Spring/Summer 2004

How 'creative development' is shaping the Valley's future
by Katharine Bill


With its spectacular scenery and caring community, the Methow Valley is often thought of as an undiscovered Shangri-la hidden in the North Cascades. But with recent articles about the Valley in Runner’s World, Outside Magazine, the New York Times and the Seattle Times, among many others, the secret is out. As people discover the beauty of the Methow Valley, and rush to own some of the pristine country, a window of opportunity exists to shape the future of the Valley.
Will the natural beauty and rural character of the Valley persist? That is the question many dedicated volunteers, non-profit groups and government agencies have been working to answer for over two decades. Through these formative years for the Methow Valley, increasing numbers of people have found creative ways to approach development and growth.

The term ‘creative development’ comes from the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, which published Dealing with Change in the Connecticut River Valley, in 1989. This 180-page report describes innovative ways to integrate development and resource protection through rural landscape planning. The report includes three panels (see below) illustrating conventional versus creative ways to plan for people, open spaces, trails and wildlife corridors. According to John Hayes, the Methow Valley would not look the way it does today without the Lincoln Land Institute panels. Hayes came to the Methow Valley in the early 1980s after having lived in Germany and Colorado, where he saw the potential for communities based around trails, natural beauty, agriculture, clustered development and what he calls a “sense of neighborliness.”

Undeveloped Land
Typical Unplanned Development
Land-Sensitive
"Creative Devlopment"
These panels illustrate conventional versus creative ways to plan for people, open spaces, trails and wildlife corridors. The drawings are from a report by the Lincoln Institute of Land Policy, which describes innovative ways to intergrate devlopment and resource protection through rural landscape planning.

Hayes’ vision pushed him to invest years of volunteer time into making creative development a reality in the Methow Valley. “We live in a unique place,” he says, “and we all have different perspectives on why the Valley is important. There’s a better chance of holding onto this landscape if we can involve all kinds of people and come up with incentives instead of regulations.” And that’s what Hayes and numerous others have done.

Incentives for trails include federal income tax deductions for donating trail easements and increased property values around areas of open space. Deeded trail easements also help landowners, non-profit organizations and government agencies coordinate in a tangible and effective way.

The vision for clustered development also allowed seven planned developments to happen between Winthrop and Mazama before the Department of Ecology limited group domestic permits in 1991, and while the DOE opened group permits for 120 days in 1994. By grouping houses together, creative planners minimized the roads and impacts associated with development, protected open space and defined the terms for public trail access.

Trails lead the way
The Methow Community Trail is the common link between many creative developments in the Methow. Today the trail spans 22 miles between Winthrop and Mazama, and private landowners and public agencies have donated all trail access deeds. Volunteers wrote and negotiated all the plans and agreements, and grants from the State paid for the Tawlks-Foster suspension bridge and surfacing the trail with gravel.

Hayes was one mastermind behind the system, but he says, “there’s no way one person was the author of any of it. There was a convergence of thought on planning and design that gave an alternative to the short-platting happening all over the Valley.” Hayes believes that trails lead to landscape planning from the ground up, by fostering a sense of care and stewardship from those who know their own land best.

While surveying for the Community Trail in 1997, Tracy Lloyd, a state fish and wildlife biologist, noted a stretch of particularly productive salmon spawning habitat along the Methow River. Lloyd suggested this area as a potential conservation easement property, and the Methow Institute Foundation quickly made the conservation easement a reality. This easement was the first conservation easement in the Methow Valley donated to a non-governmental agency, and soon after drafting the easement the MIF transferred it to the Methow Conservancy.

Conservation easements take the next step
This donated conservation easement helped launch what is now one of the most successful conservation easement programs in the State. The Methow Conservancy is an independent land-trust organization, run by a local board of directors and five part-time staff. The Methow Conservancy is a member of the Land Trust Alliance, an umbrella group for over 1,200 land trusts nationwide.

The mission of the Methow Conservancy is to protect and steward the Methow Valley’s vital natural resources by offering positive, voluntary conservation options. The Conservancy works with interested landowners to identify and protect important areas for people and wildlife, and today the Methow Conservancy holds 39 conservation easements on over 3,700 acres in the Methow Valley.

A conservation easement is a voluntary legal agreement between a landowner and a non-profit or government agency that protects conservation values (wildlife habitat, open space, farmland, etc.) by permanently restricting certain activities (development, subdivision, mining, clear-cutting, etc.). Conservation easements are filed with the property deed and remain with the property if it is sold or inherited.

