Blueberries at Eaglecrest

On one rare sunny Saturday in August, Mr. X and I met up with Brad for some berry picking at the ski area. There were people and pets all over the place picking blueberries, cloud berries and who knows what else.

Walking up the maintenance road less than a half mile we found an abundance of berries, including the sweetest bog berries tucked against a steep incline just off a ski run. We dyed our hands and one of us - the seat of our pants - purple in our pursuit of a blueberry tart.

The sun shone and a light breeze kept us comfortable. Blueberries for Sal may or may not have been quoted. Before we knew it, three hours had passed and our buckets were full. Pausing for a quick snack break of cheese and crackers I questioned why we hadn't brought camp chairs for tail-gating in the parking lot. As we slipped downtown to drop Brad off we ran into other friends who showed us their stained hands and reported that their 15 year old pup was napping after frolicking with a ptarmigan.

And then we went home where I make my first tart.