For the second year in a row, 49 Degrees North Mountain Resort is partnering with three local elementary schools to offer fourth- and fifth-grade students the chance to learn to ski or snowboard. The program, Corey’s Run FIRST TRACKS Ski Academy, was established by David Zalewski, father to Corey, who passed away after being caught in an avalanche in the Idaho Panhandle backcountry in January 2024. 

Around the first anniversary of Corey’s passing, Zalewski had an idea. “I was thinking of some way to honor Corey’s legacy and the things he enjoyed in life,” he says. What Corey loved most was being outdoors. Zalewski remembers the year Corey received his first season pass to Snoqualmie—a winter that brought little snow. Undeterred, Corey convinced his father to drive him to the mountain anyway. For hours, Corey hiked up the hillside, snowboard in hand, just to make that thrilling ride downhill. He carried that insatiable spirit throughout his life, jumping into everything with “both feet,” Zalewski recalls. 

Through Corey’s FIRST TRACKS, students who might not otherwise have the opportunity spend three consecutive Fridays at 49 Degrees North. They leave school shortly after lunch and spend the afternoon on the mountain, with lift tickets, lessons and rentals provided at no cost. The program is designed for beginner skiers and snowboarders, allowing students to build confidence over several weeks rather than through a single-day experience. The resort even keeps the lifts running an extra half hour for participants. 

Henry Holub, one of the instructors involved, says the program’s goals are multifaceted. The first is to honor Corey’s legacy by passing along his love of the outdoors. The second is to create lifelong skiers and snowboarders. Many participating families lack the resources to take their children skiing, with cost and transportation presenting the greatest barriers. Programs like Corey’s FIRST TRACKS offer more than a lesson—they provide an entry into a way of life. 

Holub, who also works as a substitute teacher in Spokane and serves as a PTO president at one of the participating schools, has seen the program’s effects extend beyond the slopes. Students ask if they will be able to ski again, and many families report returning to the mountain together after the program ends. School staff have also noted increased confidence and stronger peer connections, describing the experience as a powerful team-building opportunity. 

Ali Pasino, 49 Degrees North’s snowsports school director, believes outdoor recreation fosters freedom and self-reliance, particularly for youth from more urban environments. With more than twenty years of experience guiding and coaching, Pasino has seen how challenging outdoor settings can transform young people. “If you can conquer a mountain,” Pasino says, “you can conquer anything.” She believes the natural world teaches resilience in ways few other environments can. “The world convinces us in countless ways that we can’t do things. I relish every time someone learns that they can succeed.” 

Zalewski, Holub and Pasino hope to see the program continue to grow. Last year, 44 students participated. With the addition of a third elementary school, that number could exceed one hundred. While Zalewski privately funds student lessons, transportation remains a challenge. Community members can help by supporting transportation costs or providing snacks for students on their way home. Holub also hopes participants will continue into opportunities such as the mountain’s Junior Instructor Program. 

As Corey’s skills grew, backcountry skiing became his true passion, Zalewski recalls about his son. “Any day with snow was a good day.” For Zalewski, it’s more than holding onto Corey’s legacy. “It’s about giving young people, young kids, the opportunity to experience all the beauty and adventure of being on the mountain. Being able to encounter and share in the wonders of god’s creativity, his creation. There was no place Corey would rather be than floating downhill on freshly fallen champagne powder snow making those FIRST TRACKS of the day.” Corey wouldn’t have it any other way.

The post Honoring a Mountain Legacy at 49 Degrees North  appeared first on Out There Venture.

By Bri Loveall 

Cover photo courtesy of Bri Loveall

Here’s how I learned to ski: when I was 10, I took a weeklong ski class. Five years later, I told my best friend I was good enough to ski with her family. I wasn’t. I spent the next few years trailing (and falling) behind my friend, trying to match her fluid movements as she expertly planted around moguls and glided in between trees. I learned to ski by doing, and 20 years later, think of myself as an advanced rider; I can easily navigate black diamond runs, and, if the conditions are right (read: extra soft and fluffy), can manage double black diamonds.  

In my mind, lessons and clinics were for people who had never skied or needed a refresher. So last winter when I had the opportunity to participate in the Mt. Spokane ladies ski clinic, aside from a glorious day of skiing without my children, I wasn’t sure what to expect.   

