I refused to take the Dakota Marker for granite or granted last week — the trophy is quartzite and never easily won.

Saturday reminded us of that, though I will not let some football game ruin my week with the rock. As the equipment manager of Blue Key Honor Society, I took care of our university’s sole rivalry trophy. Here are my five days of fun boiled into five points:

1. Lessons from yesteryears

For having a centuries-spanning past, Dakota Markers still confuse the masses.

“So it’s like a rock?” citizens ask.

“Yep!” I respond, “It’s a replica of a Dakota Marker.”

“So … it’s like a special rock?”

Indeed, these rocks are, like, special. The real markers, plopped in the prairie between 1891 and 1892, separate North and South Dakota, spanning 360 miles along the seventh parallel.

I gave hundreds of these Wikipedia-endorsed history spiels last week, apparently covering for the social studies teachers who aren’t educating students on the rocks that line the world’s most boring boarder.

2. The rock is getting heavier

Those real markers stand 7 feet tall and weigh hundreds of pounds. The trophy is a few feet tall and less than 100, for now.

I don’t trust theories regarding mass or science in general; ergo, I don’t own an operational scale. I do trust people, though, and can confirm the Dakota Marker trophy is growing in size.

It’s like a good fish story.

“How much does it weigh?” someone asked Monday.

“A little more than 70 pounds,” I guessed.

By hump day, I’m pretty sure the trophy weighed an even 75. By Friday, I’d heard 85 pounds.

By Saturday, it was well over 300 pounds after South Dakota State won. I spitefully laughed as the team rushed over to the raise the trophy. This being the first time they’d ever been within four feet of the Marker, the Jackrabbits didn’t realize the rock separated from the 200-plus pound base. They collectively struggled.

Like I said, it’s heavy.

3. Who needs nice things

What caused more damage last week: A.) my neglect of homework or B.) the trophy?

The correct answer is B.

The rock might be gone, but the carnage remains. My watch is scuffed. My office table is scratched. My khakis, obliterated.

That last one hurts the most. In one of the final photo shoots of the week, I brought the rock to the Gold Star Marching Band’s rehearsal in the Dome.

Since we have a 200-piece band, we had the bandies circle around the trophy, which I tried to prop up in a conductor’s ladder, before then taking pictures from the stands.

I ripped my pants while getting the trophy on the stand because I was literally caught between a rock and a hard place.

4. Rock of masculinity

In impressive displays of manliness, North Dakota State’s finest gentlemen showed campus how well they could pick up heavy objects last week.

I think it harkens back to a caveman mating ritual.

“It’s not that heavy — especially compared to the real Dakota Markers,” I’d chirp.

“There are real ones?” some dude would respond, haphazardly approaching the dense rock.

By the time these bros found out how heavy the rock actually was, they were too far gone. In order to keep their box of masculinity from shattering, they needed to throw their backs, spines and necks into making sure they lifted that trophy while simultaneously grunting out, “Oh, it’s not that heavy.”

For some reason, their surprised and strained faces captured in the photos I took of them and the trophy didn’t become their profile pictures.

5. Wheels (and people) are wonderful

If you haven’t taken the time to thank the wheels in your life, please do so today. These simple machines (and the carts they support) are a Godsend, as were the folks who made last week possible.

I’d just be a boy with a rock without my ROCKSQUAD.

This rock-loving squad helped me bring the Dakota Marker trophy to tens of student organizations last week and manned those dreaded contact tables for hours on end, too.

The trophy may have been an awkward, heavy child, but it was our awkward, heavy child. I’m beyond thankful for the week I spent with it and can’t wait for its return back home.

For more Dakota Marker content, follow the rock’s journey @DakotaRock on Twitter.