A donated easement may qualify the landowner for federal income tax deductions, and in some areas the Methow Conservancy has received grant funding to purchase conservation easements. In these cases, a certified appraiser determines the easement value based on the rights that are restricted. Each easement is unique and tailored to the property and the landowner’s interests.

Many people choose easements as a way to ensure long-term protection of land that they love. As easement landowner Caryl Campbell says, “We couldn’t bear the thought of that beautiful property being carved up with houses and roads everywhere.”

Towards sensible growth
Most people agree that the Valley’s economy depends on our magical combination of scenery, community and recreational opportunities. Through creative development tools like conservation easements and clustered developments, the Methow Valley is achieving what has evaded so many other places in the rural West – a balance between growth and resource protection.

So the next time you’re on the Methow Community Trail, consider the neighborliness that has allowed this winding path. The trail is a reminder of the tangible steps that MVSTA, government agencies, businesses, the Methow Conservancy and hundreds of community members are taking towards sound local planning. The results sing out in the springtime and change colors in the fall, for all in the Valley to enjoy.

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Hiking the five villages of Italy's Cinque Terre
By Nicholas Ahlfs

What could be more inviting than a hiking trail called Via Delle Amore,The steep trails give you a postcard view of Vernazza “The Path of Love?” That’s what my wife Patti and I thought in June of 1990 when we set out on a day hike from Manarola to Riomaggiore. Little did we realize that the trail in Italy’s Cinque Terre should have been called “The Rocky Road of Love.”

The Cinque Terre, which literally means “the five lands,” is a chain of five villages cascading from a vertical landscape along the coast of the Ligurian Sea. The largest and most “townlike” is Monterosso al Mare, which sports the nicest and most accessible swimming beaches. Then as you head south comes Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore. For most of their histories, these remote villages were joined only by narrow, dirt trails. Then, one hundred years ago, a rail line was built, connecting them to the outside world. Until the early 1980s, this region was one of those “secret” out-of-the-way places visited mostly by northern Europeans. But then a young American travel writer named Rick Steves highlighted the region in his Europe Through the Back Door series. The sunny and picturesque Cinque Terre is now packed, especially during June, July, and August with travelers seeking to find the magic Steves first described 25 years ago.


Last summer found us on our fourth visit to Cinque Terre, and we have witnessed firsthand the evolving changes: higher prices for food and lodging, partly due to the introduction of the new euro currency; narrow streets now choked with travelers from around the globe; less attentive service; and hard-to-get rooms. For example, Vernazza, Rick Steves’ favorite, is still a beautiful village, but one that since we were first there in 1990, has lost some of its “charm” and innocence.

However, the charm was clearly evident in June 1990. We had arrived in Vernazza by local train, with a dog-eared Rick Steves travel guide tucked in our travel packs. Exiting the train station, we made our way up the hill to Pensione Sorriso, one of the few accommodation choices then. Our room was clean and tidy; and we actually found the communal bathroom very efficient — a miniature space with a side-by-side toilet and shower (sans shower curtain.) But more, from the shower, the view over the rooftops of Vernazza Colorful pottery adorns this small shop in Monterosso.and the sea in the distance was spectacular. Of course, I should mention that Pensione Sorriso was only a few hundred feet from the railroad tracks. During the night we were frequently reminded how loud trains can be, and how they can make a room shake and shudder. It was like having free vibrating beds in your room on the hour!
Despite the lack of “back home” conveniences, being in Vernazza was worth it. You could not help but be awed by the peaceful beauty of the village with its tiny harbor and piazza which is bordered by an ancient church; a haphazard collection of multihued buildings; clotheslines strung between balconies, adorned with colorful laundry; and the comings and goings of small fishing boats. And there were tiny markets packed with sweet-smelling peaches and tomatoes, and a variety of Italian cheeses of many fragrances; small trattorias scattered around the piazza serving Ligurian pesto and plates heaped with freshly caught seafood; a castle tower dominating the village; and, overriding it all, the slow pace of life.

