I thought I’d have a pleasant outing in the woods last Sunday picking huckleberries, but there are some very rude people out there.
Because I must run everywhere, I ran from my house to Mt. Spokane, a forty-six mile round trip. Huckleberries, a type of blueberry, grow mostly at high elevation around here, are delicious and even more healthy than blueberries. I eat lots fresh and freeze enough to eat almost daily until late spring. Though quite common, they resist domestication and must be picked wild.
Because many Inland Northwesterners are huckleberry aficionados, good-producing, easy-to-reach patches get hit hard. However, I know of an excellent patch on Mt. Spokane that requires some hiking. I’ve been going there for years, and only once have I seen another picker.
However, so many people passing by in cars laughed at me. One guy yelled out, “Run faster, huckleberry boy!” Oh, I got extremely angry.
Later, another driver honked his horn, and I waved, thinking it was someone I knew. But no, he laughed and yelled, “Wash up, huckleberry hands.”
However, I solutioned this issue very brilliantly. If I ran home in only half the time as my normal pace, only half as many berries will bounce out. So what to do was obvious:
I became incensed about the wastiture of precious huckleberries. I was seething for hours, and not being able to get hold of my anger management counselor didn’t help either. Finally, as I’ve done before, I vented my anger in a non-destructive manner.
So, next week I’ll have to make another trip to Mt. Spokane – by car, which actually is how I got there today. I didn’t really run to Mt Spokane and back. 🙂