Just a few days ago, in a widely reported story, things did get out of hand when a crowd of Sherpas fought with three foreign climbers in a dispute over fixing ropes on the route high up the mountain. In a story for National Geographic News, Brot Coburn provides good context for understanding the relationship between Sherpas and foreign climbers, one that has been and continues to be positive in almost all respects. Jon Krakauer’s bestselling book from 1997, Into Thin Air, illustrates how badly things can go wrong when the mountain gets crowded and the weather changes.

But most of us don’t need to worry about the crush of climbers on the route above base camp. Elite mountaineers climb, the rest of us hike — or trek, as they say in Nepal.

John Flinn wrote recently in the San Francisco Chronicle about his return to the Khumbu, the local name for the Everest region, after 22 years. His story, “Into Thin Hair” (retitled on the Chronicle website) brought back memories of my treks in the area, the first in 1979, the most recent in 2002. As John conveys, if he can do it, you can do it.

That’s how I feel about my treks there. If you take your time, don’t push yourself, and get into reasonably good shape before you go, you should be fine. John sure got me interested in returning. The thin air, indescribably dramatic mountains, and welcoming Sherpa culture are heady stuff. Not to be treated as a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

There are the famous routes to Coit Tower where one can catch a glimpse of the Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill, and the now famous Mosaic Stairs in Golden Gate Heights. Although not as crowded as say, Lombard (the crookedest street in the west), these top stairwalks can be bustling.

Instead, grab Adah Bakalinsky’s stairwalk bible, now in it’s 20th edition, and explore some of the more quirky areas. The book offers up the popular routes, but many of the stairways highlighted are tranquil spots, used only by locals and known only to a handful of people. Most walks take no more than an hour and string a number of staircases in a neighborhood together, with informative descriptions of the history, architecture and flora and fauna of the area.

Together, families can explore the nooks and crannies of this great city. My family often decides on a route and picks a restaurant or café in the area to make our ultimate destination. Avid hikers, we love to take our boys on treks outside the city, often inspiring them with treats or the prospect of counting banana slugs. Some days however, we just can’t get out of town, but want an outdoor activity that feels like a hike. Then we reach for our stairwalk book and pack a few snacks and layers of clothing.

One time it was dumping rain and each with an umbrella in tow, we geared ourselves up for the urban adventure. With each stairwalk we discover unique and unusual surprises, including hummingbirds, caterpillars, amanita muscaria mushrooms, blackberries, glorious flowers in bloom, secret cottages with magical gardens, never-before-seen views, maniacal exercisers and even a friendly kitty who followed us for blocks.

Most of these walks can be accessed by MUNI or BART (public transportation) and all can be great activities for out of town guests and spry grandparents.  Many walks include benches or vista spots where one can catch one’s breath. These stairwalks are particularly great options when kids are portable, either in backpacks or frontal carriers. Take photos of your stairwalk and add them to a Flickr pool.

Here are a few of our recent favorites:

Telegraph Hill: The popular Filbert and Greenwich Street staircases leading up to Coit Tower.

Highlights: Gardens full of roses and irises and trees filled with the loud and colorful wild parrots and views of the Bay Bridge. At the top visit Coit Tower!

Begin the walk at: (down) Telegraph Hill Blvd and either Filbert or Greenwich streets; (up) Sansome Street at Filbert or Greenwich.

Upper Market: The Saturn and Vulcan stairways lead through the residential neighborhood above the Castro district.

Highlights: Quirky cottages where residents share a stairway with no street access and views of the city streets below. Look for a giant statue-less pedestal.

Begin walk at: Levant Street near Lower Terrace.

Mt. Davidson: Covered with eucalyptus forest, Mt. Davidson is the highest point in San Francisco at 927 feet and the site of the controversial mammoth Easter cross. In 1997, the cross was purchased for $26,000 by The Council of Armenian American Organizations of Northern California, which placed a bronze plaque at the base memorializing the victims of the 1915 Armenian genocide. Sadly, there are often beer bottles and trash around the place since certain locals take advantage of the isolated park.

Highlights: Views of the city, a real sense of wilderness, blackberry bushes, wildflowers and the cross at the top! It can be muddy in the rainy season, so wear good hiking shoes.

Begin walk at: The bus stop (at the junction of Dalewood and Lansdale) and head up the unsigned but obvious trail.

If you’re looking for a getaway, outdoor fun, sun, and maybe some wine tasting, the small town of Los Gatos is a great choice. Set in the foothills of the Santa Cruz Mountains, this affluent hamlet, with a Victorian downtown, is a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of urban living. As you drive into town, you pass Netflix headquarters, and you realize, this is perhaps where the 1% live, a notion that was confirmed at the stylish Purple Onion Café, where at 10 a.m., the place was hopping with expensively clad moms chatting and nibbling, post workout. The Illy coffee and yummy breakfast items made with cage-free eggs, local produce, and freshly baked whole-grain breads were tantalizing.