Any lingering doubts I had dissipated the moment I stepped into the Mt. Spokane “garage.” Women arrived by the dozens, stomping boots and chatting excitedly, stopping by heavily loaded tables to grab coffee, pastries and fruit. The energy was infectious. Sunlight shone through the large windows and the day promised to be warm and bright.  

After quick introductory remarks were made, everyone clambered outside for a brief warm-up stretch, which mostly consisted of laughter and accidentally bumping into one’s neighbor.  

I had assigned myself to the advanced group, and my instructor—the former Mt. Spokane Ski School director—was an older woman named Maxine. She was a force, the type of woman whose voice carried down the hill. Our small group of women, about eight in all, rode to the top of chair three and awaited her instructions. After a brief conversation about what we hoped to work on (most of us said “form”), Maxine asked each of us in the group to ski one at a time so she could assess and give us feedback.  

“It is not enough to make it to the bottom of the hill if you can’t do it safely,” she said after watching the whole group. I hadn’t considered that before. Just because I could navigate harder runs didn’t automatically make me a good skier. What I really wanted was the ability to keep skiing well into an older age; something that couldn’t happen if I didn’t spend the energy practicing better (and safer) form.   

When Maxine asked us what our ski poles were for, we all looked around at each other. I actually had no idea. I knew they were supposed to involve planting and turning, but I honestly held onto them like they were emotional support sticks. It was one more thing I hadn’t realized I was hungry to know. We spent the morning following Maxine like a line of baby ducklings following their mother, while she shouted at us to bend our knees and rotate our torsos so we faced downhill.  

At lunch, the entire clinic met back at the garage for pasta and sandwiches. Raffles were held and guests won snowboards, helmets, skis, lift tickets and other sweet prizes. The women at my table, all total strangers to me, gushed as several of us won prizes. We found a camaraderie together simply for our love of skiing, something I hadn’t realized I was missing.  

As the day moved on, I heard many women speaking of their families. “This is the first time I’ve skied without my kids this season,” I overheard one woman say to another. It seemed to be true for a lot of women. I heard statements like, “I feel like a new person,” and “I’ve never felt like a part of a team until today.” 

It wasn’t that this type of environment couldn’t happen in a regular coed lesson. But there is something unique about the way that women relate to other women. All day I watched as participants shared their struggles with one another: from navigating a complicated run or slushy snow to navigating relationships with children, parents, friends and spouses.  

Who has not heard the phrase “You cannot pour from an empty cup”? But women especially know this is not true; you can and will continue to give even when you’re running on empty. Women’s clinics are about more than just a daylong ski lesson. They are about finding a place in the ski community to build a confidence that spills over from the mountain slopes to our everyday lives.  

Find more information and sign up for this awesome event here.

Bri Loveall lives in the Inland Northwest with her family, a growing pile of mismatched ski gloves, and a deep appreciation for well-timed snacks. 

The post More Than a Lesson  appeared first on Out There Venture.

By Bri Loveall 

Cover photo courtesy of Bri Loveall

Before teaching my kids to ski, I received a lot of really helpful advice: private lessons, ski school, hula hoops instead of ski harnesses, and even recruiting a grandparent. Last fall, we finally committed and rented season-long skis and boots from our favorite ski shop. The day after Thanksgiving, I packed a bag with more snacks than seemed necessary, loaded the gear into the car, and drove the kids up to the mountain for our first day on the snow.  

By then my children had taken about three lessons (which they seemed to forget the moment they clicked into their skis). I envisioned watching them glide down the bunny hill, laughing and waving as they tipped and then righted themselves. Instead, I found myself chasing after my older child, certain she’d run into someone. My youngest child managed to do a single run (while I held him up) before deciding he’d rather play in the snow instead. 

It’s fine, I told myself. It’s only the first day. As the season progressed, my commitment deepened; we were going to be a ski family and the outdoors would be our teacher. 

So much of what we teach our children is physical—how to tie shoes, tidy a room, catch a ball—that we forget what we are really teaching them is resilience. How to keep going even when they are uncomfortable, even when they fail and fall, when they’re cold and bored and tired. We are teaching them to embrace discomfort.  

Frequently, as a parent, I recognize within myself a limited tolerance for discomfort. The second my children begin whining (a normal childhood behavior that’s actually indicative of healthy emotional maturation), I think I’m causing some irreversible damage to their premature egos, and I want to quit. Children learn best when environments are fun and relaxed, when big tasks are broken down into small ones and when snacks are plentiful. But that doesn’t mean the learning is easy. And last season I learned that there is an art to discomfort.  

