A little light weekend reading

Boo-yah, weekend.  Take that.

Claremont Explorer: The Thompson Creek Trail

Last week I waxed poetic about the Claremont Farmer's Market.  But there's another place that's just as quintessentially Claremont -- the Thompson Creek Trail.  It's not rugged (far from it) but it's gorgeous -- and there are horses, goats, and the occasional chicken, which always catch me by surprise in the suburbs.  It's pretty year round, but especially nice in "winter" when the hills are green and the mountains snow-capped.  

Flat, paved 2.8 mile path = perfect for bikers or lazy people like me.

To be honest, I don't encounter a lot of college students at the Thompson Creek Trail.  But that's a shame, because I don't think there's a more relaxing place to spend the afternoon in Claremont -- and I include the idyllic Scripps College orange groves in that statement.  There are always joggers, families, and canines out and about, enjoying leisurely perambulations or more intensive workouts.

Gratuitous Louie snapshot!  Note dog-height drinking fountain.  Claremont, I love you.

During reading season, one of my "rewards" for completing part of my daily quota of admission files is a saunter down the trail with a certain Louis N. Smith.  

The Thompson Creek is behind the fence at the left in this photo.  I don't quite understand the California obsession with making creek beds of concrete.  I mean, I know it's meant to prevent flooding, but the "Creek" is usually completely dry -- even in rainy season.

If you're more adventurous (or don't have a white, fluffy dog who turns brown the minute he steps off a paved trail), the Thompson Creek Trail connects to other trails and parks, like the Claremont Hills Wilderness Park, which is great for mountain biking as well as hiking. 

With so many glamorous outdoors options in Southern California -- Joshua Tree, Mt. Baldy, Lake Arrowhead, the beach cities -- it's easy for an unpretentious trail in the small town of Claremont to get overlooked.  And that's part of why I like it.  It's low-key, it's charming, and best of all, no car required.

Life could be worse

As I've mentioned before, one of the big perks of reading admission files is working from home.  Here's the view from Dean Thyra's desk, approximately three miles from campus: 

Mountains and palm trees.  Not too shabby.

Autonomous Vehicles Challenge!!!

Way back in November I wrote about the autonomous vehicles class final (here and here), and said I'd post the professionally edited video when it became available.  Guess what?  It's finally up!!!  I can see why it took so long to produce -- it goes behind the scenes and shows all the excitement leading up to the challenge.

Watch all thirteen minutes on Youtube!

Note the packed auditorium and audience gasps and cheers.  The energy in the room was amazing.  I'm telling you, this was better than any sporting match I've ever attended -- including triumphant Team Wolverine getting carried out on fellow Mudders' shoulders, something I didn't really think happened outside Rudy.  And yes, there was a team wearing bunny ears (even the robot had a pair!), a team called Riding on a Pig, instructors in tie-dyed lab coats, and a pellet gun which sprayed the front half of the audience intermittently.  It. Was. Awesome.

E11.  Take it.  Or at least go watch the final.

Fun Facts from Tour Guide Training

Kyle (left) with previous tour-guide-in-chief and current senior interviewer Hannah.  Blond hair is not a requirement for admission employment.

Last week Kyle (the tour-guide-in-chief, pictured above) and I hosted three successive nights of tour guide training.  After we'd dealt with some of the most pressing issues, like placing orders at the Pita Pit and finding a delivery option for vegan and gluten-free pizza (it exists!  huzzah!), we were free to focus on other important stuff, like the academic content of tours.  One of the more unusual expectations of Mudd tour guides is that they need to be able to discuss all the departments in relative depth.  This isn't a realistic stipulation at most colleges, but remember, there are only seven departments on our campus -- and if we're going to brag about the multidisciplinary education our students receive, then we need to showcase it in our tour guides.

But for first-years who haven't yet taken classes in every single discipline, or for seniors for whom the math Core is just a distant memory, speaking with authority about every single department can be tricky.  So our nine new guides and twenty-one returning guides met with representatives from six of Mudd's seven departments.  This was particularly fun for the first-year students as they got a sneak peek into the "choice labs" that will be offered as electives in Core next fall, but even for experienced guides, there are always new updates.  Here are a few tidbits I picked up:

• The fastest lizards in Mudd's animal physiology labs run at about 5 m/second; that's half as fast as the best Olympic sprinters!
• Women now account for 42% of HMC's Computer Science majors.  This is far and away beyond any other college in the country.  And the fact that it's 42 is pretty nifty too.  (It's worth noting that the Chemistry department has long been more than 50% women -- even back when the college was less than a third female.)
• One of our Clinic projects this year is sponsored by a rival college.  Very entertaining.

Kyle himself is also a poster child for research opportunities at Mudd.  He just declared as a math major a couple of weeks ago (yay math!) but his research has included chemistry with Professor Maloney as a first-year, engineering with Professor Lape as a sophomore, ongoing research in children's literature with Professor Balseiro, and a new position in religious studies with Professor Dyson.  (Yes, that would be three current research positions, plus tour guide intern and at least one other job.)  So if you're wondering about being limited in your research options due to class year or major, I direct you to Kyle.  And if you're concerned about maximizing your opportunities of sushi consumption during your time at Mudd, then you definitely need to talk to Kyle.

Sundays in Claremont

If you're from a major metropolis, then the little town of Claremont (unofficial motto: City of Trees and PhDs) probably seems on the quiet side.  There aren't many chain stores, getting a downtown movie theater several years ago counted as major excitement, and there are certainly as many senior citizens as students, including a large population of retired Church of Christ ministers.

So it should come as no surprise that the great social event of the week is the Sunday morning farmer's market.  Every week, rain or shine, the entire town of Claremont shows up for bright strawberries, organic greens, and fresh baked bread.  I love it.  It's become so much a part of my tradition that I was genuinely astonished when my mother reminded me that in colder parts of the country -- like, say, New Jersey -- farmers markets don't open until June, and could I please stop mentioning the warm weather and the local produce.

One of the essential parts of the farmer's market tradition?  Breakfast in Claremont.  My allegiances have changed over the years -- Full of Life Bakery, 42nd Street Bagel -- and now Le Pain Quotidien, where I feasted this week on organic granola and cafe au lait -- with admission files, of course, because no Sunday morning is complete without those.

If I needed a reminder for why I like living near Claremont, beyond the sweet Craftsman bungalows and senior citizens picketing for peace, then each Sunday excursion fills that role beautifully.  Gorgeous mountain view, great weather, a bustling small town with restaurant options to spare -- yep, I can handle the suburbs.  And the fresh blueberries?  Those are pretty awesome too.