Williston Observer

Getting fit in Williston

Feb. 23, 2012

By Karen Wyman

It’s so nice that our wonderful town boasts many options for getting in shape and staying healthy. Some of these choices include, but are not limited to: several gyms and health clubs, a Jazzercise studio, a gymnastics facility, dance studios, and martial arts studios. Williston also offers a beautiful bike path and several well-maintained hiking trails as well as numerous tennis courts and basketball courts.

With all of these amazing resources right here, I should be motivated to work out more often. Unfortunately, this is not the case. I currently have two expired gym memberships proudly displayed on my key ring; I just never managed to use them. I also have another facility debiting my bank account monthly, yet I haven’t entered its doors since the summer. Calling to cancel my membership would be ridiculous, as I always convince myself l may want to go tomorrow. The funny thing is that I like to work out, and I especially love how much energy I have afterwards. Whenever I make up my mind to join a club or class, I give it my absolute all … for about 2 weeks. After that, no matter how much I enjoy my workout routine and the barely emerging results, I just stop participating. It’s like my initial enthusiasm uses all the energy I have, and the desire just disappears. Luckily this phenomenon doesn’t apply to other areas of my life (like my marriage!).

It would seem that a punch card or seven-day trial membership would make the most sense for my frame of mind and pocketbook. However, when I get it in my head that I am going to start an exercise regimen, there is so much gusto and eagerness involved — I convince myself and everyone around me that there is no choice but to go all in. Thank goodness I’m not a gambler! I think a “time-share” concept membership would be ideal for me. I could split a membership with other people, and we would each be entitled to a certain amount of usage. That way, I could still have the luxury of going for a few weeks throughout the year — whenever my overwhelming motivation hits — and I could sell my unused time to another one of the membership owners and not feel guilty about wasting money! I think I’m onto something here. Maybe I can even “sub-lease” my current membership, and then I can take it back when I need it.

As my girls approach five, and bathing suit season approaches, I realize I can no longer use the excuse that I “just had twins.” After catching a sneak peek of this year’s Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover, I am compelled to find a cure for my two-week sporadic commitment to exercise-itis (try finding that on WebMD). I have decided to take advantage of the mild winter, Williston’s expansive sidewalks and bike path, and do some old-fashioned walking. Armed with my pedometer and MP3 player, I am pledging myself to walk 10,000 steps (five miles) every day. So, when you see a crazy lady parking at the far back of the grocery store parking lot, locking her car with a key surrounded by gym memberships, it’s just me trying to get fit and cure my rare condition.

Karen Wyman has been a Williston resident for six years, and lives with her husband and twin 4-year-old daughters.

Cambridge ski tow (1935-1938)

By Bill Skiff

Cambridge’s first rope tow, built by Wesley Pope and located on the Skiff’s family farm (circa 1937). (Photo courtesy of Bill Skiff)

Wesley Pope was Cambridge’s go-to guy, a jack-of-all-trades and a master of all. He was the town’s undertaker, baker, tin roofer and lumber mill operator, just to name a few. Besides that, he was a wonderful man and everyone’s friend.

In 1935, Wesley built the area’s first rope tow. The lift was located on my dad’s farm along Vermont 15 between the villages of Cambridge and Jeffersonville. Wooden poles were placed into the ground at even intervals. At the top of each pole, Wesley hung a rim from a car wheel. One continuous rope ran over the rims and around a drive wheel, attached to a 1927 Cadillac motor. Skiers grabbed the rope and hung on for dear life as it pulled them up the hill. It was a mechanical success but Wesley made one mistake: The tow was located on a slope that faced south. Between the wind blowing and the sun shining, snow never had a chance.

According to “Cambridge, Vermont: Special Places, Special People” by Roberta Marsh, Wesley “sold the tow (after three years) to Craig Burt, head of the Mountain Company in Stowe Vermont. The tow was set up by the toll road and became the first tow installed in the booming state ski area.”

Dad taught me to ski on that hill.  His skis were made of hickory. The binding was a leather strap that ran through the middle of the ski and over the top. On the day of my first lesson, Dad placed his toe in the loop and headed down. At the bottom of the hill, he bent his knees and, by placing one ski behind the other, executed a wonderful left-hand telemark turn. He climbed back up the hill, handed me the skis and said, “That’s how you do it.” I never saw Dad ski again.

My first ski bindings were rubber rings from two Ball canning jars, the round rubber pieces that go between the jar and the top to seal in the contents. I put the jar rubbers over my snow boots and pushed them up to my ankles. Then, I slid my toes into the leather loops. When my toes were securely in the loops, I slid each rubber down around my heels, and then stretched them over my toes and the leather loops. They helped keep the skis from coming off, but you needed to carry a pocket full of rings because they broke so easily under the stress.

Over the years, I have enjoyed advancements in ski technology. I went from wooden skis to metal skis, and now use today’s shaped skis. I refused to wear a helmet for a long time — until I found out how warm they are. Now, those earlobes I exposed to frost bite so many times are much happier. Besides, I have to set an example for the grandkids.

Most skiers have a role model. Mine is 70-year-old Ken, who decided a couple years ago to be a snowboard instructor. When he applied for a job at Smugglers Notch Ski School, the head of the school said, ‘’Man, I have been looking for you for 10 years.” Kids do a double take when he flies by them with his gray locks flowing out from under his helmet.

As skis continue to go uphill in technology, I find that I have to work harder to keep my physical abilities from going downhill. But it’s worth the effort. Just the other day, while riding up the mountain at Bolton Valley, the sun came out and began shining on trees covered with frozen snow. Diamonds sparkled everywhere and I thought, “How lucky can I get?”

Bill Skiff grew up on a farm between Cambridge and Jeffersonville. After a career in education, he now lives in Williston, where he is a justice of the peace and Fourth of July frog-jumping official. In “Places I’ve Played,” he shares his experiences of growing up in Vermont. Comments are welcome at [email protected]

Courtesy photos by David Yandell

The Champlain Valley Union boys hockey team topped Spaulding 3-0 on Feb. 11.

Courtesy photos by Jennifer Olson

At the NVAC duals wrestling tournament in Vergennes on Feb. 11, Champlain Valley Union finished third among 13 teams. The Redhawks’ Connor Brown capturing four triumphs in his 152-pound class.

Courtesy photos by Luke Baynes and David Yandell

The Tom Cleary Trio — with Cleary on piano, John Rivers on double bass and Jeff Salisbury on drums — performed its “Grooves of Great Cities” jazz program in Williston on Feb. 10 as part of the Brick Church Music Series. Opening for Cleary was Queen City Bossa, a bossa nova jazz band featuring lead vocals by Jessica Andreoletti — better known to Willistonians as a senior planner in the town’s planning and zoning department.