Crammed into our car (we have yet to invest in ski racks) with gear wedged into every nook and cranny, each weekend we made the trek up the mountain while the kids bickered in the back seat. It was hot, it was cold, their legs were sore. They were hungry, they were tired, they’d rather be home watching a show.  

In the parking lot, the wind whipped through the open doors and they shouted and shoved at each other as they all tried to dress in the same limited space. And we hadn’t even reached the worst part—ski boots. “You’re breaking my foot!” my youngest hollered, as other ski-ready families walked past. My own fingers were halfway frozen, struggling to hold my son’s boot open while I patiently coaxed him to shove his foot in.  

Once dressed, we still faced the walk from the car to the lift. “Here, kids, carry your own helmets, OK?” I’d say in my best Julie Andrews voice, stuffing extra gear and snacks into my backpack before grabbing their skis (and mine). “It’s too heavy. It’s too cold. It’s hard to walk in boots,” they groaned, lagging behind me. By the time we reached the bunny hill for lessons, I was ready to pass off my children to the instructors and find any excuse to escape into the lodge, where I could try to regain my Julie Andrews voice. 

All of us have a threshold for being uncomfortable, and yet we rarely think of it as a muscle that also needs to be stretched and strengthened. Because, let’s be honest, some days the skiing (or the hiking, camping, swimming, biking) just sucks. The weather is too cold or too hot, too wet or too smoky, and our kids are tired and we’re tired and no one—I mean no one—is having fun. I might argue that those moments are the most important in developing a lifelong commitment to the pursuit of ​​adventure.  

The advice I would give to parents is this: acknowledge the sensations your child is experiencing (cold, wet, fatigue, boredom) and then encourage them to keep going. When we mirror a tempered version of our child’s emotions, we validate them, and in doing so, create a safe space for them to practice navigating their discomfort.  

One Saturday last year, my youngest had a full-on meltdown in the middle of the crowded lodge. While onlookers tried not to stare as I began gathering our wet hats, lunch trash and helmets, one mom at the table nearest to me met my eye. “It gets better,” she said, gesturing to the teens situated around her. “Eventually, they learn to love it.”  

The post The Art of Discomfort  appeared first on Out There Venture.

When Schweitzer snowcat operator Sabrina started at Ski Santa Fe almost 30 years ago, she had no idea she was stepping into what would become her lifelong career. After working at the New Mexico resort in the rental shop and later as a lift-operator, Sabrina remembers seeing the big snowcats moving around the mountain and thinking, “Yeah, that’s what I want to do.”  

Now, after 28 years working at multiple mountains across the country, Sabrina has spent the last nine years running a winch cat at Schweitzer. Her favorite part of the job? Watching the trails change throughout the course of the season. “You’re creating a product for people to ski on,” Sabrina said. Each day is a fresh opportunity to continue to shape the mountain. And even though snowcat operators work behind the scenes, Sabrina said she loves looking at trails from the top of a chair lift and thinking, “I did that.”  

The snowcat operators at Schweitzer (many of whom have been there as long or longer than Sabrina) are committed to keeping each other safe as they maintain and groom trails. While each groomer operates their own machine, they work together when conditions are tough, often bailing each other out if their cats get stuck or break down. Even though the job itself requires the operators to work independently, there’s a camaraderie amongst the crew.  

“You have to have a passion for this job,” Sabrina told me. With the late hours, seasonal work, and the amount of time spent alone in a snowcat, operators who stick around the longest are those who love the lifestyle. “You can’t make a good product if you don’t have a passion for skiing or boarding,” she explained. Many of the teams she’s worked with over her career were all avid or former skiers or snowboarders. That love of the lifestyle is part of what unites them and helps them excel in their work.  

At the end of a shift, Sabrina feels most successful when she knows she’s maintained a trail so others can go and safely ride. Even though she’s been at this for almost 30 years, she admits that every season she learns something new. There’s something about the job—the moose plowing their own trails through deep snow or the fresh tracks of mountain lions, the friendly banter over their two-way radios throughout a long shift, being the first person to watch the sun kiss the mountaintop, going where few people ever get to go, or that freshly laid corduroy—that keeps the operators coming back season after season. (Bri Loveall)  

The post Mountain Maker: One Snowcat Operator’s Story  appeared first on Out There Venture.

