The Green Miles

Seattle & Phoenix: Two Sides of the Development Problem

Sun, 12 Oct 2008 20:39:10 GMT

I.

Seattle is place of extraordinary geographic beauty. Woody hills pile up against swirling pools of Atlantic backwash, topped in the distance by the blurry outlines of the Cascades and Mount Ranier. What was once a remote lumber village sprung up in the delights of the city's fruitful sea's, deep harbour and mild weather, and ever since then people, and their ideas, just keep coming and coming.

In the last blog I spoke about the wave of green trends that have been cultured in the city's limits, and it is without surprise that Seattle is home, too, to flourishing green development trends.

One of those innovators is the GreenPod, a collection of sustainable, eco-friendly prefab houses, created by architect Ann Raab and her team of Port Townsend designers.

The houses, which strive to introduce low-impact housing with eco-friendly building concepts and interiors: Raab insists that all the GreenPod building materials are recycleable, long-lasting and environmentally traceable; all of the fabrics and textiles in the interiors are natural, and none use chemicals or dyes.

"Our goal is not to just sell "green" homes but to do what we can to help sustain the earth, all life, educating others as we proceed with a more gentle way of life, " Raab explained.

The designs, themselves, are flashes of glass and metal melded into strong, abstract shapes, shown perched inside forests, on mountain cliffs, and even floating on ponds. They are stunning and look far more expensive than their relatively moderate costs. Clients can pick out all the interior materials, and they all have the option of coming with furniture. For Raab, the interior became the GreenPod's most important aspect.

"The inside [of a house] is often five-times more toxic than the outside. It's the mold, it's the chemicals, the pesticides on your clothes, just pretty much a chemical soup," she said, "It's a process that we just thought, if we did it right once for people, then they had a taste for it and could see why it was so important, to be smaller to live with more sustainable materials, that they would be more sustainable for the earth."

But it wasn't just about building the houses with sustainable materials. It was about making it an efficient and environmentally-conscientious process - one that the team decided was best done as a prefabricated process, meaning that the houses are build in a warehouse, shipped to the building site, and then erected, there.

"I think the idea of manufacturing the house makes sense. There's no waste of the materials, it isn't outside so the materials aren't getting wet. It's very efficient - anytime you manufacture something it's efficient, " she explained, "The pin foundation, it's very low impact because you're not digging up the soil, and there's a huge respect for the dirt, just the way it was. It's aerrated, there's a water table, so you're kind of respecting the existing proeprty the way it was."

For as much construction is going on in Seattle, however, not all builders are as conscientious of their process and waste. Still, Raab hopes that her architectural trendsetting is only the start.

"I think this is the beginning of a wave. In many respects I feel this can't happen fast enough. We need to create more alternative energy technology and work toward more energy efficiency and less chemical dependency."

II.

We landed in Phoenix yesterday afternoon, and as I gazed out the window as we began our descent, I saw the famous sprawling city, well, doing it what it does best: sprawling out into the wide white desert, below.

Phoenix, (which is actually a collection of small-towns-turned-suburbs like Tempe, Scottsdale - my friend here likes to call it "Snotsdale" - Chandler and Surprise) like Colorado Springs, is a bastion of upper-middle-class white America. Big, adorable adobe houses, with their shiny turquoise pools and shinier SUVs, bloom across the rocky sand, broken up only by highways and business high-rises.

Oh, yes. And lots of Wal-Marts.

Anyway, everyone I talked to about going to Phoenix made some sort of heavy sigh, and said things like, "It's glorified suburbia", or "there are more Wal-Marts than people", or "it's utterly soulless". These were not the most hopeful of comments, and it, of course, swayed my opinion on the city even before I witnessed first-hand it's slow spread.

But there's a reason I came to Phoenix, and it's because all those malls have a reason: it's America's second fastest growing city, topped only by the Dallas off-shoot of Fort Worth.

Its population grew 45% from 1990 to 2000, according to the US Census Bureau, compared to the US average of 15%, and in 2007 it's population topped 1.5 million - growing 43,000 from the year, before.

The constant push of people into the area, of course, means that real estate and construction in Phoenix is a booming business. In 2007, according to statistics from Arizona State Real Estate Studies, Phoenix constructed 12,828 new homes, worth more than 1.3 billion dollars in total. Also in 2007, the city sold 5,145 new homes, worth an average of $300,580, each (compared to 2000, where Phoenix sold only 2,120 new homes and the average sold at half that, around $154,900).

What it means in reality, is that the city is becoming richer as it grows bigger and bigger, consuming more land and resources as they build their gorgeous adobe haciendas. One statistic has Phoenix spreading into the desert at the rate of one acre an hour, and it is sucking up the water as it goes: according to the 1999 US Census, Phoenix used 104 billion gallons of water - about 175 gallons per person, each day.

Ah, and then there's the Brown Cloud: a sepia-coloured fog that rests in the valley thanks to carbon and nitrogen dioxide, and which traps the scorching heat even more.

This is all sounding very doom and gloom, and I don't mean it to be. There, of course, are on-going concerted efforts that Phoenix and surrounding communities are making to lessen pollution and preserve the landscape - like the lightrail and the Brown Cloud Summit - but after learning about the GreenPods, and knowing there are more sustainable solutions out there, this very minute, it makes me wonder why Phoenix isn't taking this influx of people as an opportunity to take environmental development (is that an oxymoron?) by the reigns.

The people are still coming - at the rate of around 40,000 every year. Perhaps there's still time.

In the Pacific Northwest, Grassroots Flourish

Mon, 06 Oct 2008 17:52:34 GMT

Here we are, on the Pacific Northwest Coast.

Home to the progressive capitalist institutions of Starbucks, Microsoft, & Amazon, and contrastingly, the site of the infamous WTO protests of '99. Yes, people in these parts - namely Vancouver, Seattle & Portland - have always been seen by the rest of North America as political and social motivators for change.

Take Zines. Or Emo! And even the early roots of environmentalism and sustainability: they all had either their founding or their upbringing in this little pocket of bays, islands and well-watered greenery, which it turns out, is more than just a pretty place. The great rainy northwest is a bastion of green subculture, where biking the commute, grocery co-ops and dumpster-diving for second-hand goods have flourished, and it seems people around here work hard to be green and be heard, from online environmental bibles Grist and Worldchanging, to Portland's Green Building Program, to the Seattle commission that demanded the city, itself, adhere to the Kyoto treaty.

What's different about the northwest, it seems, is not the fact, perhaps, that these great things are happening, but that they're generally being driven from a very grassroots, citizens-brigade level.

I caught up with longstanding Vancouver environmental activism group Society for Promoting Environmental Conservation (better known as SPEC), who have been campaigning for environmental protection for 35 years in British Columbia. Their successes include implementing a moratorium on off-shore drilling in the Vancouver area, stopping the development of nuclear power plants and advocating for laws that limit pesticide usage.

Executive Director Karen Wristen sees SPEC's successes as very citizen-driven, " All of SPEC's campaigns that have succeeded have done so because we formed appropriate alliances and/or motivated citizens to become involved as advocates for a cause," she said.

In fact, part of SPECs priorities includes "educating and empowering citizens" to take up the battle, themselves.

"This is the role of citizens in environmental protection: speaking to their political leaders directly and forcefully about what they want to see happen, and going in to that meeting armed with the facts (that's our role--educating the citizenry)," she said.

However, Wristen thinks the most important part of environmental activism starts personally, "On an everyday level, citizens need to be leaders in reducing their own carbon footprints, because we have no effective political leadership on this issue in Canada. At the moment."

Wristen also thinks that green-conscious travelers need to take up arms: "Stop flying. If you've got time to travel, go by boat or train--your greenhouse gas footprint will be much smaller. If you have to fly, do it only when your destination is 5 or more hours' distant--that way, you're not 'spending' so much carbon on takeoff and landing. When you get there, walk, cycle, canoe take transit or ride a horse if the opportunity presents," she said.

She also suggests being careful of who you buy from, "Buy locally wherever you go--make an effort to support local economies rather than buying imported goods. Take advantage of eco-tourism opportunities--by supporting these efforts, you probably help prevent lands and waters from being exploited for industrial purposes," she said.

On a whole, however, while Wristen says that the Canadian government is less-perceptive than her American-cousins at moving forward progressive environmental initiatives, SPECs focus of educating and empowering Canadian citizens remains hopeful, and it all remains activism from a very personal, grassroots level.

"Stay tuned," Wristen said, "because after all those educated, activated and empowered citizens get through voting, it may be a different story!"

Playing it Green in Colorado

Sun, 28 Sep 2008 22:22:48 GMT

Colorado Springs, Colorado, is a city of 372,437 people, nestled in the foothills of the Rockies, at the base of the majestic, 14,110 foot Pikes Peak. It sits almost smack in the middle of the state of Colorado, and therefore almost directly middle of the US, itself.

In many ways, it epitomises middle-American society.

Founded in 1871 as a military outpost by General William Palmer, Colorado Springs became a base for gold-rushers, then an artists' colony, and then a health sanctuary for tuberculosis patients. It has always been a place of extremes, and no more so than now.

Today, it is a military town - home to the US Air Force Academy, two separate Air Force bases, the Cold War mountain missile defense compound NORAD, and Fort Carson military base - not to mention numerous defense contractors including Boeing and Lockheed Martin. Coincidentally, it is also a very Evangelical Christian city - home to the religious right institutions of Focus on the Family, The Navigators, Young Life and the 11,000-plus member New Life Church.

The arts and education also play a large role Colorado Springs, with 12 universities - including Colorado College, one of Colorado's oldest and first liberal arts universities - and renowned art institutions promoting more left-leaning city initiatives.

In person, the Springs is visually just as contrasting: little Jesus-fish perch on rumbling SUVs, while university students zoom past on rickety old bikes and moms push buggies down the wide, smooth pavements. Here, beautiful stone buildings which used to be health sanitariums sit next to tall, granite high-rises and squat little chain-stores, all peppered along overly wide streets (wide enough to turn around a horse and carriage, is the common tale) with the mountains towering above.

A city of contrasts it may be, but there is one thing that brings everyone together, and that's getting the heck outdoors.

Men's Fitness Magazine ranked Colorado Springs the US's Fittest City in 2008, and being here, it comes as little surprise. Parks, trails and "open spaces" are literally everywhere, winding in and around the city, and out into the nearby mountains - and people are always on them. The city has 209 parks, and the park acreage per capita, according to the survey, is 142% higher than the US average.

Residents here are 95% more likely than the average US citizen to go day-hiking, and nearly 5 times as many people here consider themselves mountain bikers, which is made even better thanks to its fabulous-ranking air quality. Locals don't even cower inside when the snows hit: locals are 287% more likely to go snowboarding and 560% more likely to go snowshoeing than the average Joe.

Now, be your political or religious views what they may, but when it comes to green-living, in the most basic sense, Colorado Springs wins some major points. People here might disagree about carbon-footprints, the vehicles they drive, and the environmental policies they want to see come into practice, but they can all agree on this: that they live in a geographically and environmentally spectacular place, and they want to keep getting out to enjoy it.

And it's just so easy.

We spent an afternoon winding through Cheyenne Mountain State Park, hiking a gravel path and watched a tiny waterfall hurl through a mountain pass. We watched dogs race around in canine bliss at the Cheyenne Meadows Dog Park (also known as a the Happiest Place on Earth. Seriously: if you ever wanted to cheer up after a bad day at work, just visit a dog park). We climbed Red Rock Canyon, a phenomenal donated "open space" with hiking and biking trails, and municipal climbing routes. An hour's drive found us winding around, white-knuckled, the legendary high-cliffed rim of Phantom Canyon, surrounded by the bright gold of autumnal Aspens. Inside city limits, we jogged Shooks Run, the 4-mile vein of parkland that bisects the city.

There's more we didn't get to: the infamous vertical running track up Pikes Peak; the otherworldly spikes and precipices (known world-wide for climbing) at Garden of the Gods; or hitting balls into the rough at the Valley Hi Golf Course. We're busily making a list for our return.

It's no wonder that Colorado Springs is America's fittest city, and while there are lots of reasons to debate about the city's various environmental and political policies - it's a controversial swing state in this heated election - it seems like a great indicator of integrity that one of America's fastest growing cities is also one that is working hard to preserve and promote green space, not only for better living, but for better playing, too.

"Localvore" Eating in Chicago

Tue, 23 Sep 2008 21:00:51 GMT

It's harvest season, and you'll have to forgive me, but I can't stop talking about food.

We were in Chicago this weekend, visiting our dear friends Myndi & Charlie, who moved there a few months ago, and who are already well-versed in the city's local food culture. So, it was with great coincidence that we arrived just as nearby farms were at their fullest, and one of the city's biggest farmers markets was promoting a great campaign to eat local.

The Green City Market in Lincoln Park is more than an excuse for a Sunday afternoon out with the kids or dogs (although that's good too). In the relatively small cluster of white-tented market stalls that line the edge of the park, overflowing with tufts of green lettuce, bright boxes of apples, and glowing jars of honey, they work to support small family farms and build appreciation for local, fresh, sustainably raised produce and products. This summer, they even went a step further and challenged market-goers to two weeks of eating only those foods grown or produced in Illinois or it's bordering states.

They call it the being a 'Localvore', and it was clear that many of the market-goers wandering around with their own canvas shopping bags, chatting to the farmers at the stalls, had taken up the challenge. The market also urged a number of Chicago chefs & eco-minded business owners to participate. They suggested people seek out local butchers and shops, to read the back of every label, and if they wanted to venture out to dine, to do so at a restaurant that was also partaking in the challenge.

While eating from a farmers' market and popping down to the butcher doesn't sound difficult on the face, many participants found a busy city lifestyle and things like locally-made spices and condiments difficult to find.

Chicagoan Jen Khatchatrian, owner of EcoChic Organizer, a service that helps families green-up their home, said her two-week challenge was humbling.

"As a busy mom of two young children, I never took the time to check out where my food was made. I thought that if I was shopping at Whole Foods and buying organic, I was doing my best for my family. Now I realize that there is more to consider," she said.

She recommends keeping the pantry stocked with local staples and snacks.

"Since I am not the best at planning meals beforehand and eat on the fly so to speak, it is handy to have local food ready at your fingertips. Our downfalls during the challenge have come from the grab and go situations and using existing products in our pantry or refrigerator that were either going bad or necessary for a specific recipe," she said.

Green City Market volunteer and food enthusiast Sara Gasbarra says the challenge has changed her food outlook.

"I have made a conscious effort to try new sources of meat and look for local options for my pantry staples, but in general, I have always tried to buy only seasonal produce at the market, and when shopping at the store, look for items that have been farmed locally, " she said.

Still, she said that she couldn't give up some non-local items, "I decided after day one, that I wasn’t going to give up lemons, limes, olives, avocados and other items clearly not available and grown in the Midwest... I cook with these ingredients almost daily and that’s never going to change. "

Being a Localvore has been met with some difficult questions, like those from Kyle Louis, who wrote about his experience of the challenge in a community blog.

"With so many options out there for how to buy and consume food, which ones are “right”? For instance, is it better to buy organic apples from South America or conventional apples from Michigan? If a large company can produce a product using resources more efficiently, is that product preferable to one produced by a small business which uses a greater amount of resources?" he said, " I know it’s all in where your priorities lie - whether environmental, health related, local economy based, etc."

While there really can not be a line drawn between many of these issues, it's clear that the slow food movement and local gastronomy is catching on and gaining ground with every-day consumers.

Sara Gasbarra has a balanced perspective, "For me, this Challenge is not so much about what I can't have or what I won’t allow myself to have (because its not “local”), but more about what I can have, or how I can make “local” substitutions here and there...I won’t worry about the lemons I use, but just take solace in the fact that 4 out 5 five isn’t bad for being a tried and true 'Localvore'…"

Beefing Up The Slow Food Movement

Fri, 12 Sep 2008 20:27:18 GMT

Erik Sather has trouble with his job title. Butcher? No, too harsh. Cook? Too casual. He would prefer to be known at Clancey's Meat & Fish as "Meat Cutter and Good Food Tasting Maker". However, as Sather zooms around the shop's tiny back room cutting meat, making it taste good, chatting to customers and devising new creations for chicken thighs, it seems that an all-encompassing job title is appropriate, if not just for the all-encompassing way that Clancey's seems to work.

Owner Kristin Tombers has been making meat masterpieces in the Linden Hill's neighbourhood shop for five years, this October, and it's obvious the place has become a local institution. The bell over the door keeps jingling as customers rush in for a pound of rump roast, a vat of frozen chicken stock, or a chunk of fine cheese, and Tombers and Sather know them all by name.

While Linden Hills is widely known as a community that supports local businesses (a successful Co-Op, Sebastian Joe's Ice Creamery, and a number of small boutiques are testament to that), Clancey's is sort-of the jewel on the crown. Tombers has personally sought out all of the suppliers she works with, making sure all of them are non-commodity farmers or producers who have a hands-on approach. She's waddled around with the geese that make her foi gras at nearby Au Bon Canard; she's inspected the cattle that become her renowned beef cuts at Hill and Vale Farms in Southern Minnesota - and it all comes from a deep love and knowledge of all things food-related.

She stresses that Clancey's is not solely about "organic" or "sustainable", but a more holistic approach to food production that revolves around the Slow Food Movement.

"I felt that people were mislead or confused by "all natural", "free-range", and "organic". All I knew to do at the time was meet our farmers on their land, and see for myself how they worked. Then, I just kept talking to our customers about the real definitions of those terms. We've been mostly about local and then, I guess could be called part of the slow food movement," she said.

"My drive with food is about moving away from big box, broadliners, and anything that doesn't have some artisanal aspect to it."

The Slow Food Movement, itself, is a philosophy based on the belief, according to Slow Food International, "that the food we eat should taste good; that it should be produced in a clean way that does not harm the environment, animal welfare or our health; and that food producers should receive fair compensation for their work."

Unlike the "organic" or "sustainable" phenomenon, Slow Food supporters promote the kind of farm-to-table eating that leaves out government certifications, big grocery chains and distributors. Their most important work, thought, according to Ron Huff, the leader and founder of Slow Food Minnesota, is education - knowing how food is made and where it comes from.

"I always suggest to customers that they read Michael Pollan, specifically 'Omnivore's Dilemma'. I also think it's important to read ingredient labels! And it never hurts to ask questions at restaurants about the provenance of items on menus," Tombers said.

She also suggests a more hands-on approach, "One of the first ways I learned true appreciation for food was gardening (my mom grew tomatoes in a community garden when we were kids and I've been at it for the last 15 years). That's the sweetest place to start."

Huff's approach to Slow Food is simple, too: "Go to the market," he said, "Go to the farm. Buy direct. Purchase fresh."

After five years in Linden Hills, it seems a combination of thorough knowledge and simplistic approach is what keep the people jingling through Clancey's door all day long, and Tombers seems satisfied, but still looking forward: "When we first opened, roughly 5 or more of 10 people would ask if we were organic and I would give my very lengthy answer. Five years later, it's about 1 out of 10 people that ask. The more common question now is, "is your stuff local?" I love it!"

"We're lucky to be in a great location and opened at a time when people were starting to have better awareness of the mess our food system has become. Timing and momentum have been on our side. And beyond the farmed food itself, we've created a very cozy, friendly environment where we know people by name and invite them in to see what we do. "

Some Wine Advice From Larry

Fri, 05 Sep 2008 14:30:23 GMT

I asked, and Larry Colbeck, CEO of The Wine Company and Artisan Vineyards, answered. Here is the expert's word on the world of eco-friendly wine:

GM: There is much talk of sustainable, organic and biodynamic wine in the market today. Can you give a brief, "elevator-talk" synopsis of the differences between these types of wines for curious readers?

Larry: Sustainable is laudable in its intention but has no lawful definition or certification. Its just: "we’ll be organic where we can but faced with a serious problem we may resort to any means." Organic usually means organically grown where no chemical fertilizers, weed killer, insecticides or other synthetic chemicals are used. Biodynamics is more than just a prohibition of synthetic chemicals but a commitment to actions which enhance the balance and harmony of the land, plants and environment.

GM: I know the idea of sulfides in wine is confusing to consumers and wine-drinkers (like me) who suffer from a sulfide allergies. It seems, from visiting wineries, a necessary evil in the wine-making process, and yet there are lots of wineries who add far too much sulfide than necessary. Do you have any suggestions for people trying to avoid purchasing wine with excessive sulfide?

Larry: For the Federal government “contains sulfites” labeling to be of any real value it should have required parts per million labeling so a consumer could discern between which wineries using lots of sulfites and those being judicious. There is no sure fire way to tell from the label if a wine is lower in sulfites. Your best bet is to by organic wines.

GM: As the idea of boutique wines becomes more popular among consumers, larger wineries are starting to branch-off smaller sections that they market as boutique wines under different labels. Is there a way to tell these wannabes apart from the real, small boutique wineries who deserve our business?

Larry: The simplest way was to look at the address of the winery. If it was Modesto you had a good idea it was a Gallo brand; a "dba" – doing business as. Unfortunately that is less reliable now. Many small wineries have been purchased by the production giants.

GM: What is Artisan Vineyards and what do you try to promote?

Larry: Artisan Vineyards is a web site dedicated to exposing people to small wine growers. Some wines are so esoteric or produced in such small quantities that they are not suitable to classic import and retail channels yet in many ways are the most deserving of wine lovers’ patronage. These are the wines we want to showcase.

GM: Can you recommend your top 5 organic wines? (I know it's hard!)

Larry: Any wine from Nicolas Joly, Baumard Savennieres, Evesham Wood Cuvee J Pinot Noir, Nikolaihof Gruner Veltliner, and, finally, the true bargain of the organic wines, Saladini Pilastri Rosso Piceno.

Many thanks to Larry & those at Artisan Vineyards for your swift answers during a very busy season!

Fresh Taste and the Continued Hunt For Really, Truly Organic Wine

Sun, 31 Aug 2008 18:22:12 GMT

It was a difficult task, but last Sunday I spent the afternoon wandering around the Fresh Taste Food Festival in Minneapolis, sampling food and wine and learning from some of the Twin Cities' best restaurants, chefs and food producers - all of whom employ organic, sustainable and/or local practices.

A number of award-winning chefs cooked for the crowd, jumping between the tenants of "slow food" and the correct order to pile-in a paella, other guests huddled around booths offering samples from menus (my favourite: Nicollet Island Inn Executive Chef Erick Harcey's English Pea Bruschetta - recipe included, below!), while yet more visitors gathered as Twin Cities Natural Food Co-Ops made mozzarella before our very eyes.

Like I said, it was tough, but I soldiered on.

My favourite part, however, was bumping into Larry Colbeck, the founder & CEO of The Wine Company, who runs a wine retailer that specialises in artisinal wines (aptly named Artisan Vineyards). I had been directed by two separate people to Larry, who they said knew more about organic wine-making than anyone at the festival, and it was obvious he did. While Larry and I sampled the Hirsch Gruner Veltliner #1, he helpfully walked me through the featured wines that day, explained about the business and divulged he thought the hottest new wines were the ones coming out of small Hungarian vineyards.

It was a great day to learn about organic wines, and so I thought I'd ask Larry a few more questions that will help readers understand the a little more about the wine-making process. While I await his response, I'll leave you thus far with this excerpt of what Artisan Vineyards' experts think about organic wine. Note the recommendations, too! I'll be back later this week with Larry's words.

The large majority of Organic wines are in fact made from Organically grown grapes but not vinified “organically”. The obstacle to organic winemaking is the prohibition of sulfur compounds in the winemaking process. For better or worse, the addition of minute levels of sulfur dioxide at the end of the winemaking process is what keeps wines stable in the bottle long term. Not to add a few parts per million of SO2 when finishing your wines is to invite disaster your cellar. Organic grape farming, however, is becoming widely popular as more and more winemakers have recognized that they simply get better fruit from the vineyards that are farmed organically than those that are farmed using conventional methods. Organic certification, which is currently handled by a number of competing authorities, at its base requires the grower to demonstrate that they are working without chemical fertilizers, weed killers, insecticides, and other synthetic chemicals. These wineries must demonstrate that the vineyards in question have been handled in accordance with these Organic prohibitions for between five and seven years before certification is possible.
Baumard
Chateau de Beaucastel
Perrin
Mas de Gourgonnier
Daniel Barraud
Tour des Gendres
Cono Sur
Hautes Noelles
Tablas Creek
Saladini Pilastri
Patianna
Cooper Mountain
Nicholas Joly
Mas Amiel
San Michele
Evesham Wood
Nikolaihof

On The Green Generational Gap

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 15:48:59 GMT

I'm pretty sure my parents are single handedly causing the frightening decline in the world's frog population.
You see, they've got a hot tub. And they have a number of small lakes and ponds near their house, which is backed-up to a refreshingly huge thicket of wood. Thus, my parents' evening jaunt to enjoy the warm, bubbly pool and a plastic goblet of wine is often met by a party of frogs, with little tree frogs and bullfrogs suckling the steam inside the tub's insulated cover. Of course, there are also a number of the reptiles that don't understand the water is chlorinated or there is a strong current that leads straight to a deathly drainage system, so there are usually a few frogs splayed and spinning, dead, around the tub, stinking-up the filters.
For a few years, my parents simply swept away the frogs and put them back in the woods, but after the sixtieth or seventieth time they found frog guts simmering around in there (after which they had to do an intensive 24-hour deep chlorination), they just started flinging the poor creatures on the floor or - on the darkest day - my mother packed a bunch of half-dead frogs into a plastic bag and threw them in the trash.
After that last incident, we haven't seen but a few small frogs hovering around the hot tub, and all of them sheepishly hopped away when we flipped back the cover. Had the word gotten around? Did they know that my parents were causing a terrible frogocide?
Squashing frogs is something that anyone who has ever used a lawnmower knows well, but I think my parents' treatment of the hot tub reptiles begs an interesting question: how does one handle the environmental sins of their loved ones? While my parents are certainly responsible for my early environmental education and promoting my love of the outdoors, there are also some environmental life habits they cultivate that make me cringe. They drive two monstrous SUVs, in part, because they simply like riding higher on the road; they have 3 houses which they have to simultaneously heat and cool, respectively; and they are also known to chuck a bunch of frogs into a plastic bag and throw it in the bin.
Now, I am by NO means an environmental saint. We all know I am plugging my way along these travels trying to manage life and environmental goodwill, but I'm not perfect. I am also not incredibly sure where to draw the line between their actions, and how they affect me. First of all, they are generously letting us stay with them at no cost and lots of hospitality. That should be enough to reserve my environmental judgement, hands-down. Yet, sometimes things get foggy: we've been trying to a bike more and utilize public transport, but often the only realistic option is a car - and so my mother kindly offers (and I quickly partake in using) the old Chevy Blazer. Do I take her kind offer, or do I refuse based on environmental righteousness?
And it goes both ways. Yesterday my dad accused me of being "buffaloed" (ever heard that term?) into buying organic macaroni & cheese, which I assume means 'tricked', because it wasn't buffalo-flavoured, and my mom often rolls her eyes at our over-use of mobile phones and computers. They certainly don't think we're walking the high-road, either.

So, maybe the real question is: is it simply generational? With my parents thinking they are the older, wiser ones (who often see green-crazy revelations as more of a fleeting trend), and us thinking we are hip with the latest environmental advances and the energy to match? And where should we draw the line, between supporting family and supporting bad environmental decisions? Or should we, at all?
I asked a not entirely random pool of people this question: who do you think is better at environmentalism - the older generations or the younger ones? Here's what they said.

Name: Marsha Kalscheur

Generation: 50s, USA

"I think the younger generation are more intune to it; that it's second nature to be concerned about the environment. I think a lot of people are willing to do it - recycle - 'course it could just be the people I know."

Name: Maddie Johnson

Generation: Teens, USA

"The future generation, just because we know more about it now. Right now there are t-shirts and clubs at school. But its probably somewhere in the middle."

Name: David Retka

Generation: 50s, USA

"Depends on the individual because I think there are a lot of younger people who care to preserve our environment, keep it clean, and there are a lot of old people who care. It depends on the individual."

Name: Philippa Tidd

Generation: Teens, UK

"I think it's equal, because I don't think it matters. Some people just do care, and some don't."

Name: Susan Retka

Generation: 50s, USA

"I think the younger generation, probably, because I think they are more easily influenced by media reports. I also think they are more liberal and environmentalists are more on the liberal side. But I don't think the younger generation does anything either."

On Loving Food More, Waste Less

Sat, 09 Aug 2008 22:37:32 GMT

Oh, man, do I love food.

Eat it, make it, smell it, and maybe roll around in it: food and I have a very intimate relationship. I could take you along our every step through South America based on taste, alone. I could sing songs about summer corn on the cob on the grill, and by the time we touched down here in the US, last month, I was about to throw myself on the ground and beg for some fresh, non-Salmonella-contaminated salad greens. While that was a bit prematurely misjudged, the sentiment is still there: I, like millions of other Americans, love me some serious grub.

Apparently, though, our food adoration and big eyes are becoming more than just a waistline burden, as according to a recent government study, an estimated 27 percent of food available for consumption (and this means supermarkets, restaurants and household kitchens) ends up being thrown out. That adds up to one pound of food, per day, for every single American.

Now, we all know that America isn't exactly overly eager at trimming their waste-lines, either, but consider this: the Environmental Protection Agency estimates that Americans generate roughly 30 million tons of food waste per year, adding up to 12 percent of all wastage, combined. 98 percent of that food waste ends up in landfills (as opposed to yard waste, of which 62 percent is composted). And landfills? They produce methane, which, as we all know, is a main source of greenhouse gases.

Anyway, while the recession has helped to curb excess food waste, with restaurants serving smaller portions and people simply not buying as much, the problem of food waste is popping up larger on the radar of many Americans, In fact, with fuel and food costs increasing, it goes beyond merely the environmental implications. America's Second Harvest, a national network of about 200 food banks, report that food donations are down 9 percent, while people showing up for food have increased by 15-20 percent.

Here in Minneapolis, Second Harvest works hard to salvage food from restaurants, stores, and individual donors. Last year they collected 2.3 million pounds of food, and they expect the number to increase this year. In the UK, food bank charity Fareshare did a similarly amazing job across the whole of the country, saving 3,000 tons of food to redistribute 4.6 million meals to 25,000 people in need, every day.

With hungry mouths to feed and tons of food piling up in landfills, which in turn create greenhouse gases, which may then influence droughts and floods that ruin crops and push food prices even higher - phew - it creates a mind-boggling confusion, doesn't it?

You know what I like to do when I have these heady, overwhelming thoughts about the world? I mean, like, other than eat?

I like to think of Japan.

In that wee land of awesome fashion and even awesomer raw fish-related delicacies, the new legislation has taken food waste to a new dimension. There, an estimated 75 percent of their annual 20 million tons of food waste is sent into a strict recycling programme, whereby about half is turned into animal feeds, five percent is used by energy companies to harness the methane gas and produce power, and the rest is made into fertilizer. Other countries, from Brazil to Finland to Thailand (26 in all), are taking hints from Japan and jumping on board the Methane to Markets Partnership, which works to curb methane by a diverse number of means, including biogas recovery from food and animal waste.

Let's just pause and entertain another heady, overwhelming thought: far away, in Japan, pigs are chomping down on old chopped up dried sushi rolls and sandwiches, which they then, ehem, excrete, which gets changed into clean (well, not literally, obviously) energy, which then powers kitchens that use the pigs and other vegetables, that might later get thrown out and then re-eaten and oh-my-word, the cycle continues.

Other than the obvious worry about Mad Pig thanks to pigs eating themselves in feed (but pigs eat anything. Like, even shoe leather, right?), I think that's a pretty amazing cycle - one which cuts animal feed costs, perhaps lowering the food costs, themselves, as well as creating clean energy and lowering methane emissions.

Now, here's the real question: the US and the UK are both partners of Methane to Markets. So where is our amazing cycle? I didn't see any compost bins or food-waste pickups in my London borough, and I don't see any in Minneapolis, either. And while organisations like Second Harvest and FareShare are doing great things to reduce food waste environmentally and socially, I do wonder what it is I can do to push the cycle along, further.

Here are a couple ideas, which I am combining with the personally controversial concept of 1) eating less and 2) finishing what's on my plate (eek!). Revelatory, I know. If only you truly understood how strongly I feel about barbecued ribs.

3) I am searching through my cupboards (okay, they're actually my mother's, but who needs 4 cans of pickled onions, really?) and sending them to my local food bank. You can donate extra dry goods (and other items - check the respective lists!) to Fareshare in the UK, and Second Harvest in the US.

4) I am starting a proper compost bin, courtesy of the helpful people at Garden Organic, which will create a lovely fertilizing compost that will in turn help vegetables grow that will in turn feed me and man-oh-man, these heady thoughts continue.

And grilled corn on the cob? It can fit into all of these ideas. I'm going to write a song.

Outdoor Education

Fri, 01 Aug 2008 20:21:27 GMT

I spent the summers of my youth on the muddy banks of Lake Winnibigoshish, a large body of weed-heavy, fish-teeming waters surrounded by hundreds of acres of wild national forest. The state of Minnesota has more than 10,000 lakes, and Winnie (as it's known), is the fifth largest. It is a huge open expanse of water, pooled by the Mississippi (which winds through very early on its way down the continent), and known amongst weather-hardened fisherman as some of the best waters for catching Walleye and Northern.

I wouldn't know, exactly, but I do have a lot of expertise on catching wee Sunfish off the end of our dock using corn kernels (I didn't like touching the worms).

Anyway, as I have grown and travelled the world, I always fall back to those youthful summers - paddling around the mucky water, trolling the sandbanks with my brother, looking for arrowheads, swinging from the hammock and arguing about bird calls and tree types - as the best bits of my life. Like, when you are finishing yoga class, and your instructor tells you to find your "happy place"? I always go back to the dock, the lake, and the feel of a northerly breeze on my face.

Viewing my childhood summers here from an adult perspective, though, I find it to be more important than just a bunch of nice, rosy memories of getting dirty and learning what fish scales feel like. Sure, that's all great, but there are also lessons in environmental education, appreciation, and of living simply and sustainably.

The idea of a "summer cabin" is practically universal in Minnesota and other northern states. If you don't have one, you usually know someone who does, and have been invited along for a week "at the lake". Most cabins are within a couple hours drive from peoples' homes, and they make a great weekend getaway. They range from large estates (my best friend's cabin has five separate houses, included a boat house right on the lake), to little glorified boxes in the woods (in the case of my family, where we have grown ever-so fond of its orange carpeting and fake wood wall panelling), and boats are usually included in the picture somewhere.

For my family - especially my dad, who is an avid fisherman and hunter - the perfect choice for a cabin was tucked away as remotely as possible, surrounded by miles of woodland, and made into as simple a lifestyle as possible. Ours is actually a relocated mining shack which was moved into the protected woods of the national forest under the very strict and watchful eye of the Forest Service, who patrol the area and fine us and our neighbours if we build anything not pre-approved or cut the grass where we shouldn't be. For us, it was these strict rules that have made our lives so simple and fruitful, here. We can't make the muddy banks into a sandy beach, so we jump off the dock and learn about the consistency of lake muck, the different types of leaches that nest in our armpits, and the kinds of minnows that nibble at our feet. We can't cut parts of the garden, so we get frequent visits from deer and badgers and porcupines and black bears. We can't extend our dock away from the weeds, so we see loons and ducks nesting with their adorable little hatchlings.

Here, we can't help but living more simply. We catch our dinner from the lake, clean it, and cook it right up; we take advantage of the acres of raspberries, blackberries and blueberries ripening around us; until only a few years ago my parents owned an old black and white TV that only got one channel, which they turned on only to hear the news (now their new colour television gets a magical two channels). Sure, nothings perfect: my dad's fishing boat is a shameful gas-guzzler, and right now, I am typing on my dad's computer which he connects to the Internet via a fancy wireless card and a really large antenna. He wouldn't have dreamed of bringing such a thing up here when we were kids, and for that I am extremely thankful.

Now, I hate to be all "kids these days!", but I know very few kids these days that would actually appreciate a week at a place like this without loads of whinging. American or British alike, kids are already married to the digital life, sucking away their souls by way of mobile phones and Facebook and, while I enjoy a text like the best of them, I honestly fear for the future of our environment when the next generation won't even get out into it. In the words of a teenager I know: "Um, there are bugs out there?!"

We are in serious trouble if the kids responsible for future conservation won't even know what they are conserving.

In my mind, when people don't understand or appreciate their outdoor environment, then protecting it becomes an abstract and fruitless endeavor. Why would you care about water pollution or deforestation if you had never been to a lake where loons live and beavers build their dams, or into a forest that supports nesting eagles?

Here, in Minnesota, where cabin culture is so prolific, perhaps its easier to guide kids into better appreciating the outdoors. While there is significant outdoor education curriculum in UK schools, there is still much to be gleaned from just getting out and away, as a family. There are a number of great free &/or cheap resources that families can do to inspire interest in the outdoors for their little ones.

If you start early, your little one could even be the next world's leading expert on identifying leech types or toe-biting minnows. Wouldn't you be proud?

Here are a number of sites that offer, by way of cool parks, education centres, or get-aways, great chances to do some serious environmental appreciation:

The Eden Project - If you haven't yet been to the Eden Project, you might possibly want to check your pulse and check you are still, in fact, a living being, because it's pretty much the awesomest place to go in England for learning about the environment. An old clay pit was transformed into huge, fabulous greenhouse bubbles, which enclose huge gardens to explore, plus lots of classes, projects and concerts mean your kids (and you) won't ever be bored.

Cool Camping - Camping is one of the best ways to educate yourself on the outdoors, as you simply can't get away from it. At Cool Camping, travel Writer Jonathan Knight rounds up the best campsites around Britain. He's got a number of books out, but the site also provides a "Campsite of the Month" feature, which is a great place to start for planning your next weekend getaway.

Scouts/Girl Guides/Duke of Edinburgh - No better way to get your kids interested in the outdoors than a little healthy peer pressure. The Scouts, Girl Guides and the Duke of Edinburgh Award get kids outside in supervised treks, camping and outdoor activities.

Brecon Beacons - This Welsh National Park is a splendid consortium of mountains, valleys, waterfalls and rivers. It offers just about every outdoor activity available, and supports a number of green tourism businesses, including lodges and campsites.

The Lake District - Another National Park added to the list, the Lake District is known for its walks and (duh) its boating. Plus, they offer a number of special events for families, as well as introductory sessions for adventure sports, like biking and boating.

ZENN And The Art of Environmental Maintenance

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 16:16:04 GMT

Ah, the electric car.

Its a name that rolls off an environmentalist tongue; almost a belief system, or a way of life. The electric car: clean, practical and giver of major green legitimacy points, it has been put down by car manufacturers for decades, and is slowly resurrecting itself to a new generation of petrol-price hating, earth-loving drivers.

Here in the US, it's still a fabulous novelty, and in Minnesota, where petrol prices hover around $4/gallon (we talked about this last time), the electric car, along with carpooling, public transport and good, old-fashioned staying home, has been given a lot of publicity in the last couple months.

Cushman Motors is one of Minneapolis's main retailers of the ZENN (stands for "Zero Emissions, No Noise"), and we wandered in to have a butcher's and see whether electric cars live up to their squeaky clean reputations.

The ZENN is manufactured in France, (the shell of the car comes from a French design), and Canada (where the battery technology and motor system is installed), and sold in more than 20 states, already. It goes no more than 35 miles per hour, and has a range between 30 to 40 miles on a full charge. Design-wise, it's a 2-seater that looks like a squat little Citroen, and the interior is simple but chic, with a gorgeous sun roof that tops almost the entire car.

Cushman Sales Representative Jon Ziegler says that the car fits under a specifically legislated motor category in the US - called an NEV (Neighbourhood Electric Vehicle) - which allows the car to be driven only within city limits, and therefore automatically fits into a certain demographic.

"Its for the urban commuter," he says, "The people we see are interested in saving money and being green."

Ziegler points to shopping trips, errands and getting to work in the city limits, and he acknowledges that most families still need to be able to drive a couple hours to Grandma's house, but that ZENN is still useful as a second car.

Plus, the ZENN is just-plain cheap to use. Sure, the overhead cost is around $18,000, but at around $50/month for battery maintenance (batteries need replacing every 3 years and the cost runs at about $5000), 2 cents per mile to operate (as devised from the cost of electricity to charge the battery), and no oil changes, new clutches or mufflers, the ZENN works out far more cost efficient than a car.

While ZENN doesn't export to the UK, Ziegler says that the UK already does a better job of maximising gas mileage, so any developments there would probably have a larger mileage range. And it's true: the UK allows about a dozen electric cars on its roads, and they range from the squat, best-selling GoinGreen G-Wiz (who gets up to 50mph and ranges 40-48 miles), to the hot little space-age GEM e2 (which could double as a golf-cart but has 4 seats and a range of 30 miles). In fact, like mobile phones, the electric car developments in the UK seem to be about 3 years ahead of the US (design and battery-wise, the phones here are awful. AWFUL.), which says a lot about the UK's priorities. In fact, I believe its telling me: its cheap, its cool, its clean - uh, why don't you have an electric car, yet?

A lot of people, though, says Ziegler, have to reprogramme themselves into the lifestyle of having an electric car - just remembering to charge it overnight, instead of pulling over to a petrol station, and forgetting that they can't take it on highways or very far away, and sometimes its a transition that people don't yet want to make. "The people that have the car range from people that take enjoyment out of finding new ways to do things, to people that use it out of necessity, " he says.

Still, while it doesn't seem practical for the suburbanites and their long-range commuting, Cushman's President, Timothy Commers, says that its still a good option for nipping around town. And, he says, they are a lot cleaner than those cute little diesel-guzzling Vespas.

"As people gain acceptance, suburban use will increase," he says. "It's a little bit of a leap of faith to invest in something that they can't use for everything, but you've got to determine if it does enough for you."

For those who are still unsure, however, Commers says that highway-ready electric cars are expected within 3-4 years, so if that 3-year-UK-to-US gap tells us anything, it means the UK might start rolling some off the line shortly.

For more info, check these out:

- ZENN (a flashy site with lots of info on the ZENN plus general electric car FAQs)

- The Green Car Site (Basic overview of electric cars avaliable in the UK)

- EVUK (An organisation campaigning for cleaner cars)

Rocking The Suburbs: Why A Bad Economy Loves The Planet

Sat, 19 Jul 2008 03:03:17 GMT

PHEW. I am back in the United States, after 5 months of travelling around South America. I would like to think of myself as a worldly, weathered person, but OHMYGOD I am so thankful for hot water and a bug-free bed right now. Right about the Atacama Desert I would have raped and pillaged for the chance to eat a salad that was certified Free Of Parasites And Other Diseases.

Yes, its been a blessed homecoming, and after departing the UK in February I have been looking very much to visiting my family and America at a very interesting time in history. Barack Obama is gearing up for a stomping presidential campaign this fall, and despite the downward spiral in the economy, the US is really attempting to do what it does best: come out with the goods in tough times.

Here, in the suburbs of Minneapolis, places are getting hit really hard. Jobs are dropping like flies, gas prices are soaring (okay, they are soaring for the US; they're still about half the price of the UK - but gas mileage is ATROCIOUS here. Yesterday we saw a car rental agency advertising a car that made - prepare to be wowed - a whopping 28 MPG; today at the DMV, when I was renewing my license, there was a man in front of me who was registering his SUV as off-the-road, because it was too expensive to drive), inflation is increasing the prices of groceries and other necessities, and people are clamping down like hell on their expenditures. Its isn't especially pretty, but you know what? It kind of rocks.

Two summers ago, when I was visiting my family, my mom dragged me along to her bank, which was about 6 miles away, through windy suburban roads. She parked, we went in, and then I noticed my bank was directly across the street. I thought I'd pop over and take care of some business, as I explained to my mom, and so she handed me her car keys.

"No, its fine," I laughed, "I'll walk. Its just across the street!"

She scoffed, "Megan, it's a two lane road. Don't walk. You'll get hollers."

I ignored her, as sometimes you are privy to do to mothers being silly, and walked outside. And sure enough, as I waited for traffic to clear so I could dash across, I got hollers and whistles and horns beeping at me, not to mention long stares, as people simply could not understand why a person would be outside walking, in this car-centric business district of the suburbs.

The suburbs, you see, although laid thick with perfect grass, studded with well-clipped shrubs, and lined with smooth sidewalks, are creatures of cars. The roads are wide and winding, taking the long-routes through fields re-developed into posh estates. Nothing is within walking distance, and there is few a suburb that is blessed with reliable public transportation. There are drive-thru everythings: ice-cream shops, grocery stores, chemists, Starbucks - even (and this is just silly) liquor stores. In Minnesota, it has partly to do with the weather, as no one wants to plod down to the liquor store when there is 12 feet of snow and the wind chill is at -35, but its no less lazy. I'll bet Russia doesn't have drive-thru liquor stores.

ANYWAYS, it was with great surprise then, today, that I observed a great number people outside. Walking. Or running! I even saw a man at the grocery store with his bike helmet, as if he had rode there to get groceries (the absurdity!!!)! I giggled at the sight of not one, but TWO people scootering around on wee little Vespas (a previously unseen speciality in these parts), and waves of joy poured over me at the sight of a man toddling away (by foot!) from the liquor store with a six-pack.

My god, the recession is doing amazing things to the American psyche's attitude to the environment (however indirectly), and and I am privileged to witness it firsthand! What will be next? A bus rumbling down my parent's culdesac? The light rail clinking past the golf course?

I can't wait.

Getting All Philosophical at Machu Picchu

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 22:17:26 GMT

Our South American adventure is drawing quickly to an close, and we are ending on the very high note of Machu Picchu. Seeing the 500-some-year-old "lost city" of the Incas has given us a lot to think about.

This great hidden fortress - which no one really knows how it was used and why it existed in the first place, and that wasn´t actually discovered until 1911 - is still as breathtaking as Hiram Bingham first describes it. Back then, although abandoned by the Incas, it was a well-sustained refuge: springs drew fresh water, and the hundreds of perfectly lined terraces supported llamas and alpacas and grew vegetables. It served obvious religious functions for the Incas, and provided them, nestled snugly on the crest of a mountain and encircled by river rapids, with a natural hiding place.

It is a great contrast, then, to see it crawling with adventure-hungry, picture-taking, tourists.

As we sat, sipping local coffee at the base-town of Aguas Calientes, it got us talking a lot about tourism, society, and colonialism. In fact, the very idea of westerners flocking in droves to this rural Peruvian outpost turned into a heated philisophical debate.

My thoughts: tourism has the terrible potential to turn into blatant colonialism, whereby local values and traditions are outmoded in favour of more westernised ones. Here in Aguas Calientes, old methods of farming, crafts and trading have been nearly completely lost to the tourism industry. To balance-out the culturally negative impact of tourism, in my mind, one must work to make a contribution to the towns visited, whether that be volunteering for or donating to local organisations that help preserve native ways of life.

Jon`s thoughts: being a tourist in a foreign country that struggles with poverty does a lot to improve local living standards. By staying at local hostels, eating at local restaurants, and taking local transport, one adds to the resources of the village, thereby improving lives.

As you can imagine, though, there are pros and cons to each argument, and as Jon and I discussed them, we came to an interesting revelation, as gleaned in part by a movie (somehow involving a saber tooth tiger) Jon watched on one of our ungodly-long bus journeys.

To summarise: people draw circles around themselves, in which they decide what to care about and who to care for. For some, the circle is very small and around themselves or their careers. For others, it is drawn around friends, family and local communities. For yet others, their circle encompasses large issues on a much bigger, global scale.

For me, my circle is naturally drawn around my community, where issues impact me more closely and where I feel I can make a more impactful contribution. For Jon, as an abstract, big-picture thinker, he feels comfortable drawing his circle much wider and acknowledging his contributions might be more dynamic and indirect. In short, he feels satisfied with the efforts we have made to go good social and environmental deeds - however indirectly through local businesses - while I feel less satisfied because I have not gotten to know communities as closely as my circle is drawn.

(Case in point: my most fulfilling experience on this trip has been spending a month living with a family in Buenos Aires and learning about the city`s dog problem. Jon´s was learning two languages so he was able to communicate on a broad level.)

While we spoke a lot of social issues in our dinner debate (which, as I´ve mentioned here before are NOT mutually exclusive from environmental ones), it is important to put this in perspective of environmental travelling.

It seems that nowadays our environmental circles are pushed wider and wider, as we grapple with the loose and very big problems of global warming, the oil crisis, and water shortages. In truth, (an inconvenient truth, perhaps?) acknowledging these international issues is important, as it reminds us that our individual actions impact the world. Yet, if you are more like me, perhaps you desire to make good environmental decisions and contribute to conservation or preservation on a more local level.

As a traveller, this is especially tough because time is short and an introduction to a place is often at a very superficial level. Even for us, who have worked hard to research a greener way of travelling, the decisions we make are often very indirect and marred by other consquences. Sure, we took the train to Machu Picchu because we didn`t want to add to the erosion and over-population of an already very fragile trail and eco-system, but the train is an energy hog and questionably exploitative of its workers. So is our good deed cancelled out?

There is no clear answer. But perhaps, for me, a good direction is simply more staying-put.

I don`t mean, as some people have commented, that I should swap the splendours of a trip to South America for a walking holiday in Wales - or, as some others suggest, heading back to England and unpacking my bags. That`s not quite my style, and it would make a pretty lame green travel blog.

What I mean is, some of my best times and biggest lessons learned on this trip have been when we have stuck around long enough in a place to look a little deeper, explore a little further, and understand it a bit more. In terms of environmental travel, this is both practical and cheap, as less moving around does mean less environmental impact (and fewer bus tickets!).

For example, today, while many of our fellow travellers shot back to Cusco after their day on the ruins, Jon and I took a day to hang out in the gorgeous village of Ollantaytambo. We wandered up the Incan ruins that line the surrounding mountains, ate lunch at a wonderful little restaurant, and then decided to try to find our way to the Urubamba River. Asking locals, we were pointed across huge crests of fields, where we wandered into a group of men plowing with two brutish oxen, who offered us a place in the shade and a cup of Chicha (the local corn liquor). We declined for reasons of antibiotics, but we watched for awhile, had a small chat, and then walked further, where we stumbled upon a group of newly excavated Incan ruins. Some small kids were playing nearby, and helped guide us around the ruins and down to the river.

It was such a simple day - one not recommended by the Lonely Planet but found by sheer curiosity and goodwill - and I am proud to have stuck around long enough to have experienced it.

It made me think about Hiram Bingham, who first found Machu Picchu. He came across it while hanging out in Peru (researching the country`s liberator Simon Bolivar), all thanks to the help of a local boy, who led him there. I wonder, had Bingham been the fly-by-night sort of traveller, if Machu Picchu would still be overgrown and little known. I also wonder, if Bingham hadn´t wandered into a local boy and followed his lead, if Machu Picchu would be the breath-taking discovery that it is today, however debatedly the overcrowding and westernisation.

Our debate goes on, but in the next few months, during the Canadian and US portion of this trip, I am hoping to utilise a steady home and a bicycle and explore some of America´s most definitive environmental issues (and there are MANY). I would love to hear your thoughts and suggestions!

The Short Homeopathy Helper

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 19:06:12 GMT

I haven't been feeling great, lately.

Actually, I have been feeling fairly awful, and a few nights ago I was admitted to hospital in Cusco with a gut-wrenching combo of Salmonella and Giardia. It hasn't been pretty, and considering I've been fairly resistant to other South American diseases thus far (for almost five months!), it was a large blow to my health-esteem to know I was just as susceptible as the average Joe Backpacker.