For lunch, a traditional Irish pub with Americanized pub grub, was a more down home option. C.B. Hannegan’s was bustling with business folks and families; the outdoor garden was so pleasant and portions big enough to share. The beer choices were impressive and International, with 15 on draught.

Another must dine spot, great if you’re on your way to Santa Cruz, is The Cats Restaurant and Tavern, just off highway 17. Originally a pit stop on the old stage line, the Cats Roadhouse was once a welcome spot for horse-drawn lumber wagons on their way to San Jose, as well as a rowdy social club for locals.  In the Roaring 20s, the Cats was one of the area’s most notorious speakeasies and bordellos! Renovated and reopened in 2008, the menu still features BBQ favorites and is certainly a crowd pleaser after a day at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk or hiking the mountains!

Camping options abound. Two of my favorites are Big Basin Redwoods State Park and Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. It can get cold under the redwoods, so pack accordingly!

Finally, if you want to splurge, a stay at the Mediterranean boutique hotel and spa, Hotel Los Gatos, is quite a treat. The pool is small but with mosaic tiles and an ample hot tub, a perfect spot early morning, midday or at night for a dip and soak. The hotel has a Moorish feel mixed with California Mission, and the rooms were luxurious but in a cozy way.

Mediterranean food is one of my favorite cuisines, and I have to say since I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area nearly 20 years ago I have been on a constant hunt for Greek Cuisine from high-end to gyros. Dio Deka, fine Hellenic cuisine, really lived up to its Michelin Star hype. The food, ambiance, presentation and service were really top notch, from the marinated kalamata olives in chili and rosemary to the spanikopita, pork ribs and these delectable crispy potatoes with smoked roe.

The wine list was overwhelming, but we chose a crisp New Zealand white and sat out, talking and savoring the special tastes, as if we were on the island of Santorini or an Athens plaza. I took a close friend to celebrate a recent triumph, but I could imagine taking my two boys there, all rumpled in their “fancy” clothes, perhaps for a special occasion. Luckily there are plenty of tapas-like options I think many older kids would appreciate, if your budget allows.

All in all, if you’re looking for a staycation in the Bay Area, a romantic getaway, a taste of “Peninsula living” or an overnight splurge, the combination of great food and wine, ample hiking and biking spots and wineries galore, make a trip to Los Gatos, the Cat’s Meow!

We are headed to a house, inaccessible by road in winter. Set on 100 acres of land, the generosity of the owners allows us to live out my alpine fantasies.  We snowshoe or ski one mile into the house, carrying backpacks and pulling a sled full of all our gear, food and an occasional small child.

As I write, a few loaves of Swedish bread are in the oven baking for the trip. Thoughts of chopping down our own Christmas tree and frying latkes for Chanukah at altitude dance in my head.

My mind wanders to a book I just read my youngest son. Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder, of Little House on the Prairie fame, is a classic. Even though I read it as a child, and was a big fan of the TV show in my youth, reading it aloud to my son was inspiring all over again. To live off the land, reap what you sow, eat with the seasons and really earn your keep has a lot of appeal these days. Even though we’re going off the grid, it will be far less arduous than what the Ingalls and Wilder families experienced more than 150 years ago.

If, like me, you are taken with the books and history of the time, you can visit the Wilder Homestead (boyhood home of Almanzo, Laura’s future husband) in Malone, NY, near the Canadian border. One winter scene, from the book, sticks in my mind… as the young boy, his father and two hired men cut ice from the frozen lake to store and keep food fresh for the year. They literally cut thick blocks of ice from the surface of the lake and haul them back to the shed on sleds. Almanzo falls in accidentally and narrowly escapes death.

The blizzards described in the book series sound so epic. As I read this book I wondered if winters in the Upstate region are still as harsh, given climate change. This is a photo of pond hockey in the Lake Placid region.

Recent articles in the New York Times speak of fir and spruce trees dying out in the Catskills, apple orchard varieties diminished and less productive dairy farms in the region.

The Adirondacks — host to two winter Olympics — in the future, may not be the winter paradise they once were, as snow and ice have become less intense during the winter months. Lake Champlain, a popular vacation spot that divides New York and Vermont, used to freeze over completely every winter. Now, some years, milder winters keep it unfrozen in the middle. Flooding from the August tropical storm Irene was a harbinger of things to come.

