Wild berries for the wild minded

Blueberries out of all berries have a permanent hold on my heart.  They are physical embodiment of grand memories with even grander people.  Blueberries are a quick break while doing trail work with my best friend Emily while we served on hitches in the White Mountains (NH).  They’re hiking around Acadia with some friends from SCA’s NH Corps and getting to enjoy Maine’s renown berries.  It’s seeing someone one last time, capping off a day of swimming below a waterfall with an important friend before she moves from Washington to South Carolina for six years of grad school.  Now it’s picking with folks from my first federal position and getting to enjoy the beauty that Minnesota offers.

Some fool wore chacos… lessons learned.

First go

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zack the forager

First pickin’

My like for berries, especially wild ones, should have been evident by now.  Wherever we do stocking surveys Zack and I run into raspberries plants and oftentimes blueberries in addition.  We’ve seen strawberry plants but they’ve long passed their prime and have been bare for weeks.  During a survey I once asked Zack if he ever felt like a bear when he picks berries.  He replied yes and I was relieved to know I wasn’t the only one who thought that way.  There’s a decent chance he could’ve just been humoring me but…

Second time around

On Thursday Sarah from the recreation department did stocking surveys with me while Zack check cruised some timber with our supervisor Corey.  Our survey site was located off the Southeast corner of Decker Lake and my, oh my!  Berries as far as you could see.  Nearest to the road were blueberries and as you traveled further south to the survey, raspberries.  It was a perfect picking moment as the mosquitoes weren’t out and the deer flies were hardly a nuisance.  However our mission was to complete the stocking survey in order to move on to a new site- of course it goes without saying we did grab a berry or two as we walked.

Generally being a less than observant person, I excited told Wendy at the office of our find that afternoon.  My excitement spreading, Wendy decided that she was going to pick berries after work and easily convinced me to go along.  Linda was in as well and we all met up at six and set off.  Come to find out, the site I was so stoked about was where Wendy, some of the seasonals (Zack, Ben, Art, Karl), and myself had gone to our first and only other time berry picking.  This time we were on the South side of the road though.

Wendy fears no mosquitoes

It was a glorious picking as we nearly had our buckets filled in less than two hours whereas the first time around I didn’t even have my bucket a third of the way full in what was probably about the same time frame.

Second pickin’

 

There wasn’t enough time to go after raspberries with the blueberry bushes loaded with tiny fruit.  What was I to do with what would be over 24 cups of blueberries?  I talked about canning them on the ride home and Wendy just happened to have a pot and extra jars/lids/bands I could use and was kind enough to drop them off that Friday morning.

 

 

 

Honey!

Never having canned anything before I spent what might’ve been a ridiculous amount of time reading how to can and jam recipes before going with a simple berry, honey, and lemon juice one.  The viscous honey eliminated the need for pectin which I was more than happy about.  I finally got around to processing the berries and making jam on Saturday which turned into an over six-hour ordeal.  With the mosquitoes biting during berry picking I had put quantity over quality end ended up with heaps of leaves and twigs in my bucket that I had to separate from the berries.  Making the jam itself and canning it was actually the quick part.  We’ll see how the jars keep and travel as I plan to ship them to my folks in Washington.  Although the freshly made jam was delicious on just as freshly baked bread.

 

 

 

4 cups of magic

Starting to boil…

Remnants

Dirt Don’t Hurt

Conservation is a huge part of my life- it’s both my passion and how I got to where I am today.  It would be an understatement to say that the conservation life is a large part of who I’ve become as well. 

It’s hard to say when it all began.  There isn’t a date or event where I could tell you when my obsession for the outdoors began.  Born to parents who are city folks, it’s a mystery to some that I would rather spend the summer outdoors and under the stars rather staying in Seattle.  An unknown force pulls at my heartstrings when I see evergreen trees and snow capped mountains, knowing that the most wonderful of days await me.  It goes without saying that those wild and free days are typically accompanied by the best people I’ll ever meet. 

