded the Carnival made the occasion even more thrilling and worthwhile. Nervous students wondered whether the snow sculptures would be completed on time or when their female dates from nearby colleges would arrive. Once the weekend finally began, these tensions eased and students could relax and enjoy themselves.
While the only snow sculptures of recent Winter Carnivals has been the large structure erected on the Green, past Carnivals featured numerous sculptures. Angus Russell '52 recalled that virtually every fraternity on campus displayed a unique sculpture on its lawn.
"You might find an obscene statue from place to place," Achenbach said, referring to these sculptures. "Some of the houses got a little bit loose."
Due to a dearth of snow, the numerous sculpture designers occasionally needed to truck in snow to complete their masterpieces, just as Winter Carnival organizers have done in recent years.
Many alumni who believe that the current festivities lack the student spirit they remember attribute this diminishment to a broadening of Carnival activities, as opposed to Greek organizations' events as the weekend's focal point.
"We don't see the same energy invested in Winter Carnival anymore," Janine Eagle '88 said. "Clearly, the spirit has shifted away from the fraternity system, and that started happening when I was there as a student."
Some fraternity traditions themselves have even been cut; Psi Upsilon fraternity's keg jump, a ritual celebrated at 19 Carnivals, was discontinued in 2001 when the fraternity could no longer secure insurance coverage for the dangerous feat -- which involved fraternity members jumping over as many empty beer kegs as possible on Psi U's ice-coated front lawn. More than 600 people watched the last keg jump, which occurred in the winter of 2000.
Abigail Drevs '03, who was a freshman when the kegs saw their final jumper, recalls a dangerous and suspenseful tradition.
"There was a large amount of blood involved because many people landed on the ice," she said.
Other alumni, such as Sue Young '77, who now works as a class activities officer in Alumni Relations, believe that the level of commitment and excitement associated with Winter Carnival has remained the same, even if the traditions have changed.
While skiing has always been central to Winter Carnival, as it is the Dartmouth ski team's only home meet, the nature of ski events has evolved over time; in one discontinued campus event, students and administrators would race around campus on skis, flaunting ridiculous colorful costumes.
Young, a former member of the ski team, remembers a ski jump on the golf course fondly. Many students attended the jump competition, watching Dartmouth face-off nearby college teams. Although the jump was officially part of the ski team's competitions, bold students took the challenge as well.
"There were people I knew who surreptitiously went off the jump in the middle of the night," Young said.
Though the ski jump event was ultimately discontinued due to safety concerns, other traditional events such as the classic cross-country ski race have withstood the test of time.
Alumni also reminisced over other Winter Carnival staples that no longer remain. During the 1950s, students attended a large Winter Carnival formal dance, held in a space which has since been transformed into the fitness center.
Young also recalled watching fireworks launched from Occom Pond.
"They could be seen all around campus and illuminated the sky," she said.