Cover photo courtesy of Bri Loveall

One cold, snowy morning last winter, I woke hours before the mountains would transform into a kaleidoscope of pinks and blues, more commonly known as alpenglow, and made my way to the base of Lookout Pass to join the snowcat operators for a morning of work.  

That early morning, the lights from the snowcats were like beacons in a vast ocean of night. Brian Rosser, general manager of Lookout Pass, ushered me into one of the five cats Lookout Pass normally operates, a spacious, well-heated cab with plenty of leg room and a whole dashboard of complicated-looking switches, levers, knobs and controls. 

At its core, snowcat operators, or groomers, have the incredible task of mechanically manipulating snow to maintain ski slopes for efficiency, safety and fun. They are the unsung heroes of the mountain, and, as Rosser informed me, snow grooming is a lot like housework; you only notice it when it isn’t done.  

Recreational skiing in the U.S. has only been around for the last 150 years, with the earliest ski resort opening in Colorado in 1915. As resorts opened and recreational skiing took off, resort owners quickly realized they needed some way to shape and maintain the slopes. Some of the earliest grooming was the responsibility of ski patrollers who would either boot or shovel pack the snow to form smoother runs. But it wasn’t until the 1950s that an invention would change the way ski resorts handled slope maintenance. 

The Bradley Packer-Grader was the creation of the executive director of Utah’s Winter Park Resort, Steve Bradley. An adjustable blade at the top of the contraption sliced the tops off moguls while a slat roller followed closely behind, turning and flattening the snow. The only catch? The device weighed several hundred pounds (some sources say as many as 700) and was operated by skiers in the front. Bradley’s fleet of groomers became the evolutionary step in the automation of the modern-day snowcat.  

Military and expeditionary units had been in the process of designing over-snow vehicles for decades. By the 1960s, early snowcats were pulling Packer-Graders, rollers and other DIY contraptions to manage and maintain the snowy slopes. Today’s snowcats are precision instruments that can cut through ice, reshape trails, create those beautiful corduroy lines we all love, and handle the steep inclines of the mountain thanks to their low center of gravity.  

By the time the first lifts start running, the snowcat operators’ work is done for the day. Operators like Rosser and his team ensure that each skier’s experience is safe, consistent and exciting. The next time you glide down a perfectly groomed run, give a shout-out to the groomers who are doing the night work to make sure the memories happen.  

The post Snow Cat Operators: The Unsung Heroes of the Mountain Slopes  appeared first on Out There Venture.

Over the last decade, Whistle Punk Brewing has made its mark on Spokane, including the recent opening of a second taproom in the Millwood area, just blocks off of the Centennial Trail. Their newest venture? A pizza house that’s dishing up whole pies seven days a week alongside crisp pints of their famous Czech pilsner.  

What sets Whistle Punk apart isn’t just the beer and now pizza—it’s the deep intention behind everything they do. Whistle Punk collaborates with other organizations, donating kegs for fundraisers that support public lands and raising money and awareness for diseases like ALS. Their addition of the Pizza Haus is just their latest way to build community and connection. 

“We knew when opening in the city of Millwood we would eventually want to offer a food option. Every good neighborhood needs a great pizza spot and we wanted to fill that void,” says co-founder Daniella Hanson.  

Whistle Punk sources their ingredients from local vendors like Shepherd’s Grain (which uses Palouse-grown wheat), and mushrooms grown from friends at Happy Mountain Mushroom Co. Pizza dough is hydrated with beer that is made using LINC malt, a malt-sourcing company that secures heritage grains from local farmers. The outcome of using local ingredients? Wildly delicious pizza.  

Whether you’re craving a traditional cheese pizza or something you can really sink your teeth into (the Date Night pizza is in fact, perfect for date night), Whistle Punk’s Pizza Haus is the perfect addition to the Millwood neighborhood.

The post Whistle Punk Pizza Haus Brings Local Flavor and Community Spirit to Millwood appeared first on Out There Venture.

Cover photo courtesy of Washington DNR

By Bri Loveall 

Think of a big fire. Pull it up in your mind. I can picture the Carlton Complex fire of 2014 in the Methow Valley, when the sun was a constant circle of fiery red, barely visible through the smoky sky, and the AQI (Air Quality Index) hovered in the 500s for weeks. My throat felt raw after only minutes outdoors. I kept Visine in my day bag to alleviate the constant grit I seemed to have in my eyes. The Carlton Complex fire burned a little over a quarter of a million acres in the course of its six-week burn, with almost 3,000 personnel working the fire. And, as you know, there have been many wildfires in the Inland Northwest since then. 