We had, of course, carefully read Steves’ descriptions about the hiking trails which knit the villages together, and we were especially intrigued with the romantic-sounding Via Delle Amore. So clad in a T-shirt, shorts, and tennies — I wore tennis shoes so that the natives could tell me apart from the German tourists (that’s not true, of course, but the Germans did dress more formally, and only Americans seemed to wear tennis shoes) — we began our trek. Steves described it as “easy” but noted that a few sections of the trail were rough. He failed to mention the crudely constructed fenced barricade blocking the path to Riomaggiore. Since this was near the end of the trail, we ignored the warning sign that proclaimed in Italian that the trail was closed and too dangerous to use. We followed the lead of a young German couple ahead of us who had climbed up and around the board and barbed-wire barrier. With the other couple giving us a much appreciated hand, we struggled up and over, wishing that we had worn sturdier hiking shoes. Continuing on with the German couple, we found little danger, other than lots of debris and rocks that had dribbled down from the hills above. Step after rocky step . Just when you think you've reached the top, there are more!

However, when we arrived at the tunnel leading to Riomaggiore, we found it was in shambles, littered with rubble and covered with graffiti. Since I have a bad habit of complaining about anything in disrepair, I groused about the idiosyncratic Italian bureaucracy that would allow this beautiful scenic trail to deteriorate so badly. Of course, I grumbled about lots of other Italian oddities like the toilets that were essentially holes in the floor with a fancy porcelain covering with footprints to show you where to squat. Then there were the pay phones that seldom worked. The post office that only sold stamps at certain times of the day. The banks that cashed traveler’s checks only on particular days of the week. I would be remiss in not mentioning that Patti calls me “anal retentive” for always focusing on what needs to be fixed. I prefer to think of myself as one who pays attention to details.

But that was then. Now the phones work, the toilets are mostly the kind we’re used to, and ATM’s are ubiquitous. And the Via Delle Amore section of the trail is not a precarious adventure, it’s a 35-minute stroll where lovers can walk arm in arm, if they choose, and enjoy the breath-taking views along this stretch of the sea. The “trail” is now nicely paved with fitted slabs of rock, beautifully seamed together in typical Italian fashion. A modernistic metal gate with a pair of hearts greets strollers, and if things weren’t comfortable enough, there’s an espresso bar a few minutes from the walkway’s beginning. The derelict tunnel has been rebuilt to protect walkers from falling rock. As you depart the tunnel heading north, two lovers kissing, designed into a stylized simple chair, looks out over the shimmering waters of the Ligurian Sea.

The catalyst for the improvements was the creation of a new national park which now encompasses the entire Cinque Terre region. Riomaggiore, the headquarters for the park, has been spruced up with newly paved roads and walkways. Large signs advertise the “Parco Nazionale delle Cinque Terre,” and national park buses shuttle people from place to place. WPA-type murals adorn the new railway walls of Riomaggiore with heroic-looking workmen, well-muscled and tan, working diligently at their craft. All of this, I suspect, was done not only to protect the environment of the region, but also to promote tourism. And it does. Monterosso al Mare is the largest village and has the best swimming beaches

Because of the increased crowds in Monterosso and Vernazza, we chose Corniglia as our base for hiking. It’s a picturesque village on a bench high above the sea waters. Although Corniglia hasn’t been as dramatically affected by tourism as the other villages, changes are evident there, too.
However, no matter which of the villages you choose as your home base, you are only minutes away from all five because of frequent and cheap rail service. Of course, those who choose to travel by car to the Cinque Terre can access the region by a new highway. But this mode of transportation is really less convenient because of a lack of parking and narrow village streets. I prefer the train and “by foot” method. In addition to the trail that follows the coastline, there are other trails that go high above the villages. The coastal path, which we chose to hike, is the most popular since it goes directly from village to village. It is possible to hike the entire trail in about six hours. However, I encourage you to take more time, as we did, so you can leisurely explore each of the villages. I also recommend that you hike from south to north in the direction from Riomaggiore to Monterosso. The sun is at your back, and you avoid the punishing climb out of Monterosso.

On this most recent visit, equipped with sturdy trail shoes, we hiked the trails on three separate days in random order. Our first morning out, we hiked from Corniglia to Vernazza. The second day we took the train to Riomaggiore and then hiked from there to Manarola, and on to Corniglia. On the final day, an early morning train ride from Corniglia to Vernazza, a quick cappuccino in the piazza, and it was time to complete the coastal trail from Vernazza to Monterosso.

