Zachary Austin

Engl 134

Marx

10-18-04

Up To the ÒPÓ

 

 

My knuckles grow white as I instinctively squeeze the handle of the car door.  The engine roars as we start heading upward, and soon all we can see through the windshield is sparkling, sapphire blue sky.  The gas-powered generator and spool of rope-lights crash around in the back of the truck.  As we near the top of the hill, the engine stutters for a second, and all I can think about is the loud, tumbling fall down Poly Mountain and the subsequent explosion at the bottom.  The truck quickly recovers though, and we surge to the top of the hill.  I catch my breath and survey San Luis Obispo in its entirety.  As we begin to unload our payload, I turn and examine our target: the Cal Poly ÒP.Ó 

The Cal Poly ÒPÓ lies sprawled across Poly Mountain, overlooking the Cal Poly campus.  Its presence provides a sense of security to the campus, standing watch over the school at all times.  Approximately 50 feet tall and 35 feet wide, its white concrete shape holds its own place in Cal Poly lore.  It is itself as integral a part of Cal PolyÕs history as any other building or monument on campus.  For nearly 90 years, Cal Poly students have looked up at the ÒPÓ in some form or another, and students will continue to do so for the next 90 years.

There has been some form of the Poly ÒPÓ on Poly Mountain since 1919.  Administration and students wanted to create a symbol that exhibited the university to the surrounding area.  The decision came down to a water tower with a ÒPÓ emblazoned on it, a popular idea at the time, or a large ÒPÓ on the side of Poly Mountain.  Due to the high cost of building a water tower, the idea of putting a large ÒPÓ on the mountain won out and construction began soon after.  The first ÒPÓ was created with rocks covered in white paint.  This proved to be inconvenient, however, as the rocks would be stolen or would slide down the hill.  The second generation ÒPÓ was created with old whitewashed barn doors by the Block ÒPÓ club, a group on campus dedicated to preserving this monument.  However, after several serious acts of vandalism effectively destroyed the wooden ÒP,Ó it was realized that a more permanent incarnation of this monument needed to be built.

While plans for a final, concrete ÒPÓ were being completed, another temporary, wooden ÒPÓ was created.  Failing to learn from history, the administration believed another temporary solution to the ÒPÓ problem would work.  With maintenance of this makeshift edifice left to the freshman class, the ÒPÓ soon fell into a shambles.  Finally, in 1957, members of Delta Sigma Phi and a group of agricultural engineering students took on the task of rebuilding the ÒPÓ as it exists today.  The money for this project was contributed by the FAA, as planes would use the ÒPÓ as a key visual landmark.  Concrete was poured on a wooden frame, and on May 3rd, 1957, the ÒPÕsÓ final form was given shape.  Throughout the 60s and 70s, upkeep of the ÒPÓ was taken on by the Rally Club, at the time the premiere school spirit organization on campus.  It was during these years that the tradition of lighting the P on the eve of every football game first got started.  However, as interest in the Rally Club waned during the late 70s and early 80s, so did the condition of the Poly ÒP.Ó  Various attempts at maintenance failed, and the ÒPÕsÓ condition grew worse and worse. 

Finally, in 1994, the spirit organization Running Thunder undertook the continued repair and maintenance of the Poly ÒP.Ó  The ÒPÓ was cleaned, cracks were repaired, and the tradition of lighting the ÒPÓ was renewed.  The ÒPÓ has since been returned to a place of prominence and pride among the Cal Poly community.   During the day, its bright white shape stands out against the brilliant green of Poly Mountain, and every Friday night before a home football game the lights surrounding the ÒPÓ stand out starkly in the darkness. 

The future of the ÒPÓ is not quite as bright, however.  Years of rain have weakened the soil beneath the ÒP,Ó and the huge concrete-and-wood structure is slowly sliding down Poly Mountain.  This has placed immense stress on the ÒPÕsÓ frame, and a retrofit is needed in the near future.  Nonstop exposure to the weather has worn down the ÒPÕsÓ surface, and the edges are now jagged and sharp.  Serious efforts need to begin in the next few years to save this landmark from extinction.

As the last strand of lights was taped to the inner border of the ÒP,Ó I felt a small sense of pride well up within me.  I had traveled up the side of Poly Mountain with Scott Barton, a 4th year student at Cal Poly and the keeper of the ÒP,Ó to set up the lights that would soon be highlighting Cal PolyÕs most recognizable landmark.  Scott estimates that over the past 3 years, he has climbed up to the ÒPÓ over 400 times.  What had seemed so awesome and wondrous to me was now simply a weekly routine for Scott.  This routine includes setting up the lights around the ÒPÓ before each home game, cleaning up the messages left by various social groups on the side of the hill, and continually fighting the tide of garbage that is left by students.  As we packed back into ScottÕs huge SUV and began the slow, careful descent down Poly Mountain, I felt as if I was instrumental in continuing a piece of Cal PolyÕs history, an instrumental part of a tradition that has, and will continue to stay with the school for a long, long time.  This journey deepened my own appreciation for the ÒPÓ and its history, so much so that I may aspire to become the keeper of the ÒPÓ some day.