Before moving to the Inland Northwest, I had never heard of Huckleberries. In fact, if you
would have shown them to me before I knew what they were, I would have sworn they were small blueberries. My first recall of this wonderful fruit was my first opportunity to go Huckleberry picking. I didn’t have anything else to do on a hot August weekend afternoon. After a long trek by car into the mountains, followed by a long walk further up that mountain (each of us carrying a bucket), we had finally found our prize. Well, at first, I wasn’t aware we had found anything. It wasn’t until I was shown what the plant looked like and folded up the leaves, did I realize what we were looking for. This particular patch was abundant. By abundant, I don’t mean that the buckets were filled instantly. It definitely took the better part of the day to get a few gallons of berries. We probably could have had a gallon or two more if we weren’t eating along the way. They were sweet and delicious.