Each section of the trail varies somewhat as far as difficulty. From Corniglia to Vernazza, the path leaves Corniglia and climbs steeply through vineyards and olive trees until it levels out after about 20 minutes. By then you realize that the cautionary signs at the beginning of the path should be heeded. The sign pictures a woman’s high heel shoe with a diagonal red line through it. Now, I didn’t see women in spikey high heels like the sign portrayed, but there were many “hikers” who wore beach flip-flops, dressy loafers, and, yes, even medium height high heels. Puzzling to me, some also wore clothing meant more for dining out than hiking. And it was hot — the summer of 2003 set heat records throughout Europe. Most people, however, did dress wisely. A good thing. I didn’t actually count the steps that lead one up and down on the trail, but between Corniglia and Vernazza and Monterosso there must be, conservatively speaking about 23,000. OK, maybe not quite that many, but I did find myself mumbling, “Good, I’ve reached the top,” only to walk a few feet and start climbing again.

Regardless of the steps, the trail between Corniglia and Vernazza is stunningly magnificent, and would be my pick if you could only hike one segment. The view back to Corniglia is magical: crayon-colored box-like structures, dominated by the church of San Pietro, all perched on an out-cropping of rocks. And then looking ahead towards Vernazza, you see a meandering coastline, terraced, lush and green, defined by the deep prussian-blue waters of the sea, which is itself dotted with small boats slicing the water, leaving white wakes behind them. As you stop to rest under a grove of olive trees, you can’t help but wonder about the people who have lived here since pre-Roman times, living mainly off the produce they grow on the terraced hillsides and the seafood harvested from their small boats.Corniglia offers a slower paced alternative to the heavily touristed Vernazza.

Approaching Vernazza, you leave the shelter of the trees and follow the edge of the coast, although you are still hundreds of feet above the sea. The last mile or so is mostly a steep descent with the inevitable steps. But near the end, as you wend your way through the tightly packed houses and apartments, you can faintly hear the din of the village. And soon you come out to Vernazza’s harbor piazza. It is magical. It is as though a genie placed you in the middle of a new world, enveloped by crowds of people — talking, gawking, eating lunch, drinking wine, eating gelato. And after a hot hike, it’s a pleasant relief to walk out onto the jetty, take off your shoes, and dip your feet into the cool water. Then, of course, you need to deal with your parched throat — after all, you’ve trekked for two hours on a hot, dusty trail. So there’s nothing better than a fine cool bottle of Moretti beer, Italy’s finest, at least in my humble opinion.

Our second day on the trail began after a leisurely breakfast in Corniglia’s small, but lively, piazza. Rather than taking the meandering road down to the train station, we decided to take a shortcut down the hill. Descending the 377 steps to the station, we headed south for Riomaggiore on the train. After an hour of exploring the various shops, we purchased two litres of aqua minerale frizzante and headed for Manarola on the Via Delle Amore. The trail begins here with a series of steps that take you up and away from the village, but then surprisingly level out and widen, an invitation to linger and savor the magnificent panorama. Manarola is blessed with a huge seawall that shelters a miniscule harbor with huge rocks and deep water that attract young divers. Continuing our journey north, we ventured on to Corniglia and the prospect of a well-deserved siesta. Although this section of the path is mostly level, the afternoon sun mercilessly baked the trail — no trees to shelter weary hikers.

On the third day, I took the final leg of the journey from Vernazza to Monterosso alone, because my partner, having traveled that way before, chose to stay behind in Corniglia. This trail in many ways is the most deceptive. As you leave Vernazza, you weave your way between stone buildings and onto a fairly well-maintained path. This path ascends quickly through well-manicured terraced vineyards, until you arrive at a promontory overlooking Vernazza from the north. This is the scene that all the guidebooks and travel articles use. It’s a scene of an Italy we’d all like to retire to: relaxing on our villa balcony sipping a beverage of choice, reading a fine book. With no phone, no fax, no computer, no troubles, you just sit and enjoy what the Italians call the “Il dolce far niente,” or the sweetness of doing nothing.

That fantasy vanishes quickly as the climbing begins again. Step after step. It was exhausting, for I had chosen one of the hottest days of our trip to Italy to hike the last leg of the coastal trail. Soon my T-shirt was sopping wet and I was sweating like the proverbial pig, climbing what seemed like another thousand rock and stone “steps” on the trail to Monterosso. After wondering whether or not I should throw myself into the cool waters three hundred feet below, or just rest and drink some water, I sat down to dry off. An old man — one of the farmers who sells goods to travelers trekking from village to village — came down the trail. After we exchanged the obligatory “buon giorno’s,” he pointed to the lemons heaped in his basket, which he wanted me to purchase. Even though they looked beautiful — all large, deep yellow, and unblemished — I resisted. The thought of sticking a half dozen lemons in my shorts had no appeal, so I smiled and shook my head saying, “No, grazie.” I then motioned a request to take his photo with the lemons. In Italian and gestures, he said only if I bought lemons. Like a fool, I declined, passing up this once-in-a-lifetime photo opportunity. Perhaps the sun had baked my brain.

