As long as Sweetie and I have been together, we've been participating in Dartmouth night. I marched in the parade once in high school, but it was so wild and frightening (the crowd closed in on us and kids were throwing things in the tuba) that our band director vowed that we'd never go again. As a spectator, it feels much more safe.
Our evening started by meeting friends at Molly's in Hanover, NH. I know that any evening that starts with margaritas is going to be good. I had a tasty ahi tuna salad with soy glaze and wasabi. It was as yummy at it is pretty.
After dinner we stood just outside of Molly's to watch the parade. There were only three bands: Dartmouth College, Chester High School, Lyme Town. All the other area bands have probably sworn it off in fear of their lives and virginity. The rest of the parade is the college sports teams and members of each graduating class since the college's establishment. I didn't get any photos of the parade because we were being pelted with so much candy it was like being in a hail storm. Pipsqueak had a bag stuffed full, so I told her that she didn't need to go trick or treating now. She begged to differ.
The parade ends at the green where there are no less than a half hour of speeches meant to spirit the football team to victory the next day. Everyone stands around enduring the speeches, waiting for the bonfire to be touched off. This isn't a little campfire; this is a behemoth nearly 30 feet tall. The freshmen run around it while it burns, and the heat is so intense that they sport first degree burns on their left sides the next day.