As I near the end of my third year, I find myself measuring college not only by my classes but also by our four-and-a-half-day intermissions between them. Before I arrived on campus as a freshman, I was inundated with Colorado College mail that blasted Block Breaks as the school’s standout feature, featuring images of students scaling rocks and maneuvering kayaks. As I waited for my acceptance letter, I imagined myself at CC. More specifically, how I would fill my time and make the most of my college experience.
My interest in CC was a long time in the making. My mom graduated from Cornell College. Throughout my childhood, she shared stories of her experiences on the Block Plan in Mount Vernon, Iowa, and of the long-lasting appreciation she has for the unique learning style found at just three colleges in the country. I considered that if my mom, who I mirror so closely in interests and learning style, reflects so fondly on her college days, taking one class at a time, I was sure I would too.
Now, three years into what began as a hypothesis on my college future, I can confirm my mom was right. I have completed 22 blocks. That is 13 block breaks, not including the longer, regular holiday breaks. I don’t claim expertise, but I have logged enough road trips, campsites and questionable rentals to recognize what goes into the perfect block break.
One of my all-time favorite breaks came after Block Two of sophomore year. This trip came together as a patchwork of small groups, roughly 20 or so students, culminating at the Piñon Flat Campgrounds at the foot of the Great Sand Dunes National Park. We committed to about two and a half days of camping, dune exploration and my personal favorite, the promise of Anya Potsialdo’s ‘27 bean-burger special.
The weather was bleak. Rain fell overnight and daytime temperatures peaked at a cool 55 degrees. Nonetheless, nearly two dozen of us took to the dunes. After arriving Wednesday night, we awoke early on Thursday, shoveled in a variety of camping-adjacent breakfast foods and walked five minutes to the foot of the dunes.
We rolled, crawled, tripped and sprawled across the national park. Much to our surprise, the sun broke through that afternoon and because it was late into the camping season, only a handful of other visitors shared the landscape. From above, clusters of CC students dotted the dunes, some deep in conversation, others rolling down the slopes and, in Delaney McDonough ’27’s case, watercoloring, until the late afternoon weather turned and rain drove us back to camp. We mustered a fire out of damp wood and salvaged what we could from a dying grill. Anya graciously treated a few lucky campers to mildly undercooked vegan burgers and bunless hot dogs before retreating to our tents.
The weather was dull and activities were limited in the downpour, yet the trip ranks among my most recommended. Great Sand Dunes National Park is just under three hours from campus, and campsites are inexpensive and require minimal planning. A trip like this works especially well for large groups because it carries low stakes. Almost anyone can climb the dunes; they demand energy but not serious commitment. The campground offers flat, spacious sites with car access and semi-clean bathrooms with running water. These luxuries should ease even the most camping-averse participants into the outdoors.
I don’t look back and dwell on the near-frigid temperatures. I do, however, recall most vividly exploring miles of sand, laughing continuously at the absurdity of the rain and seemingly infinite outpouring of dirt from shoes and jackets. It put forth a type of joy that only emerges when expectations stay low, and the company stays easy. If you are coming off a rough block and want a low-commitment, quintessentially CC-block break that won’t break the bank, the dunes deliver.
Another standout break came after Block 7 of sophomore year in Moab, Utah. A week before departure, we squeezed into a dorm room and sketched out our plan, as is usual for any block break. Delaney, my roommate Rachel Weissman ‘27 and I packed into one car; four more unlikely friends filled another. We left after class on the fourth Wednesday and arrived seven hours later in complete darkness. By car headlights, we pitched two tents, hung three hammocks and arranged enough makeshift chairs to enjoy a fire and wind down our first night with the remainder of our road-trip snacks.
Morning sun illuminated our setting. We awoke to a backdrop of red rock cliffs and a river running alongside our campsite. Again, I gladly entrusted my friends with the detailed planning (a common thread throughout my more enjoyable block break experiences). We started Thursday morning with a hike just ten minutes from our campsite.
The trail unfolded like a playground rather than a straight line. Rocks stretched to form huge arches, hollows and holes with massive canyons dotting the horizon. We scrambled and paused often in the heat to absorb the expansive landscape. We enjoyed this hike so much that three of us returned to it this year for block break five, taking more friends along.
Returning to the campsite with sunburns and audible hunger, we grilled dinner and spent the evening around the campfire again. Temperatures dropped at night.