As devastating as it is, wildfire isn’t an inherently bad thing. In fact, fires are an essential part of a healthy forest ecosystem, recycling nutrients back into the soil and clearing out dead or diseased vegetation so that other healthy plants may grow. But the effects of climate change, increased human-caused fires, and other complex dynamics mean that many present-day wildfires are larger, more destructive and difficult to manage.   

Aside from some vague, Hollywood-esque images of firefighters running through a burning forest, I had no real knowledge about how wildland fires were fought. Nor did I understand the complex level of communication and collaboration that happened between multi-jurisdiction agencies, which are dependent upon a healthy working budget and adequate staffing. While budget cuts and seasonal employee layoffs are a routine fixture in any organizational setting, the recent financial decisions of the Trump administration have generated a lot of cause for concern for the coming fire season.  

Monkey Wrenching with Wildland Firefighting and Public Safety 

Initial hiring freezes ordered by the Trump administration in early 2025 sent shock waves of concern through many of the federal and state agencies we rely on to combat wildfires. While wildland firefighters were eventually deemed exempt due to their critical public safety duties, the federal workforce layoffs that followed led some federally funded public land agency employees to take to the internet with tweets, posts and videos lamenting layoffs of critical wildland firefighting support staff, a move they say will hinder wildfire preparedness and response. 

When I spoke with Ryan Rodruck, Public Information Officer with the Washington Department of Natural Resources (DNR), he assured me that local teams of wildland firefighters would have no trouble managing the fires in their jurisdiction (smaller fires that begin on DNR land) this year.  

Since the DNR is a state agency and adheres to a state budget, it is not affected by federal cuts. In the last three years, 90% of fires in the northeast Washington region have been contained to fewer than 10 acres. This is thanks in large part to the DNR’s aggressive fuel management efforts, forest health management, prescribed burns and other wildfire prevention programs. The concern, Rodruck told me, is in the larger, multi-jurisdiction fires that exceed 10 acres. 

These larger fires are assigned to an incident management team (IMT), a group of people from various agencies: DNR, the Bureau of Land Management, USFS, local fire districts, and even the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). The people who serve within these organizations typically have day jobs that are unrelated to their roles in fighting wildfires, but they are crucial to the functioning of complex interagency wildfire response teams. With the projected layoffs and budget cuts that multiple public land agencies are experiencing, it’s unclear if the employees with dual roles will be there when they’re needed.  

On the Job as a Wildland Firefighter 

Andrew Stenbeck is a veteran DNR wildland firefighter. During the off season he works with the DNR managing state lands, which includes timber harvest, planting trees, fuel reductions, and firefighting training. During the fire season, Stenbeck is a part of a Type 3 team, one that specializes in responding quickly to local fires and taking over the fire management from local resources.  

As Stenbeck described his 35 years as a wildland firefighter to me, I was surprised by the level of communication happening between multiple public land agencies. At the incident command post, or base camp, a slew of operations management teams (all staffed by members from different agencies) gather morning and night to create an Incident Action Plan, a detailed list that discusses safety, logistics, finances, and media plans. An incredible amount of planning happens before a firefighter ever steps foot onto the fire line, with multiple agencies working together to create a cohesive plan to safely contain a wildfire.  

At an incident command post (ICP) camp, firefighting personnel spend 14 days at a time (but sometimes up to 21 without reprieve), sleeping on cots, in tents, or on the ground as they work nonstop to fight fire. ICPs are usually located a safe yet practical distance from the wildland fire, though Stenbeck says he has been stationed as many as 45 minutes away. “It isn’t ideal,” Stenbeck tells me.  

Rodruck agrees, explaining that driving is the second most dangerous thing firefighters will do during fire season as they move back and forth from base camp to the fire line. Increases in wildlife movement, narrow (and often) gravel roads, as well as general fatigue on behalf of the drivers puts personnel at increased risk for accidents.  