The next leg of the trail looks deceivingly easy, descending into what you think must be the end of the trail. Wrong. It then levels out and you continue until you catch glimpses of the village of Monterosso. Now Monterosso is the real tourist town of Cinque Terre. This is where you’ll find a few luxury hotels mixed with pensiones, great beaches, markets, lots of shops, and, sure enough, it’s packed with people.

Because Monterosso is the largest village with the most visitors, it is not unusual to see herds of people ascending the trail out of Monterosso, unaware of the terrain that lays before them. I did meet what I would have to call the most foolish of day hikers headed to Vernazza in the heat of the day. I described the last leg of the journey as deceptive. Here’s why: After you are convinced that the trail will simply go on its merry way and come out on some beautiful beach front, you face the reality. The level part of the trail is poorly maintained. There are washed out parts, but not to worry. If you fell off the path, it would be into brambles, not to oblivion. Then you start down. These steps — and no fooling this time, there are several hundred — are steep and narrow. I did move aside for panting parties of trail walkers coming from Monterosso on their way to Vernazza, and I worked hard to resist the urge to shout, “Go back, you fools!”

In spite of the growing popularity of the region, the trails linking the five villages of the Cinque Terre have to be the most memorable in my experience, and I would encourage anyone to go. The scenery, the charm of the Italians, the fine food and the local wine are all worth whatever sweat you may have to shed to get to this idyllic region. If you go, try for April or May, when you’ll find fewer throngs of tourists. And, unless you really want to stay in a beachfront hotel, I would recommend the more modest accommodations of Corniglia. Some are listed on the informative Cinque Terre’s website: www.5terre.it. Other websites worth visiting are www.cinqueterreonline.com & www.parconazionale5terre.it.

I can enthusiastically recommend a few “don’t miss” establishments in Corniglia. For your early morning wake- up drink, visit Bar Matteo in the heart of the village. Sit in the morning sun surrounded by giant trees, picturesque buildings, the sounds of the shopkeepers setting up for the day, and the calling of the gulls. Enjoy a cappuccino with a pastry while you watch the village come alive. For your late afternoon repast, visit Wine Bar Terra Rossa, and have a glass of the region’s fine white wine. You’ll also be given tarallini, a cracker treat from southern Italy’s Puglia.

For some of the best and most affordable food you’ll eat anywhere in Italy, try “A Cantina de Mananan,” which is just a few doors down from Bar Matteo. Reservations are a must. Not only is it a small establishment– maybe eight tables in all– this osteria is highly recommended by the locals. Be prepared to stay late. Service starts at 8:00 PM, and the table is yours for the evening. The menu, hand-written on giant chalk boards, is extensive, especially in the regional seafood specialties. Bring your Italian menu dictionary to help translate all the choices. If you love Italian food at its best, a night at this osteria is one you’ll not soon forget.

Nor will you forget the Via Delle Amore or the other trails in this magical paradise. And, if anyone tells you that the trail of love is a rocky one, you can honestly tell them that they are wrong. It’s now a smooth, beautifully paved pathway, with a chair with two lovers overlooking a romantic sea.


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Bringing women into the vertical world
by Ann McCreary

Anne Keller grew up with a view of snowcapped Mount Rainier through the bedroom window of her home in Puyallup, and she’s kept mountains in sight ever since. As a child, she always felt drawn to the mountains. She remembers dreaming of someday visiting the Alps. She took her first job at The Paradise Inn on Mount Rainier. While working there, she was invited to join in a trip up the mountain.Anne Keller cragging up the Chewuch

“I climbed Mount Rainier for the first time when I was 17, and it was a pivotal point in my life,” Keller says. “It gave me tremendous confidence in many other aspects of my life.”

In the 18 years since that first climb, Keller has taken every possible opportunity to head to the high country. She worked as a guide for six years, primarily for Rainier Mountaineering, becoming a senior guide with 40 successful ascents of Mount Rainier.

She settled in the Methow Valley about seven years ago with her husband, internationally known alpine climber Steve House. They were attracted to the Valley by the superb mountaineering opportunities in the surrounding North Cascades Mountains.

Two summers ago, Keller decided to share her passion for climbing with other women, and founded her own mountaineering school for women. Keller wanted to focus on women because her experience as a guide made her believe that women would appreciate more opportunities to explore the vertical world together.