Despite all of this depressing information, and news that our destination in the Sierras has very little snow as of today, makes me wistful… but come hell or high water, I plan to live out my winter wonderland fantasy nonetheless.

We drove through Yosemite a few weekends ago. It was packed with summer travelers and waterfall gawkers. The major falls are glorious, and fuller than they have been in years. New, smaller falls have even appeared much to the delight of park goers.

As we drove through the park, out past Mono Lake, we were stunned by the high water levels and snowy peaks in early July. We laughed, thinking that we could even cross-country ski in some spots above 7000 feet.

Record snowfalls this winter and heavy unseasonable rain in summer have made conditions epic for nature lovers but also hazardous.

Yosemite is drawing crowds, and visitors to the park should exercise caution while viewing the many falls and swollen creeks and rivers. Since June, there have been at least two people confirmed dead and two missing and presumed dead. The park has banned water rafting on the Merced River until the flows subside to their normal levels.

My son and a group of friends made the trek to Wapama Falls, a wonderful hike which wraps around the Hetch Hetchy reservoir. The photos were astounding, but just days later a Doctor and a friend, both experienced backpackers, were swept away by the torrents when crossing a small footbridge.  Sobering for the folks who took my son, who in hindsight, were fearful of the awesome cascade.

As we made our way back to the Sierras, we stayed at a friend’s house near Kirkwood Ski Resort. I took a short walk, alone, down to the “creek,” heretofore a tiny trickle, where as toddlers, my kids frolicked. At nearly 8,000 feet in elevation, the mule ears were just sprouting and snow patches still remained in early July. I decided to cross the creek and make a circle. Quickly I aborted my attempt. This repeated several times as the current was just too treacherous. I realized I was on my own and if swept away, it would not be a good scene.  I finally found a reasonable crossing point, and with numb legs and feet, made my way to the other side. Not only is the water higher, but it felt colder.

A recent article by Jane Brody in the New York Times Science section offers simple, but useful tips for both beach and mountain water fun. So get out and enjoy the majesty, but respect the elements and have caution!

Sand between my toes, melting popsicles, chlorine-y or salty hair, ripe tomatoes, fresh corn, eating outdoors, thunderstorms and fireflies—a few of my East Coast childhood summer memories. The idea of fireflies, or lightning bugs, as they are sometimes called, is just so charming, and in some ways a symbol of a simpler time. No iPhones or email, no TiVo or Internet, just a bug catcher and a jar….

Fireflies are everywhere this June. My kids listen to about 10 songs, as much as I try to curate their musical tastes, they’ll have to discover their own style. One of their favorites right now is Fireflies by Owl City. It’s a sweet song and the lyrics are very uncontroversial. My husband is also hooked on an old TV series called Firefly dubbed an America Space Western, by those in the know. Add to that, a great little restaurant, Firefly, in San Francisco, that we love…and then I came across this New York Times article about fireflies drawing hordes of tourists in Tennessee. This was the antidote to fast-paced modern life I needed to read about.

Apparently, there is a light show every night at this time of year in Elkmont, Tennessee near Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Folks gather at a trail head with camping chairs and wait for the Mother Nature’s ritual performance. Called “mind-blowing,” “a silent symphony” and likened to the aurora borealis or a solar eclipse, this is no small show.

You don’t have to be a science geek to enjoy the spectacle. Elkmont’s firefly population is the largest in the Western hemisphere. So thick are the masses of bugs that you have to carve your way around them. There is concern that all the attention will cause ill-effects for the bugs. But for now, the two-week annual engagement is sold out…or at least feeding visitors’ need to enjoy natural phenomenon.

100 miles north of San Francisco, the drive takes a good three hours if you take time to gawk at the Oscar winning coastline. We often stop in Bodega Bay for a fish and chips or clam chowder lunch to break up the drive. This time, my seven-year-old discovered he gets carsick, and if you are prone to motion sickness this drive will surely bring it on.

Sea Ranch was a pioneering eco-community begun in the late ’60s and early ’70s. The connection between the landscape and the architecture is beautiful and certainly contributes to the serenity of the place. I dislike gated communities or housing developments in general, but this place really has captured the benefits of a uniform style with strong community ethos. The sometimes simple, sometimes elaborate wood-frame structures were inspired by the local ranches and are designed to cope with the weather and integrate well with the topography.

We were invited to a beautiful rental house with our friends and planned a feast of a menu; after all, you work up an appetite strolling along the rugged coast. Our friends always insist on renting a house with a hot tub with a view of the sea and I must say, taking a dip with my morning coffee in tow before the kids awoke was a simple pleasure I won’t soon forget. This particular house was perched on the cliffs, and waking up to the Pacific Ocean view does wonders for the soul and spirit. When you add a roaring fire and a cocktail at sunset into the mix, then you’re really talking relaxation.