When I ask Stenbeck what he likes about this job, he smiles and says he likes to be outdoors. I try to imagine what the fire line looks like before Stenbeck confirms that yes, it is hot, but the weather is still happening as a fire is raging. During the last fire of the season in 2024, Stenbeck awoke to find frost covering his tent. He then donned his gear—a heavy ensemble that includes Nomex pants and jacket, fire-resistant boots like Nick’s or Whites, as well as a hard hat, water, hand tool, first-aid kit, and fire shelter—and got back to work fighting fire.  

Fire bugs, the nearly 40 species of insects that are drawn to heat and smoke, pose another added risk to firefighters on the line. In the last season alone, Stenbeck watched three firefighters airlifted to medical facilities after entering anaphylactic shock from stings. In one summer, he counted 37 stings himself. Bears, displaced, fatigued, and sometimes injured, remain outside the perimeter of the fire as they search for food, often in the form of a firefighter’s lunch sack. As firefighters traverse on foot toward the fire line, mosquitoes are a near constant whine, and among the litany of precautions a person takes every day, they’ll also be checking for ticks each night.  

Uncertainty as Wildfire Season Approaches 

With recent layoffs across multiple federal agencies, there might be fewer boots on the ground facing those hazards as the summer progresses. For instance the return of Incident Management Team staff meteorologists—team members supplied by the NOAA who are essential to fighting fire—may also be in jeopardy. The meteorologists work closely alongside the DNR and other agencies to give accurate predictions of when fire season might start and how the weather will influence a fire incident.  

“We don’t know what the status of these employees are going to be during this round of layoffs,” Rodruck says. It’s these “small, downstream-type effects,” that will ultimately determine how well agencies are able to fight fires this summer. What will those downstream effects mean for our public lands? According to Rodruck, it’s too early to tell.  

Stenbeck, along with others on his team, will be preparing for the 2025 fire season with the mentality that it isn’t a sprint, but a marathon. “It isn’t a matter of if it starts, but when,” Stenbeck says.  

Will those who are needed make it to the fire line this season? Let’s hope so for the sake of our communities, wildlife and the forests and trails we love. 

Until completing this interview, Bri Loveall had never considered what wildland firefighting looked like. She wishes all firefighting personnel a safe fire season.  

The post Smoke Signals from the Fireline  appeared first on Out There Venture.

Cover photo courtesy of Ammi Midstokke

• There are several Discover Pass fee-free days coming up! Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife is holding a Free Fishing Weekend on June 7 and 8, where neither a fishing license nor a Discover Pass will be necessary to give fishing a try on our region’s waterways. All catch rules will still apply, so research gear and limits before you go. (Idaho will be hosting its own Free Fishing Day on June 14.) June 19 and Aug. 9 are also Discover Pass fee-free days on Washington’s public lands, where parking fees are not required at State Parks.  

• June marks the return of Wednesdays in the Woods with Riverside State Park Foundation. The “Hoot Show” will start the series on June 4 with both live owls and raptors, plus free ice cream. June 11 will focus on “Butterflies of Northeastern Washington.” June 18 will feature “Moose, Cougars and Bears, Oh My!” with Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife. June 25 will focus on “Best Spokane Area Day Hikes” and will again include free ice cream for attendees. The first three events will take place at Bowl & Pitcher’s outdoor amphitheater, and the final event will be at the picnic shelter. Discover Pass required for parking.  

• National Trails Day is on June 7. The Friends of Palisades is hosting a geology-focused hike through Palisades Park, with advance registration required. Dishman Hills Conservancy will mark the occasion with hikes guided by Washington State Naturalists within the Dishman Hills Natural Area from Camp Caro. The hikes will begin every 30 minutes, starting at 10:30 a.m. and concluding at 2:30 p.m. with no advance registration required, so an adventurous hiker could join both outings for maximum trail time on this day celebrating trails!  

• Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness free summer hike series includes a hike at Settlers Grove followed by a visit to the Sprag Pole Museum (June 12), a hike with a whitebark pine specialist on Scotchman Peak (June 14), a backpack trip to Little Spar Lake (July 11-12), two “Hike and Read” events co-hosted by Lincoln County Library (July 18 and 25), and more! See the FSPW for full details and to register for events. 
  
  

Outdoor Culture & History Events 

This year marks the bicentennial of Fort Colville on the Columbia River just west of Kettle Falls, with several events planned throughout the year to mark the occasion. On June 20 the organizers have coordinated with the Colville Confederated Tribes to observe the Salmon Ceremony. Event carpooling meets at the Kettle Falls Historical Center at 9 a.m. Additionally, June 21 and 22 will be a Native Culture Weekend at the Kettle Falls Historical Center with history displays and presentations. 