Winter retreat YESC

Yellowstone with YESC 2009

In high school I was part of a club called Earthcorps.  We recycled cans and bottles within the school and had a partnership with the YMCA Earth Service Corps (YESC) who held monthly service projects around King County.  YESC was my gateway to the conservation world and exposed teenage me to all sorts of adventures that I never would’ve had otherwise.  With seasonal retreats, service projects, and summer trips I fell deeper in love with nature and the bounties it promised. 

 

 

 

Outward Bound 2007

Through YESC I was able to go on a multi-week Outward Bound white water rafting trip with a crew of other teens in the majestic brilliant Southwest.  We lost track of time, rising when the sun did and sleeping when night fell.  The desert sky held the most stars I have ever seen to this day.  Days were spent paddling and the meals we cooked each evening were out of this world.  Outward Bound might’ve been my first experience in meeting folks that I might never see again but would be happy to share a meal with any time. 

YESC introduced me to one of my favourite activities: trail work.  It’s the building and maintaining of trails and one summer they teamed up with the Washington Trails Association (WTA, check them out at www.wta.org !) for a youth volunteer vacation.  A crew of capable young women, YESC/YMCA staff, and a couple of WTA leaders equated to a fantastic week in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest.  We worked just North of Mount St. Helens, brushing and restoring tread on a trail that hadn’t received much love in years.  Although I’ve used various hand tools before I met the Pulaski for the first time as well was the McLeod (the value of which I would learn years later).  The work we got done was incredibly empowering.  And again the meals were always solid- there’s something about dinners after a day of doing work outside, knowing that you had a cozy tent waiting.  I’ve yet to had a terrible meal when camping. 

WTA camp 2009

WTA with YESC 2009

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grand Canyon, SCA ASB 2010

Satellite Nursery, SCA ASB 2010

 Time passed and I was on my way to wrapping up my associates degree fall 2010 without much direction.  The only thing for certain was that I didn’t want to transfer to a university right away.  It was summer of 2010 and previously in March I had gone on an alternative spring break trip with the Student Conservation Association (SCA) to the Grand Canyon where 30 college students from around the United States did service projects instead of partying in the tropics.  There’s nothing like sleeping below the sky, frozen by the yipping howl of coyotes and the knowledge that cougars circled the campgrounds at night.  Fact because you went to a presentation by a ranger who had solid data from a tracking collar.  This was yet another instance in which friends that you might only ever see once came about. 

 

SCA NH: Learning what it means to actually snow

Murder mystery in the lodge; photo credit to Emily Lord

My friend Lauren gave me the obvious answer to my question of what to do post community college.  “Why don’t you get an internship with SCA?” and so I ended up in New Hampshire for 10 months in the middle of a state park with 30 or so other folks in their 20s (two of us were 19 at the start).  SCA New Hampshire Corps has been an a major player in the decisions I’ve made the last few years.  About four months of environmental education in local elementary schools with six months of down and dirty conservation work and I was as happy as could be.  

 

SCA NH: Jeremy Burns taking inventory of tools

 I’ve been lucky enough to see some of the folks I befriended in New Hampshire again, some several times.  Others I’ve yet to meet up in the three years since we split but I’m positive we’ll meet up one day.  SCA NH has also introduced me to many other people in the conservation world and likewise I’ve met people who have been impacted by the corps life.  Corps life is one that can never be fully explained because it is happiness, madness, and so much more. This year two of my fellow corps members from NH Corps have started their own corps in Tennessee.  The Great Smoky Mountains to be precise!  Sean and Heather are living the dream and continuing SCA’s legacy on youth and could really use some help in making their first season a success.  Check out Smoky Mountain Corps to support what is already a great endeavour.  You can also learn more about them on their Facebook page and read about how they’ll be impacting crews of young folks and the communities that they are connected to.

 

 

 

SCA NH: Sill bridge built in the White Mountains NF; photo credit to Emily Cook