SUMMIT FEVER. Reed students brandish axes after climbing to the peak of Mount Hood, which boasts an elevation of 11,245 feet. (3.4 x 10^5 cm for you metric fans.)
An intrepid band of Reed students pulled off an epic feat last weekend, trekking for six hours through snow, ice, steam, and rock to reach the windswept summit of Mount Hood.
Environmental studies major Raphaela Hsu-Flanders ’16, political science major Sydney Scarlata ’16, physics major Evan Peairs ’16, and biology major Guananí Gomez-Van Cortright ’18 climbed Oregon’s tallest peak with Reed climbing instructor Rodney Sofich.
The began their trip at the flagpole at Timberline Lodge at 1 a.m., equipped with boots, ice axes, crampons, helmets, day packs, water, chewy bars, and sunglasses, except for Evan, who wore a pair of welding goggles (he’s a physics major—what did you expect?)
Vast. Vegetative. Vibrantly orange. President Kroger admires the gargantuan gourd bestowed upon him by a fleet-footed band of students.
An enormous pumpkin materialized in the office of President John R. Kroger last week, courtesy of a fleet-footed band of Reed students who wheeled the gargantuan gourd in on a handcart, installed it in the presidential suite, and promptly abstracted themselves from view.
Details of the shadowy operation remain unclear, but it appears that the stupendous squash—which weighs well over 100 pounds—was raised on the Flamingo Ridge Farm and resided in Commons for some time before its great migration to Eliot Hall. Students penned messages of holiday cheer on the colossal cucurbit, which now graces the president's coffee table.
The students also deposited a great pumpkin at the door of Community Safety Director Gary Granger in 28 West. Granger and his crew subsequently carved a face into the fleshy fruit and turned it into--what else?-- a gigantic Jack-o'-lantern.
Reed’s scrappy band of self-propelled runners posted impressive results at the Heart Breaker Run in Hillsboro on Sunday, demonstrating once again that Reedies think on their feet.
Philosophy major Ki Choi ’17 blasted through the 5K in a scorching 19:40, coming in third in a field of 318. It was Ki’s first competitive run since suffering an injury last semester, and judging by his rapid recovery, he’s only going to get faster.
In the 10K, bio major Shannon Bacheller ’16 won her age division, crossing the line at 0:58:29.
Reed students dress as Greek gods outside humanities lecture in 2012. Nudity at a similar event in 2013 prompted a Title IX investigation. Copyright Reed College.
The students who play the part of Greek gods and greet freshmen on their way to the first humanities lecture—collectively known as the Pantheon—will keep their robes on next fall, organizers declared at a community forum held by the Honor Council last week.
“No one will be naked next year,” said environmental studies major Elaine Andersen ’16, one of the HumPlayers, the student group that puts on the Pantheon.
The event, which has been staged for the last five years, typically involves male and female sophomores and upperclassmen who dress up as Greek divinities on the steps of Vollum Lecture Hall and welcome freshmen to their first Hum 110 lecture. The gods ask for libations, and freshmen respond (if they’ve done their homework) by spilling a few drops of coffee or water on the ground, re-enacting an ancient Homeric tradition. “It’s supposed to be fun and silly,” one student explained.
Reedies were out in force in the student union on Saturday, April 20, which has become—for better or worse—an international day of inhalation among cannabis enthusiasts.
Tradition calls for pot smokers to light up their joints at exactly 4:20 p.m., but hundreds of Reed students instead observed the moment by munching on free donuts. As the clock ticked down to 4:20 p.m., the SU was filled not with the skunky odor of marijuana, but with students eagerly anticipating their chance to partake of a communal feast on torus-shaped pastry. And it was all courtesy of the man who has become the most public face of Reed’s policy on alcohol and other drugs (AOD)—Gary Granger, director of community safety.
High fashion and devious fakery abound at Reed's March Madness (Photo from 2005). Photo by Orin Bassoff
Reedies packed the sports center on March 15 for an event they had been waiting for all spring. This wasn’t part of RAW, Reed’s annual arts week; it was a very different type of exhibition—March Madness.
Although March Madness at Reed may not feature as many teams—or as much advertising—as the NCAA version, its passion and intensity are unrivaled. This year marked the event’s 25th anniversary, and it showed in the approximately 200 spectators, participants, and supporters alike, who came out to watch the fun.
