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.