Appalachian State University - Rhododendron Yearbook (Boone, NC)

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On The HIGH COUNTRY Road tea, and I was greeted with more of a cosmopolitan courtesy than the how-ya- doin ' -slap-on-the-back I had expected. I sat for awhile with a cup of Roast-a-Rama watching the parade when I suddenly remembered my purpose. I had to register at school. No time to waste, school days were at hand. Like any good college kid worth his salt, though, I abandoned my visit to the administration building the minute I found myself on campus. Procrasti- nation is a fine art practiced by all students, best get started on it early. The campus of ASU was unspec- tacular but comfortable. The late after- noon sunlight slanting through the trees gave it a contemplative feel but short of the haughty atmosphere of an Ivy League campus. I stopped by all of the college touchstones - the library, cafeteria, student union, bookstore assessing the university ' s potential for deviant behavior. I decided to ob- serve the students ' habits on the commons area, Sanford Mall. The day was cold but bright, and the ; Mall was humming with activities. The whole place reminded me of a finely manicured garden with people buzzing like bees spreading social and intel- lectual pollen through the air. It was a bit confusing to see new faces pour- ing from buildings and walking through the grounds. But still, the faces were consistent. Ski jackets, wool sweaters, and nylon book packs were everywhere. For a stranger, I felt curiously at home. Soon the intrigue turned to boredom and a different atmosphere to continue my observations was needed. Something tall and alcoholic was in order. It was time to explore the Rock, the mecca for ASU students. The Rock is connected to Boone by an 8 mile stretch of winding 4-lane. It takes four lanes to handle the mass exodus which occurs every afternoon and on the weekends from Boone to Blowing Rock. After the pleasant journey, I happened onto a rustic little watering hole called Woodlands. Once again, I had hooked into the herbal tea and vi- tamin crowd, this time hovering over beer instead of soybeans. The place was loud and jubilant - not a ski bib or monogrammed sweater in sight. These folks tended to move toward flannel