Fundraisers & Contests 

• Okanogan Highlands Alliance will host its annual fundraiser Get Lost Trail Race at Lost Lake on July 13. There will be a service project the day before the event, with optional camping at Lost Lake Campground. This CCC-built campground is by itself worth the visit, and the race has distance options at 3 miles, 7 miles, and 11 miles to take in the views on the surrounding trails. 

• Plan a visit to Teanaway Community Forest this summer and capture photos for the annual photo contest, with the entry portal opening up in August. There will be five total categories with individual prizes, plus a grand prize. Teanaway Community Forest has several DNR campgrounds which are first-come, first-served with Discover Pass as the only fee, along with miles of trails. Follow Teanaway Community Forest on Facebook for additional details. 

Stewardship, Conservation, & Volunteer Opportunities 

• Inland Northwest Land Conservancy will be hosting bi-weekly “Waikiki Wednesdays” and “Glen Tana Thursdays” throughout much of the summer season. Keep in mind that Glen Tana is not yet open to the public, so joining a stewardship project is the best way to get a sneak peek at this fantastic future park, along with helping to make improvements to the property. See the INLC website to sign up.  

• Chelan Douglas Land Trust is hosting Weed Warrior Wednesdays in early June to tackle noxious weeds growing around Lower Sleepy Hollow. The group will meet in the morning on June 4 and will host both a morning and an evening session on June 11. Advance registration required.  

• On June 12, join Kaniksu Land Trust and Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness for an “Intro to Trail Work” evening work party at Pine Street Woods. Advance registration is required. Additional trail maintenance projects with the Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness will take place throughout the summer, so be sure to check the website for the full list.  

• Backcountry Hunters and Anglers is teaming up with Idaho Trails Association for a weekend of trail work on the Fault Lake Trail in the Idaho Selkirks, July 25-27. Additionally, ITA will be teaming up with Friends of the Great Burn Wilderness to host trail work events on the Idaho Centennial Trail (on the Idaho/Montana divide) from Aug. 3-9. ITA has additional fantastic offerings throughout the state, so check the website for more. 

• Washington Trails Association will be hosting both day-long trail work at Mica Peak Conservation Area plus weekend backpacking trail work projects in the Colville National Forest. Highlights include trips to the Salmo Loop and Shedroof Divide within the Salmo Priest Wilderness. See WTA’s website for the full list and to sign up.  

The post The Trailhead: Inland NW Trail & Outdoor News — Your Guide to Outdoor Adventures in the Inland Northwest appeared first on Out There Venture.

One brisk fall morning, my husband and I (along with two teenagers) headed north to Ione, Wash., to experience rail-biking. Also known as rail riding, this unique form of adventure travel gets guests out on a pedal-powered, open-air quad bike on deactivated railways. I’d seen advertisements for rail-biking tours in out of reach places (like the Blue Ridge mountains), and then I learned about this tour in Ione just north of Spokane.  

The North Pend Oreille Valley Lion’s Club operates the current Railrider excursion. Not too long ago, the club offered actual train rides. From 1981 until October 23, 2016, guests could ride along the railway from Ione to Metalline Falls, following the original line that was constructed from 1909 to 1911 and transported goods like lumber and cement.  

Now, the railway is utilized for pedal-powered rail riding. The 6-mile round trip pedal adventure starts at the Ione train station and ends at the trestle overlooking the Box Canyon Hydroelectric Dam. At the end of the tour, guests are offered the chance to tour another 3 miles roundtrip south of the station through farmlands.  

While I’d briefly worried about the activity level (our two teens weren’t exactly thrilled about exercise on such an early Saturday morning), I found the pedaling itself relatively easy. We did, however, make it a game to see if we could tell when one of us wasn’t pedaling (we could). The landscape was awash in fall glory and the reward at the end of the line, the view of the dam, as well as the architecture of the trestles themselves, was impressive to behold.  

While this tour isn’t suitable for small children, it is an incredible opportunity to experience nature in a different way. A little leg power aside, it is easily accessible for most, making it the perfect family bucket list item for your spring, summer, or glorious fall adventure. Tickets must be purchased in advance and sell out at times. Visit Lionsrailriders.com for more.  

The post A Northeast Washington Rail-Biking Adventure   appeared first on Out There Venture.