“While some guide services were toying with doing women’s trips, no one was going after that as a goal. And when they did offer women’s trips, there was nothing that changed about them, other than having a female guide,” Keller says.

Female guides have been far outnumbered by men in the climbing world. Among the 60 guides at Rainier Mountaineering when Keller worked there, only five were women. And, she notes, there is only one internationally certified woman guide in the United States.

The male dominance in climbing may be shifting, Keller believes, and through her women’s trips, she is working to encourage women of all ages and abilities to venture into the mountains. Keller’s programs are affiliated with North Cascades Mountain Guides, headquartered in Mazama. During the first two years, Keller operated under the name “The Alpine Finishing School for Ladies.”

Her mission is to provide her students with skills and the confidence to use them. “My goal is to foster a feeling of competence, and to make women feel like they can go out into the mountains, they can problem solve and work things through, and have a really good outing.” Her approach is “safety first, fun second.”

The “fun” part comes naturally on the outings, Keller says. “There are some really positive things that happen on an all-women’s trip. The biggest thing is camaraderie.”Terry Karro on top of Liberty Bell Spire "after 50 years of looking"

The sense of camaraderie develops among participants as they face new challenges together, Keller says. “It seems women have slightly different ways of solving problems than men, coming to consensus and making decisions. When we’re making decisions in the back country, it seems like everyone stops and talks about it, and makes sure everyone feels comfortable before going on.”

Keller offers trips for women from beginner to expert, in all types of mountain terrain—snow, rock, ice and glaciers. Many of her clients are beginners and intermediates who want to learn mountaineering skills, but don’t feel confident about going out with other people. Keller talks with her students to learn about their objectives, their level of fitness, and their needs. She makes sure they are outfitted with equipment that is appropriate for the female physique.

Once in the mountains, Keller emphasizes teaching her students how to recognize hazards, such as rockfalls and avalanche potential.

“Knowing what’s above you in the mountains is critical,” Keller says. “It takes some experience to know how to read the terrain. When we’re out, I share my decision-making process with them. I want them to realize how and why I chose one way, rather than another way.”
Keller, who has trained with the American Institute for Avalanche Research and Education, offers basic avalanche courses and more advanced rescue courses during the winter. In spring, Keller leads backcountry ski excursions at Washington Pass, which she says provides a perfect place for touring. The growing popularity of alpine touring equipment, which allows a free heel for the ascent and a locked heel for the descent, is making the backcountry more accessible to intermediate and advanced skiers, Keller says.

Working with North Cascades Heli Skiing, for which she guides during the winter, Keller also offers women’s ski trips into the backcountry by helicopter. Summer excursions include rock climbing classes and multi-day mountaineering trips in the Cascades. She’s particularly fond of ski mountaineering on Mt. Shuksan, which offers skiing on glaciers to ascend the peak and rock climbing at the summit. “It’s a great mountain for training. It has beginner to advanced terrain.”
For rock climbers, Keller often takes beginners to Fun Rock in Mazama for a two-day course focusing on the basics, including harness fitting, knots, terminology and communicating with partners, belaying, lowering, rappelling, and movement skills. Intermediate climbers learn how to accomplish a multi-pitch climb on the Washington Pass spires.

Trips usually include up to four students, although on more difficult outings she may reduce the number to two students.

Keller has also devised specialized trips, including a Mother’s Day outing in which moms climb free with their daughters. And, remembering how her first climb changed her life, Keller says she plans to develop trips for teens. “It’s a great way to foster confidence in young women.”

To learn more about Anne's Alpine Finishing School for Ladies visit their website: http://www.ncmountainguides.com/women/women.html


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For energy and endurance don't cut out the carbs
By Joy Blakeslee

Are you gearing up for a day of hiking in the Cascades or perhaps a long trail run or bike ride? For the endurance required for sustained physical activities like these, don’t forget to include carbohydrate-containing foods as part of your balanced diet. Both the American College of Sports Medicine and the American Dietetic Association recommend active individuals eat 3-5 grams of carbohydrates (3 if you are not very active and 5 if you are extremely active) per pound every day.

Complex carbohydrate foods such as whole grains, fruits and vegetables along with moderated amounts of more simple carbs are important fuel sources for an active life. Eating these foods gives us energy, increases endurance and performance, and keeps us alert and focused so we can enjoy the scenery around us. Carbohydrates are also the key to post exercise recovery, allowing us to go out and enjoy ourselves the next day.

