7/23/08: Wednesday, 8:00 AM. 52 degrees, wind SW, calm. The channel is glassy, the sky blue with some haze. The barometer predicts rain.
The blueberry picking excursion to the Barrens was a modest success, fun in the fresh air and sunshine with pals Andy and Judy. The berries were rather sparse, but we picked enough for a few pies and a lot of pancakes. The wild blueberries are mostly Vaccinium angustifolium, with a few closely related huckleberries for good measure. Wild blueberries have a stronger flavor than domesticated, and some folks much prefer the former. They are also much smaller than the domesticated, and hard to pick in quantity. Marlene Paap, who grew up on the Rez, says that her whole family picked and picked to sell the berries, and Jack Erickson of Rocky Acres berry farm says that in the ‘30’s families would camp out in tents to pick the berries to sell at, I think he said, $8 for a 16 quart flat. Even during the Depression that would have been a pittance, as it would take me all day to pick a quart I am sure. There is a reason blueberries are farm grown. Most of the wild berries are eaten by animals as soon as they are ripe, and it occurs to me that the most efficient way to harvest wild blueberries is to shoot and eat the deer that has browsed them. Anyway it was fun, and we topped the day off by drinking schooners of cold beer at Fishlips tavern in Cornucopia. Judy is baking a pie today for desert tonight. We will bring the ice cream.
No bears or anything else were encountered which is one reason it is called “the Barrens,” thousands of acres of scrub oak and pine forest with all the interesting plants associated with them, but apparently not much else. The “critters” come out mostly at night, and it is a good place to conduct a “wolf howl,” going out at night and howling to see if you get an answer (roll up the window real quick if you get a reply right in your ear).
Having gotten into the hunt and gather mode, I am going to pick mulberries from a tree in the woods across the road from the house, and will try to get up the ambition to pick wild raspberries from a huge patch, at least an acre in size, that I came across out in the boondocks while grouse hunting.
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