In this new, post-Snowpocalyptic world, man must battle machine for dominance.
When I shoved open the door to Butterfields B this morning, dressed in layers for all levels of chilly tempest (protip: Under Armor, then shirt, then hoodie, then coat), the only path to get out of the labyrinth was manmade — boot imprints probably left over from last night’s late-night partygoers. That was approximately 10 a.m. By the time I returned half an hour later, the CATs had carved out a path to the doors of my building but were still working on A and C. At least the wind wasn’t as awful as it got last night. No amount of Wesleyan hoodie will protect your face from snow that does not simply blow in one direction, but whips around and aims specifically at faces— like predator drones.
Despite the scary ubiquity of the snow, I was not the only person attempting to cross this hellscape. Also attempting to leave were a group of sophomores from Butt A — one of whom was not actually wearing shoes. I walked with the group through the semi-plowed paths and crossed Lawn Avenue, which, at the time, had seen exactly 0 clearing action. These are streets, that cars are ostensibly supposed to be able to drive on— well, not at the moment. The snow was about four feet high, and completely covered from High Street up. So we waded across.
Going to Church Street, which was completely driveable, we all had to avoid the CAT clearing the student paths. Don’t think about using stairs any time soon — they’re all submerged. The way to Usdan was pretty easy from there out, as the plows had pretty much made a neat-enough path along College Row. What’s amazing is seeing how Allbritton, PAC, and South College are impossible to get through, because the snow is just drowning them. I was a little worried that some of these glass doors would break under the pressure.
More of my adventures, and two entire galleries of photographs, after the jump.
Another CAT was working its way up and down from Church to Wyllys, and being semi-successful. It’s most advisable that, if you do dare to venture out for brunch today (which opened at 11 a.m. and will probably go on til 2 p.m., as usual),
you should engage in friendly conversation with the CAT drivers stay the hell out the way of the giant machines way because they will bury you in the Andrus Field snow drifts and you will drown and never be seen again. True story. In this battle between man and machine, machine will win. Unless you can lift 100 gazillion pounds of snow with your bare arms, and also have a steel exoskeleton.
I did, however, manage to have a short conversation with one of the drivers, who said that this was possibly a worst storm than the famous Blizzard of ’78. Which is crazy. According to this guy, who said he’d been working on campus since 2 p.m. yesterday, snow drifts around campus got up to 8-10 feet, which sounds about right. He did advise kids to stay away from CATs, and to “just be careful.” And then he returned to murdering helpless frozen water particles in large batches.
When I got to Usdan, the only entrance accessible was the one closest to Fayerweather, and even then you had to find a makeshift path and then pull the door open with all your might. Less than a dozen people were seeking refuge inside, and nothing was open yet, but I guess if you have to make the journey from some ungodly distance away, you only want to do it once. But hey, if you do end up going into the snow just for funsies, at least it’s perfect out for making snowmen.
Some observations: There are cars in parking lots that will probably not move for a good long time; if you are small and stand in the middle of Andrus, you will probably not be able to see over the snow; some people were sledding on Foss, which is admirable as long as you don’t just sink; the blizzard got exponentially worse from the time I left my friend’s room in Clark at 9 p.m. yesterday to when I watched people attempt to walk from Butts B to C at 12 a.m. this morning; I am really glad I have a supply of ramen in my room right now.
Following are two photo galleries, with my documentation (and some crowd-sourced pics) of this crazy storm and the people in it. If you see your friends, that probably means they’re still alive. Probably.
Today, Post-Snowpocalypse, 10 a.m.:
Yesterday, Pre-Snowpocalypse, 10 a.m. – 4 p.m.:
Additional photos of yesterday’s mayhem, courtesy of Tobias Butler ’13 and Arya Alizadeh ’13: