Sarah Kelnhofer

Outdoors columnist

Sarah Coleman Kelnhofer writes from College Place, where she and her husband strive to tame their half-acre of wilderness while their children try to reclaim it. Last year, she even grew pansies – in a secret location – hidden from the local wildlife.

Recent Stories

The shopping truth: Unearthing an unforeseen treasure

Soon after entering college, I discovered what would become a lifelong passion. Necessity (in the form of a shriveled bank account) combined with my newfound mobility to provide fuel for my fresh love, and before long, I joined the ragtag ranks of those who boasted the finds they discovered while “thrifting.”

Going to the chapel: Merry, not harried, the name of the game

Preparing five people to participate in an out-of-town wedding provides ample opportunity for frustration.

Familiarity breeds content: Married dating still a worthy adventure

Morning arrives early when you’ve got a date with self-discipline.

Despite disruptions, annual garden fervor sprouts and thrives

The small nature child perched on my right shoulder rolls her eyes and jabs me to make my standard rebuttal. “It’s more than a hobby, it’s a lifestyle. And it’s good for our health!”

Frost's poem offers a timely reminder

“How do I connect a ‘b’ to an ‘e’?” Summer’s voice jars me back to the present, and I look up with vacant eyes.

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Blustery weather at Hat Rock outing makes for sunny memories

“Can I just sit in the car while you walk?” Jared voices the very idea I’ve been hatching, and I frown.

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Minimizing clutter means messy business for mom

I decompress by picking bits of lint and sticky pennies from the allergen host formerly known as my carpet.

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The 2014 Super Bowl was full of surprises

This year I should get into the spirit. It’s our team — our moment! I try to muster some spunk, but instead, sense a yawn coming on.

Return to walk routine a milestone on road to recovery

Routine. It’s a word (and a reality) I typically dread. Although I know full well that certain rhythms keep life ticking smoothly along, most repetitive activities reduce me to agony.

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Lost Lake is a gift that lingers through the holidays

Low clouds slink across the sky as we bounce toward Lost Lake Campground in the Okanogan National Forest. We’re all a little nervous about the prospect of rain, but it’s not often we get to convene a gathering of cousins and we’re not about to back down. The late-summer scenery looks tired and thirsty — the bright green of spring replaced with a dust-covered drab that tells me how welcome the moisture would be.

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