We brought bikes, yoga mats, board games, books and baking projects and we all read a ton! I switched between Patti Smith’s Just Kids and reading my little one The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, which we found on the bookshelf.

This house was owned by a writer and the bookshelves were organized and labeled like a library; a nice touch. Like the book, where the Little Prince famously asks the Aviator to draw him a sheep, a flock of sheep is used at Sea Ranch to keep grass cut low to the ground to reduce the threat of fire during the summer months. It was a tender moment when we made that connection.

There is an elegant pool that is kept heated in the winter. Very few folks braved the cold weather to take a dip, but a dry sauna made the pool all the more enticing, particularly after an invigorating bike ride against the wind. With seals basking on the rocks along the coast and clear crisp February weather, one of the best moments was making a driftwood fort on the beach.

Prices on rentals range about $200-$500 a night depending on location, size and amenities. It is a perfect venue for family reunions, romantic getaways or multi-family trips. Even in the rain or mist, Sea Ranch is a great place to unwind.

Brewed Awakenings, Roundup a Latte, Grounds for Perfection, Espresso Yourself and Mocha Motion are just a few of the catchy/kitschy names for coffee shops on Washington’s Olympic Peninsula.  I love coffee, but more, I love the ritual of coffee and am a sucker for the drive-through. It’s still novel to me and is a treat every time.

We travel to Sequim, Washington on the Olympic Peninsula often to visit my in-laws, who retired there from Southern California. It’s in a banana belt, sunny, and the lavender capital of the U.S.  The town is set in a valley. You can see snow-topped mountains from the Olympic National Forest and Park on one side and the Bay on the other side.

Our days are filled with blackberry picking, jam making, biking, hiking and just enjoying the peace and quiet this somewhat remote, unplugged spot offers. I usually get up early and practice yoga on the deck and stay up late reading, an indulgence for me these days. So, when there, I often switch from my regular decaf to caf and look forward all year to frequenting the various, hilariously named, drive-through coffee spots in the area. Prices are no cheaper than SF, LA or NYC, but they do know how to make a good latte in these parts!

A few years ago I tromped around the Jungfrau region with friends, basing ourselves in the tidy village of Mürren that clings to a ridge above the Lauterbrunnen Valley with a front-row view of the legendary peaks the Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau. A year before that, with young children in tow, my father-in-law, wife, and I trekked the trails out of Grindelwald in the shadow of the Eiger. Both experiences left me wondering if it could get any better.

As everyone knows, it can always get better. These days I’m dreaming of hiking through the terraced vineyards above Lake Geneva in the Lavaux region between Lausanne and Vevey. No, this isn’t alpine hiking, and the trail I have in mind will take only half a day to complete, but the area is near the top of my list of the world’s most astoundingly beautiful places.

If you want to know the truth, I’ve been dreaming of hiking there since 2003, when I saw it for the first time. I was traveling by train after landing in Zurich with my then-five-year-old daughter, on our way to meet my wife and three-year-old who’d flown into Geneva on a different routing. After a couple of hours of speeding through the rolling countryside, through picture-perfect towns, fields, and forests, we entered a long tunnel. When we emerged, we burst into dazzling light, a whole world of blue from the sky above and the azure expanse of Lake Geneva below, tucked in by a horizon of high mountains. Both my daughter and I were stunned. The transition from dark tunnel to blue radiance was so instantaneous it felt like a blow to the chest.

And then the vineyards appeared: rolling, curving green terraces stepping down the hillsides to the lake, mile after mile, with chateaus dotting the rows of vines. Immediately I wanted to hike there, whether there were trails or not. I needed to make my way into that landscape.

Well, I still do. And will. I’ve put it on the calendar for summer 2011.

But if your 2010 plans are still forming and you have an iPhone, get the new Swiss Hike App from MySwitzerland.com and look at hike #1, Lavaux Vineyard Terraces. That’s the one, from St-Saphorin to Lutry. Or just check out their website for the same information. Maybe I’ll see you there if you wait a year.

Why now? Because nobody’s there in winter, and because the sun is your friend, not your foe, when the temperatures drop.

But no matter the season, a hike to the bottom of the canyon is a challenge even for fit hikers. The relentless downhill (a full mile in elevation) takes its toll on the knees, only to force you to turn around and climb back up a mile to get out. But it’s the best way to appreciate the stunning landscape, with layers of rock chronicling the earth’s development, the oldest being almost two billion years old. And challenging as it may be, even an eight-year-old can do it, as Henry’s traveling companion, his son Saul, proves.