Undoubtedly, though, the highlight is M-Day (because, frankly, our football team wasn't very good). School lets out half a day early and we all head to M-Hill about two miles away from campus. It's so named for the big white M – there's also a smaller S and D on the hill which were added later, I'm guessing in the late 60s, early 70s – visible from nearly the entire east side of town. Below the hill is an expansive park with a green belt running alongside Rapid Creek. The first order of business is usually the BBQ picnic food, which you'll need to fortify yourself for the climb up M-Hill. Let me tell you, if you ever get to see this hill in person, don't be fooled: it's not a shabby climb, esp after you've been through Rapid Creek. There's no set route to get to the top, but generally people pick the most direct, which takes you through, in some places, fast-moving waist-deep water – and then some very steep hill. That's the one I took as a freshman, except I got thigh-deep water. I remember feeling very out of shape on that climb – I had yet to start going to the gym then – and continually having trouble with my wet slippery sandals.
At the top, the real tradition begins. Sure, there's the views of Rapid City, but that's not what we climbed the Hill for. For most, it's a spectator sport; for those crazy few, it's...just painful crazy. The (current) purpose of M-Day is to whitewash the M – with willing bodies. Yup, that's what student-engineers do for fun, in case you've ever wanted to know. But really, the M-Week committee hauls (by car, up a back road) these barrels of whitewash to the M and, rather than mopping the stuff over with some brooms (like normal people), they pour it down the M and people ride down on the whitewash wave. It kind of gives you an idea of how steep it is up there. Let me point out a couple other things: 1) The M is made of concrete slabs so those wanting to whitewash the M must come prepared for cuts, bruises, and ruined clothes. In fact, most people go to the second-hand store and get several layers of clothing. 2) I mentioned the slabs. If you look in the picture, there's grass growing in between those slabs and they're not always flush with each other, i.e. not the smoothest ride if you're not lucky. Though I don't have a picture of it, Drew and his then-roommate went down the M a couple times themselves. They had each tried riding on the frisbee that the school gave out that year, but lost them partway down. Drew went home with torn shorts and a bruised thigh – and was on the front page of the local paper.The other element of M-Hill tradition has to do with the S and D. Each graduating class of engineers has their name done up on a plaque and is installed there. My mom's and Drew's dad's name are located on the S – and when our time (finally) came, Drew's and my name are on the D. (Drew's brother's name is up there too, but I forget whether it's on the S or the D.)
The real fun, in my opinion, was the mud volleyball. It's not so much a game of volleyball as a bunch of "fresh"-adults playing in the mud. I tell you, I hadn't intended on getting that dirty, but there it is. (Drew's considerably dirtier because he claims a couple of football players tackled him and smashed his face into the mud.) If you've never played in the mud before, I highly recommend it – at least once. Afterwards, I had a very cold bath in the creek in order to secure a ride home, and after a couple of attempts at washing, the clothes ended up in the garbage. (The top was originally light pink in color, but I gave up after it turned from brown to orange-ish brown.) I lived in the dorm for three (of four and a half) of my college years and it's funny to think back on how well-prepared the cleaning ladies were on M-Day. In the morning, long strips of black plastic bags would appear taped securely to the carpet from every entry point leading to the bathrooms.In subsequent years, we didn't go to M-Day for various reasons. During 1999 and 2000, M-Week was held later than usual and those two years there was an anomalous cold snap that particular week. One year it was actually snowing on M-Day. It wasn't until our senior year that we returned to do the Hill, mostly to see our names and to relive the memories. (Neither did we whitewash nor mud volleyball.) My one disappointment was to see that someone had erected a temporary foot bridge across the creek so that people wouldn't have to get their feet wet. (There is, however, a permanent bridge that spans the creek, but it's another two miles up the creek.) In protest, a number of the upper classmen, including Drew and I, forded the creek within view of the people daintily stepping across the bridge.