As I am somewhat immobile at present, though, I thought this would be a good time to take a look at some aspects of natural medicine, especially considering how widespread the notion is, in Peru. Personally, while I have always enjoyed my green tea and boasted the benefits of dark chocolate, I have a hard time acknowledging certain aspects of homeopathy, especially when there are so many good medications available (Night Nurse, anyone?). Still, as I am striving to live as a more environmentally-sound traveler, here, there is always more for me to learn and explore.

Apparently, though, it seems I might be in the skeptical minority, as the hostel in which I am currently residing is probably the most hippy-tastic hostel in all of Peru. Large signs advertise Ayahuasca and San Pedro tours, whereby tourists can spend three hallucinogenic days in the mountains, pondering their existence, healing themselves, and, like, the world, man.

ANYWAYS, here is a not-at-all-exhaustive guide to homeopathic travel-related illness remedies, which I have gleaned from personal use, recommendations from other travelers, and guides.

Altitude Sickness:
I'll start with the obvious: coca. Fresh, dried, made into teas and supplements, candies and garnishes, the coca leaf is big in Peru. It dates back to pre-Incan times, and is thought to have been used for more than 3000 years for help with long treks through the Andes, to help people overcome the altitude, and long periods of hunger and thirst. As it constricts blood vessels, modern science has also found uses for it in anaesthetics, asthma, digestion and headaches - oh, and, of course, as an aphrodisiac. Although you might be more familiar with the white, powdered, rather illegal variety, in fact, the coca leaf is just its milder, friendlier, more natural relation. While trekking through the Colca Canyon, I tried the tea, the candy, and even stuck a few of the dried leaves up in my gums, with the most significant result being I forgot about all the hard work and strenuous breathing, and was better able to just enjoy the view. Although the legality of coca is constantly in question, there are websites that ship teas and supplements to the UK, despite customs restrictions.

Other, legal, natural options to help altitude-related sickness include cloves, garlic, and ginko, although a less holistic person might just opt for a Coca-Cola.

Diarrhea:
The reoccurring nemesis of the traveler's life, diarrhea usually is symptomatic of a more serious illness, and should generally be checked out if happening frequently and violently. To reduce the symptoms and rehydrate, however, there are a number of homeopathic remedies that help. Here in Peru, I have been told to try a number of things, including regular black tea, cooked apples, and rice-water. Some more interesting suggestions have been cooked carrots and pomegranate (respectively). What's worked for me is is a combination of fresh apple juice (the foamy kind), soda crackers and avoiding any kind of dairy. Oh, the antibiotics and anti-parasite drugs have helped, too...

Constipation:
On the other aspect of traveler woes is our friend, All Bunged Up. Odd diets, alcohol and altitude can all affect digestion, and while there a number of remedies, the best suggestion I've had is to avoid any type of laxative (lest you begin the dreaded bunged-up-then-the-runs-then-bunged-up cycle), and seriously pack in the fiber. Prunes, raisins, apricots - suck 'em down and let them do the dirty work. One tip though: they do really work. So keep a bathroom near.

Sunburn:
Aloe Vera is the clearly the winner in this homeopathy spectrum, although there are several other plants that have proven abilities to soothe the skin. Cucumber and witch hazel, the former of which you just cut open and apply, and the latter of which you can buy from the chemist, in a solution. Your best bet, of course, is to avoid sun exposure and don't get burned in the first place, but I'm sure you remember your mother telling you that once or twice.

Spiritual Healing:
Finally, a nod to the hippies, with the San Pedro Cactus. Used for Incan religious practices, divination and healing, the cactus is better known by modern culture as an hallucinogen, although its medicinal uses stretch far beyond that. Various cactus parts are used to treat high blood pressure, heart problems, and even drug addiction (not sure how that works!), and is still used by local Shamans for reading spirits. If you want to try the, uh, more psychedelic properties of San Pedro, though, you might want to book a flight to Peru, because while raising the cactus is legal in most countries, cultivating the mescaline is generally not. While I have not tried the more spiritual aspect of San Pedro, I have tried its cousin fruit, the Zancajo, a relative of the Prickly Pear, which is said to help depression, and let me tell you: it's excellent chopped up with a bit of ice and some Pisco.

Other natural, spiritual medicines include the well-known Peyote and Ayahuasca, although I'm sure I need to add that I don't promote or condone the use of these, although my old friend Carlos might have a few things to say about them.

Deep In The Canyon, Sustainable Life

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 16:28:33 GMT

We went down into the Colca Canyon to learn about sustainable life.

Arguably the deepest canyon in the world (at 3180 metres from rim to base - competing only with neighbouring Cotahuasi canyon in a number of recent surveys), the Colca Canyon is an arrid compression of slippery sandstone and spikey volcanic shale, where villages balance on sheer precipices, appearing ready to slide off into the stoney, turquoise river, below at any moment. It is a place where terraces spread out across every metre of available semi-horizontal space, climbing up high into the Andean hillsides. It is where narrow pathways wind across sheer cliffs, where people walk and climb the switchbacks for hours to get to school, to buy groceries, and visit the doctor.

The Colca Canyon is a magical, fantastic combination of inhospitable land and resourceful people, and there is much to learn about sustainable life from those who live there.

A six-hour trek down from the one-road, tourist town of Cabonaconde lie the remote villages of San Juan de Chuccho, Cosñirhua, and Tapay. Here, the rocks of the canyon give way to thick green patches of grass, blooming gardens and a bounty of ripened fruit trees. Thanks to centuries of ingenious irrigation, narrow streams divert into the hillsides of these villages, giving the townspeople fresh-water enough for farming fruits and vegetables. Unlike the villages set at the top of the canyon, who use similar systems to farm maize, wheat and rye on their wide terraces, the villages inside the canyon don't have the space or animals needed for ploughing, and so have lived for hundreds of years on an exchange policy: they provide the high villages (like Cabanaconde) with fruit and vegetables, and trade them for the grains and pulses they can't grow themselves.

For these remote villages, life has gone on as such for centuries. Many of the terraces in the area are dated pre-Inca, and, in fact, the Colca Canyon was a well-known stop on the Inca Trail to the sacred Mount Ampato, where the Incas made human sacrifices to garner luck with the gods.

In Cosñirhua, where we spent an evening with a family, the few technological improvements they have embraced include metal roofs (as opposed to ones comprised of grass, wood and alpaca leather), electricity (installed only one year ago), and hot water (created through solar-heated black & metal tanks perched on rooftops). Here, the people know hard work. They spend their days harvesting fruit, vegetables, or picking the cochineal cactus parasite, which they sun-dry to make an infamous crimson dye. They make the steep, two-hour journey to the top of the canyon to sell, trade, or just visit friends or family, helped sometimes by mules, but always with their thick wool mantas tied to their backs. Despite the altitude and the work, though, many villagers live into their hundreds. Our guide, a Cabanaconde native, boasted of his 105-year-old grandfather, who was still hard at work as a village shaman.

It seems the mountain spirits are still highly involved with life in the canyon, as villagers regularly tie flowers to small shrines and climb high to leave offerings for luck and to ward off earthquakes, landslides and drought. While tourists consider it a cute, quaint practice, it actually exemplifies the strong belief the Colca people have in their land and lifestyle. While many tourists come to walk the various treks, the incredible landscape means that paved roads, and even cars themselves, are a rather useless commodity, and therefore much of the development that has compromised the Inca Trail and Machu Pichu has yet to affect the Colca. So the people, despite electricity and a pair of trainers, are still really living mostly the same way their ancestors did.

What impresses me most with the people of the Colca Canyon, is just the sheer, beautiful simplicity of it all. They farm only enough to live on and to trade with the high villages, they have mules and alpacas or llamas to help carry and eat (respectively), and they use their own feet and hands for most of their work. They enjoy well-rooted traditions (not to mention gorgeous costumes), and deeply respect the canyon and its landscape. Their lives aren't confused with questions about their carbon footprint or whether or not to buy a hybrid; they just live so closely to the environment that they know how very precious its resources are.

Sure, its by no means perfect - the children walk hours for school, with only fifty percent of the village children carrying on into secondary school, and, of course, many villagers struggle with health and poverty issues - but it remains an everlasting testament to sustainability. The well-groomed terraces and narrow mountain paths speak out across centuries, and for me, its a strong, but simple message: respect for the landscape, and modesty in the use of its riches.

Life in Water/Water in Life

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 20:54:18 GMT

It was interesting when, on the first day we arrived in the world's driest desert, it rained.

As we wandered around a dusty San Pedro de Atacama, I glanced above to see thick puffs of dark cloud spreading over the seemingly endless horizon. I summoned all my karmic energies and imagined the skies bursting open and streams of that heavenly nectar spreading out over the sand, as deep green shoots of grass popped up before my very eyes. It would have been the very biblical climax of my green-focused time, here in South America.

"Oh ye fertile ground, spring forth!" I would yell, and then I would wave my hands not unlike a character in Harry Potter. Magic. Green bliss.