Although “low-carb” diets may be all the rage, restricting carbohydrates can leave active people without power, strength and endurance. This is because the body converts the carbohydrates we eat into an energy source called glycogen. Glycogen is stored in the muscles and liver where, between meals and during exercise, it can be converted quickly into energy. Liver glycogen maintains blood sugar levels, “feeding” our brains, and muscle glycogen is used directly by muscle cells as the energy needed for movement. Without dietary carbohydrates, these functions will not occur at an optimal level.

The average physically fit adult stores about 1,500 calories worth of potential energy as muscle glycogen. Both increased fitness levels and a carbohydrate-rich diet can maximize these energy stores. Our glycogen storage capacity actually increases as we become more fit, and this is a major reason endurance levels increase with training. Studies have shown that athletes eating carbohydrate-rich diets have significantly more endurance then athletes on a diet that restricts carbohydrates. These studies also showed people on “low-carb” diets had a higher level of perceived exertion, meaning not only could they not go as far or as long, but it hurt more. too!
Eating snacks containing carbohydrates, or “sports foods” such as energy bars, gels and drinks during exercise increases endurance and performance. Two to three hours of hard aerobic exercise can deplete your glycogen stores. If you have ever “bonked” or “hit the wall” you know what this feels like. These “sports foods” contain sugar and relatively simple carbohydrates that, when taken with water, are quickly digested and absorbed and provide our muscles with immediate energy. Eating between 30 to 60 grams of carbohydrates every hour during endurance exercise can “spare” your glycogen stores, extending endurance.

Of course, fat is also burned during aerobic exercise, and most of us have plenty of this stored fuel source. The average adult may carry over 100,000 calories worth of potential energy in their fat cells! It would be great if we could burn fat as our primary fuel, but unfortunately, this is not the case. Increased fitness does allow us to burn more fat, but fat alone cannot keep us going indefinitely. In fact, to burn fat effectively a constant supply of carbohydrates is needed. This is why we must stop, refuel, rest and recover before we can keep going. This brings us to the subject of post exercise recovery.

Eating carbohydrate-containing foods is absolutely essential for post exercise recovery. The “dead legged” feeling that can occur after a day of heavy exercise is partially due to glycogen depletion. During the first hour after exercise there is a “window of opportunity” when carbohydrates are very efficiently converted into glycogen. By eating at least .6 grams of carbohydrates per pound of body weight right after exercise, you can optimize muscle glycogen reloading. Foods that contain carbohydrates and small amounts of protein works well for this purpose. This refueling is not important after short moderate exercise, but is essential after races and endurance exercise, or if back-to-back days of hard activity are planned.

So remember, for optimal performance and endurance eat a balanced diet containing 55%- 65% of calories from carbohydrates. Focus on eating “nutrient rich” complex carbohydrate foods like whole grains, fruits and veggies. Many of these foods are great sources of fiber, minerals and the vitamins essential to convert food into energy. Moderate your intake of highly refined carbohydrates, like white bread, processed snacks, soda, and candy as these “nutrient poor” foods tend to be filled with hidden trans-fats and are high in “empty” calories. You will find that giving your body the right fuel and maintaining a smart training plan will help add to your enjoyment and your endurance.

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Walking England's Cotswold Way
By Laura Fine Morrison

When a longtime friend decided to mark her 50th birthday last summer with a 104-mile walk along the Cotswold Way in England, I gladly accepted an invitation to join in the celebration. For twelve days our group of four women, friends for more than 20 years, explored beautiful country and enjoyed British hospitality and history along the Cotswold Way.A common site in the Cotswolds is the flowered cottage built of honey-colored stone

In England a “way,” much like our local sports trails, meanders over private and public lands, without so much as a grumpy farmer or “no trespassing” sign to offend. Free passage is a sometimes mythical and always splendid thing.

Our trip began with three days in London, where we caught a show (“Chicago”), visited the National Portrait Gallery, Buckingham Palace and Harrods Department Store (a must).
I was charmed and amazed by the British civility, their love of their Royals (alive and dead) and the fact that they actually do greet the world with a lilting, “Cheerio!” My cultural compass set; I was ready for on-trail adventure.

The Cotswold Way starts close to Shakespeare’s Stratford-on-Avon. Traveling with tickets purchased over the Internet from home, we arrived at the London station in a classic, black English cab. We journeyed to Stratford by bus. Our bus driver, Amelia, was fervent in her departure speech: “I love my life and I love it bad! Our mission is to arrive safely, not to worry, we WILL arrive.”