The next morning, we tackled two longer hikes and then recovered with an extended drive through Arches National Park. After dark, amidst light rain, we set out for the town of Moab to seek nourishment at a local Mexican restaurant. Under a giant sombrero, I turned twenty while the three staff members accompanied my friends in singing “Happy Birthday”.
Both trips succeeded for similar reasons: we embraced flexibility. Block breaks can go awry quickly. Mine have been marked by snowstorms, bronchitis, speeding tickets and even the occasional rear-end collision on the highway, so we adapted to shifting weather and changing plans with our roadmaps and campsites. We wound down around campfires with decently grilled food or, in the case of my birthday, enchiladas.
This past break, I was coming off a sluggish block, marked by sickness. Just before the end of class, I canceled my trip home and joined my friends on spring break, intent on getting into good moods. We split between three cars, roadtripping to Palm Springs, Calif. After a week at our Airbnb in our desert oasis, spending long hours under the sun and by the pool, we packed our cars up. On our trek home, my longtime roommate, Rachel, and I checked out Joshua Tree National Park before continuing six hours north toward Zion National Park for the evening.
While packing bags and leaving campus can be tempting after a chaotic block, an underrated, often-overlooked approach to Block Break is the opposite: staying local. After a string of thoroughly exciting weekends and a properly large block break one, my roommate, Tessa Frantz ‘27, and I decided to try something new during Block Break two this year. We stayed on campus and set out to summit Pikes Peak, far too deep into fall.
Armed with little more than a backpack and a dream, we made it to the ridgeline, only to be met by a harrowing stretch of ice and wind gusts strong enough to knock us sideways. With no real choice but to turn back or risk ice burn, we abandoned our goal, much to our chagrin. We found reassurance in knowing that other, better-prepared hikers had also turned around, confirming our decision.
After our failed summit attempt, we pivoted to something equally unfamiliar: a nine-hour double blind date, eloquently recounted by Editor-in-Chief Frantz in last week’s edition. While we didn’t reach the summit of Pikes Peak or find our soulmates that Block Break, it remains a weekend we look back on with laughter and an appreciation for stepping outside our comfort zones.
Over my time at CC, I have developed my own recipe for a successful block break. The foundation of any good break relies on the people going. Friends can elevate or unravel your four-and-a-half-day reprieve. For example, my more intimate breaks last winter involved just three of us at family homes in Taos, New Mexico, and Telluride, while my largest block break involved a caravan of packed cars totaling somewhere around 60 students. Group size is quintessential to a Block Break, so sometimes less is more.
You also have to read yourself honestly, specifically, in relation to your enthusiasm, budget and emotional bandwidth ahead of Fourth Week. Feel settled with where you’re at. After some blocks, I crave uninterrupted sleep and perhaps a day of fair-weather skiing. After others, I’m itching to get off campus. The fastest way to ruin a break is to agree to a trip that you lack the emotional or mental energy for.
My tried-and-true combination for the best Block Break includes a couple of carfuls of friends, a compelling destination and, weather permitting, a meal cooked on an open flame.
When I reflect on my multitude of block breaks, I remember the people first and the landscapes second. I feel especially grateful for all that the American Southwest has to offer and for the opportunity to explore it month after month with a mix of roommates, close friends, occasional foes and, periodically, near-strangers.
I spent eighteen years living in Buffalo, N.Y., defined by heaps of snow and long winters. Niagara Falls stands as our singular, natural wonder. While I have a love for Western New York that only comes from being raised there, it is far from the expansive geographic diversity of Colorado, Utah or Arizona. Choosing CC was easy. Prepared for cold weather courtesy of Western New York’s lake-effect snow and confident in the block plan, the choice felt natural. Beyond CC’s obvious academic appeal, it has provided a playground for swimming, skiing, camping, and everything in between, sometimes underappreciated amid the blur of consecutive blocks.
Next time you plan a Block Break, whether you orchestrate the most unforgettable four-and-a-half-day trip of your college experience or a somewhat unremarkable weekend of R&R, bear in mind how exceptional the Block Plan is. Fewer than 5,000 students in the country are afforded a learning experience as unique as ours, and only about 2,200 do so in a place like CC. Even a long weekend off here serves as a reminder of how our education is anything but ordinary.