March Madness is a one-night, single-elimination tournament, featuring eight teams, compiled of Reed students, alumni, professors, and staff. The contest has its origins in 1989 when the Reed student team, which included Erik Brakstad ’89, was clobbered by a team made up of professors. “I thought to myself, where else would the student team lose to the faculty?” Erik said. He founded the tournament as a chance to get even for the loss, and the mania has only mounted since then.
Portland can be a bit gloomy this time of year, when unremitting rain provides the soundtrack for what can seem like unending final's work. But those grey skies couldn't dampen the spirit of the spring-fall thesis parade, which was celebrated last week in a particularly heartwarming bout of collective effervescence.
Bedecked in colorful costumes and covered in glitter, students danced and hugged each other to the beat of Reed’s drum corps. About 30 seniors hurled their thesis drafts on the bonfire in front of the library as classmates sprayed them with champagne (thankfully the temperature did not dip below the mid 50s).
There are few meals more popular amongst Reedies than pasta with red sauce. When the board points are gone and funds are low, a frugal student can turn a few dollars into a dinner hearty enough to sustain them through the wet chill of fall.
On Saturday, SEEDS (Students for Education, Empowerment, and Direct Service) organized a trip to a homeless shelter in Northeast Portland where students could employ their pasta expertise to help the less fortunate by cooking a giant feast.
From the farthest edges of the globe to the inner mechanics of the cell, Reedies have always loved to explore. Since 1977, Reed's study abroad program, run by the indefatigable Paul DeYoung, has sent out students to see world while making sure they come back in time to graduate. Reedies always return with stories to tell; here we present an occasional report of their adventures.
Amy Egerton-Wiley '13 was born and raised in Los Angeles. She fell in love with Chinese literature when she got to Reed, and decided to make it her major in her sophomore year. That spring she spent a semester abroad at Capital Normal, a Reed-approved university program located in Beijing. She chose Capital Normal (over an American-run program) because she wanted a truly Chinese educational experience, but the school's language-learning program, with its heavy emphasis on memorization, was uninspiring. So Amy to turned Beijing into her school: her Mandarin grew stronger with every conversation on a subway train or in a public park.
It has long been an open secret that Reed's outdoor programs are among the best in the country. Despite our long and storied tradition of exploring the wilderness, however, backpacking trips and whitewater adventures often don't make it into the description of a college better known for pursuing the life of the mind.
Fortunately, Reed has been getting some well-deserved recognition recently with glowing coverage in Outside Magazine and the Wenger outdoor blog.
Plutarch's On the Glory of Athens relates the story of Eucles, the Greek who ran 26 miles from Marathon to Athens bearing the news that the Athenians had miraculously defeated Xerxes' army. After declaring, "We have won!" Eucles promptly died of exhaustion.
Last week bio major Ethan Linck '13 ran almost four times further, jogging 93 miles around Mt. Rainier on the Wonderland trail in just under 27 hours, the fastest unaided solo run ever recorded on that trail. Fortunately, he lived to tell the tale!
Ethan has been running cross country and track since high school, but got interested in 'ultra-running'—punishing long distance runs—at Reed, inspired by the heterogenous terrain and the strong ultra-running community in the Pacific Northwest. On his running blog he describes building up to the Wonderland trail: summer frustrations with similar runs, growing confidence in his own fitness, unexpectedly beautiful weather, and senior anxiety about leaving Oregon with so many adventures unexplored. All this led to the question that has pushed so many Reedies to do something outrageous: "Why not?"
Metaphysical education. Lifeguard Eliya Cohen '15 presents philosophical whiteboard to inquisitive Reed swimmers. Photos by Jenn McNeal '14.
The German philosopher Martin Heidegger said the best place to think philosophy was in a hut deep in the Black Forest while a storm raged outside. That may have been true for Heidegger, but it is not necessarily true at Reed, where a robust metaphysical debate has broken out in an unlikely location--the swimming pool.
Visitors to the sports center will notice that the poolside whiteboard no longer displays lap times and opening hours; over the last month it has sprouted a fascinating sequence of questions, claims, and rejoinders that have grown to fill every square inch. The debate began when philosophy major and lifeguard Eliya Cohen '15 asked fellow philosophy major Finn Terdal '12 to jot down some problems of metaphysics on the whiteboard to ponder during her shifts. The questions soon provoked students, alumni, professors, philosophers, physicists, and other sentient life forms who frequent the pool.