Yet, it seems my chronic over-tipping hasn't reached those levels of karmic bliss, because as our guide warned of us a storm, the only thing to pelt me as we climbed into the crest overlooking Death Valley were a few stray rocks and one or two raindrops which might or might not have been from my foamy altitude-related gasps. Surprisingly, the hoards didn't crowd out onto the streets and gape, like they do when it snows in London.

No, the clouds only spit out a few raindrops, here or there, on the many miles of dry, barren land, and it made me wonder how a place like this - where, in fact, some of the weather stations have never recorded rain - can support life. Tourists from all around the world flock there to walk on the salt plains, over-photograph the flamingos, and linger before the gurgling geysers, not to mention all those from Chile and elsewhere that have moved to the desert to start tourism-related businesses, and yet all that sand doesn't make a case for supporting such a large community. Signs are posted everywhere admonishing the use of water for cleaning cars and sidewalks, and begging visitors to keep their showers short.

The Atacama, however, is perhaps far more attune to one of the most increasing environmental problems, and arguably the most serious: the water crisis.

According to UK charity Water Aid, around 2.6 billion people on this live without fresh water sanitation, with an estimated 5,000 children dying each day from unclean-water related diarrhea; the World Bank says that 88% of diseases are caused by dirty drinking water. Not having clean water is one of the main root causes of poverty, disease, and even political conflict, and as drought and overpopulation on the increase, fresh water is becoming a prized resource.

Green Miles guest-blogger (and husband) Jon recently read an article about an eccentric investor from Texas named T. Boone Pickens. Pickens is known for throwing down money on hot new investments, and one of his most recent acquisitions has environmentalists stomping their feet. Pickens bought-up 2,000 acres of land in rural Texas, under which is the Ogallala Aquifer, a well-known under-water lake which spreads across central America and holds, according to the US Geological Survey, about 2,925 million acre feet of water (down 253 million acre feet since they started pumping it in the 50s). Ogallala is one of the US's most important sources of fresh water, and Picken's plans to pump the water from his property to various drought-ridden, overpopulated Texas cities, while appeasing the green-squad by also making the land into a wind farm. But here is where it gets interesting: accessing the Aquifer is allowed only by public vote, and so those residents within the related district were called to cast their ballots. Strangely, there were only two residents in the area, and therefore only to who approved the decision to start privately pumping the aquifer. Who were they? Picken's ranch manager, and his wife.

Some experts are predicting things like Pickens is doing: a world where water has become the new oil; where it is mined and bought and sold and rationed and paid handsomely for; where it causes wars and directs politics. In many countries already, from Australia to Singapore, water is already being desalinised and treated and resold to consumers more expensively.

It all sounds very 1984, but after witnessing a place like San Pedro spring up around grass and fruit trees that fed from the same tiny thermal stream; after meeting a traveler who had been sick for months with Giardiasis, who was gaunt with being unable to eat, all from (what he thought) was a poor town in Bolivia; and after watching the trucks rumble through Atacama with cases of bottled water, sold to tourists (of course) at a premium, its hard not to see these horrible predictions ringing true.

If only I could cast my magic Harry Potter karma towards America's aquifers and Chile's thermal streams, and send the water bubbling up from under ground. Magic. Green bliss.

Until then, and to help keep people like Pickens at bay, we've poled some fellow travelers, and here are a combined list of ways to save water. We won't reveal who has stopped showering, and we will warn you that some are, um, more practical, than others:

- Don't shower. Because that's what deo is for.
- Stop shaving. It saves lots of water, and having lots of hair is cool. Plus, if you're a woman, you never get that prickly leg thing.
- On & Off Showering. It goes like this: On for rinsing. Off for soaping. On for rinsing. Off for shampoo. On for rinsing. Etc. Etc.
- Eat more fruit & veg. They say you should drink 8-10 glasses of water a day, but if you're eating enough fruit & veg, you don't need that much.
- Don't fill the kettle. Fill up only what you need. I think you remember TV adverts somewhere along those lines?
- Forget the garden. Or better yet, plant drought-hearty plants like aloe vera, various succulents, palms. Or hearty fruit trees, like quince and pomegranate.
- And also forget the car. Or if you are really fussed, then keep a small bucket that catches rain water (but empty often, to prevent mosquitos!)

Drowning Out 'Green Noise' with Ground Rules

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 18:40:36 GMT

This article about 'Green Noise' in the New York Times really pressed my buttons.

The issue of too much conflicting green information - much like there is too much conflicting health information - is one growing slowly into a maddening, dizzying, phenomenally over-advertised media spectacle: Recycle. Don't recycle because it never actually gets recycled. Reuse plastic bags. No, just don't use them. Use your own bags, instead, but make sure they aren't made of plastic but fair-trade, organically grown cotton with biodegradable paint that can be composted once broken.

Yes, the piles of steaming hypocrisy and misinformation are high and wide in our new greener world, and its easy to drown in the debate - not more so in the issue of travel and environmentalism.

Should you fly, or drive, or take the train? Should you stay in one place? Should you stay at a locally run hostel, or an international one that recycles and uses long-life light bulbs? Should you use a diesel-guzzling city bus, or a hybrid taxi? Should you cook your own food and chuck away your leftovers, or eat at restaurants? Should you shop at environmentally questionable local venues, or hit up more respectable chains?

In the bigger picture: can you be environmentally minded and travel? And how, exactly, do you travel in an environmentally-friendly way?

These are all questions I, through experience, am trying to find answers to, but the answers themselves conflict on multiple levels and, most interestingly, I've found, vary person to person.

The very idea of this blog, itself, to some people, is a bit of a oxymoron (how can you travel AND be green?), and the responses to it have run the emotional gamut. One or two readers have suggested that, instead of traveling abroad, I should have taken a nice walking holiday in the UK. But should I have driven there, or taken the train? And should I have camped and saved electricity (but been harsher to the natural environment thanks to my waste and fire remains), or should I have stopped off at a quaint local b&b whose cute old building has an atrociously high heating bill? In any case, I am forced to make a decision that will send opinions multiple ways, and the same is true for my fellow travelers.

Most of the backpackers I have met seem to care, at some level, about their environmental impact, and in many cases naturally opt for the greener way - that is, as most of the time the greener way tends to be the cheaper way: packing lightly, going via bus, staying at local hostels, and sightseeing by foot. Still, many turn a blind eye to their more damning actions, including the copious amounts of waste they produce, and the cut-throat, as-cheap-as-they-can-get-it attitude they have towards local businesses and tour companies.

In some senses, though, and as a person making those exact same day-to-day decisions, I can wholly empathise. To spend your days evaluating, and re-evaluating your green travel-related decisions (or, if you're at home, your day-to-day green decisions) is mentally taxing and, lets be honest, totally ridiculous. You don't have the time to sit down and research which hostel is going to be the greenest, and is locally run; you shouldn't have to continually worry, from city to city, whether your produce was organic and fair-trade; and you might as well stay in England and take a nice walking holiday if you are going to try to figure out which bus company has the cleanest environmental record. In foreign countries who care less about the environment that Europe and the rest of the "first world", finding out that kind of information - and following through with the most environmentally sound option, is sometimes simply impossible.

As someone who's job it is to try to figure out this whole 'green travel' conundrum, however, I have given up the daily struggle and set myself some easy ground rules, which help both alleviate the worry of traveling green, and some of the the stress of traveling, in general. We can't always stick to these, as sometimes its just not technically possible, but generally they steer us towards a greener, and healthier way of traveling.

They aren't rocket science, and they certainly aren't new or unique, but I hope these help drown out the green noise in your life, as well. Let me know what you think - and if you have any other travel ground rules you stick by!

Megan's General Ground Rules for Green Travel:

- When you can, plan ahead. This solves the problem of being tired and hungry and pouncing on the first option you come across, and regretting it later.
- But be okay with altering plans. Sometimes the best options just aren't in the Lonely Planet.
- Resolve to walk, always. When you can walk anywhere, do it, no excuses. Next best option? Rent a bike.
- Don't buy it. Everything you buy needs carrying, and that sucks. So just don't.
- If you do buy it, then buy local. Seek out crafts that are made by the seller, and local market stalls and restaurants for food.
- Take your time. Rushing through countries and continents is gas-guzzling, expensive, and, in my opinion, a big waste of a good holiday. Get to know one or two places really well, rather than seeing the bus station and main tourist attractions of many.
- Donate to grassroots projects you have seen and believe in. It feels much better, and more fulfilling, than throwing money at carbon-offsetting companies.
- Ask. Because more than pretty sunsets, its about meeting people and experiencing cultures, and you don't find that in the Shoestring. Your best bet is always to cobble together your best of their native tongue, be brave, and ask locals. They will know far more than any guidebook (or green blog!) will ever tell you - and you will more than likely appreciate the interaction.