As she careened around curves, with a notable lead foot, we repeated her promise like a mantra. “We love our life and we love it bad, not to worry, we WILL arrive.” And so we did, but not without a few more well chosen words of wisdom from our eloquent chauffeur. “Ladies and gentlemen, I must insist that you double check, triple check, quadruple check for all belongings, and do have yourselves a nice day!”

Stratford, famous in its own right, elevated the words, “cute” and “picturesque” to new prominence in our travel vocabulary, as we drove through its narrow streets to a lunchtime reunion with an old friend. She and her two corgis (what is it with the English and these little dogs?) graciously escorted us to the official start of the Cotswold Way in the even cuter and more picturesque village, Chipping Camden. This would be the first of a series of village names that would twist our tongues and embellish the Cotswold experience with curious alliterations.
The region in England known as the Cotswolds is situated northwest of London, not far from the Severn Estuary. It is an area of gentle hills and valleys, ancient villages made entirely of the local, yellow-hued limestone. Four thousand years of history – almost more than we North Americans can fathom – have left their mark on what is often referred to as the “quintessential English region.” Small stone churches grace many of the Cotswold villages.

The Cotswold Way was designated a “local distance footpath” in 1970, and by 1998 was deemed a National Trail. The British are great walkers and their countryside is covered with ways, public bridle trails and footpaths. Almost all of these paths can be found on boundary maps and are well marked with small round insignia that feature promising colored arrows.

Well-crafted turnstiles and roundabouts, sponsored by local merchants, add another touch of that British civility that I noticed early on in my visit and was coming to count on. What none of us counted on, however, was losing our/the “WAY” our very first afternoon out, and five meandering miles from Chipping Camden to Broadway turned into a grueling, bushwhacking, ten.

Let me say right off, that this “walk through the countryside” was clearly a hike in sheep’s clothing. No matter that we missed the historic Broadway Tower, we staggered into Broadway and our first night’s accommodation gratefully and with a powerful thirst, mindful of each and every pub we passed. After an adequate pub dinner and the requisite pint (or two, in some cases), we fell gratefully into bed, vowing to walk smart and keep our eyes pealed for those scout badge-sized trail markers in the days ahead.

Broadway to Winchcombe, our second stop, was a respectable distance. So, after negotiating the necessary luggage transfer with our innkeeper (which we did at each stop), we sat down with great appetite to our first, of many, full English breakfasts. Imagine eggs, bangers (sausages, of sorts), bacon, fried tomatoes, whole mushrooms, very dry, white toast, an assortment of dry cereal and occasionally mush. Tea is de rigueur and coffee, if you must, is instant and delivered in little straw-like tubes. Laura's hiking partner poses in front of an English tudor-style home that is probably older than the Declaration of Independence.

Thus fortified each morning, we headed into our Cotswold days down paths and through meadows that offered up sheep, too numerable to count, over hills to places like Cheltenham, Burton-on-the-Water, Painswick, King Stanley, and Wotton-under-Edge. Villages we missed, but bear considering, are both Upper and Lower Slaughter. (I’ll leave it to your imagination what might have inspired such names.) Some days, we all walked, some days there was fallout, sightseeing and recuperative downtime taken by half the party. I should note that most villages have a few circular trail systems surrounding them, and it is quite popular to choose a favorite locale and walk a bit, eat some, drink much and shop, as the day lengthens into night.

No trip is complete without points of historical interest to photograph earnestly. The Cotswolds are dotted with archeological sites referred to locally as fairy hills, barrows or tumps. Belas Knap, in the Winchcombe area, dating from 2000 B.C., was on our route and praised as a great example. It is distinguished by its length of 178 feet and false entrance formed by meticulous and uniform dry stone walls. Its four internal chambers yielded 38 bodies to early excavators and as many theories as to its true purpose. Personally, my favorite was “Hetty Pigler’s Tump,” which is distinguished by very little other than its fanciful name. Perhaps I remember it fondly because finding “Hetty” was followed by a celebratory pint referred to as “Old Spot” at the Uley Brewery. One hundred and four miles yields many stories and memories worthy of a 50th birthday celebration.

If a Cotswold walk calls your name, whatever the occasion, there are only a few tips you’ll need prior to being on your way. Web sites at www.cotswolds-calling.com and www.cotswolds.info offer a plethora of useful information. A bit of advice from a member of our group: “Watch out for the sheep dip.” (She means the kind you step in!) And I say, with total confidence after a fortnight in Britain, “Cheerio, and have a lovely walk.”

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