President John Kroger braces for impact as rubber ball of doom hurtles towards its target. Photo by Alex Krafcik '15, courtesy of the Quest.
Perched on a minuscule platform, clad in trunks and a red Orientation t-shirt, Kroger shivered with anticipation as Reedies lined up to throw rubber balls at a bull's-eye target from a distance of roughly 15 feet.
Monday morning, 8:45 a.m. First day of class. As the new crop of freshlings streamed towards Vollum for their first real Hum lecture, laden with backpacks, and clutching coffee cups and water bottles, they were greeted by an unusual spectacle: a veritable pantheon of Greek gods hooting and hollering on the steps outside the lecture hall.
"Libations!" cried the gods. "Libations to honor mighty Zeus!"
For years the porch by the Paradox Café has been graced by an anonymous series of sofas. Coffee-sipping students slouched across them at all hours; their fabric and stuffing distressed by wrappers, cigarette butts, and water damage. Eventually a student union manager would remove a couch for detoxification. A new couch would arrive. Repeat.
The installation of a set of beautiful wooden benches to the Paradox porch last week finally broke the fabric cycle. The 300- to 400-pound sectional benches were hand hewn from a magnificent Douglas fir that stood for nearly 200 years on the east side of campus before falling three winters ago.
As the sun sets on a wet Friday afternoon, students painstakingly finish sawing the archaic log in half. Photos by Alexi Horowitz '13.
Check out the video by Alexi Horowitz '13
Sawdust flew, chips piled up on the ground, and a sweet piney scent permeated the air as the crosscut gnashed its way through the log. The tree was a Douglas fir that had presided over the Great Lawn, right behind the softball backstop, for 130 years. As the story goes, the 100-foot tree fell during the snowy winter of '09, exposing the decayed roots that caused its downfall.
But the tree's story was not over. Marie Perez '12 got the idea to craft a bench out of a giant section of the trunk. She and other Reedies undertook the mammoth task of using a four-foot crosscut saw (old-timey two-person logging saw) to cut the log in half. Students were invited every evening of finals week to put their studying on hold and come out to the west parking lot to help slice the wood. Over 40 students and staff members turned out to help fashion the trunk into a (very) solid bench for all to sit on. It took about 17 hours of solid sawing to completely halve the log.
The bright May morning was filled with enthusiasm and laughter, as family and friends descended on campus to celebrate Reed's 98th Commencement with the 288 members of the class of 2012 under the majestic white tent on the Great Lawn.
The ceremony began to the rousing (or as one senior commented: "awful") sound of bagpipes. Graduating seniors applauded faculty members who guided them during their time at Reed. In an act of symmetry and acclaim, the graduates were then applauded by their professors after they had collected their shiny new diplomas.
In his last commencement speech, President Colin Diver poked fun at graduating with Reed on the "10-year plan." He was surprised nonetheless, when Don Berg '12 shouted from the audience that he had gone to Reed on the 25-year plan. (Don first arrived on campus in 1986!)
Eliot Circle erupted in a flurry of snowballs this morning as upperclassmen enacted a relatively new tradition, the Pelting of the Freshmen, after the final Hum 110 lecture of the academic year.
Unidentified upperclassmen (rumored to include Seth Douglas '13 and Jeremy Lawrence '12) drove a pickup truck to Mount Hood, loaded the bed with snow, and lay in wait for the unwary freshlings to emerge from Vollum. Cheers rent the air as the youngsters streamed down the steps and the icy fusillade commenced.
Reed has just announced that Oregon Attorney General John Kroger will be the college's 15th president.
"John impressed us with his brilliance and clarity, advocacy for the primacy of the liberal arts education, and his commitment to the mission and vision of Reed College," said board chair Roger Perlmutter '73. "We are very excited about his arrival on campus this summer."
For five hours on Friday, April 13, Reed's strongest soccer players battled for the championship and its rewards: plastic medals bestowed by soccer coach and event organizer Larry Beutler.
The soccer tournament follows on the heels of the March Madness basketball tournament, and takes a similar form; eight teams of six players each square off with round-robin-style elimination.