Blackberries don’t have the allure of mountain huckleberries, but on my cereal or mashed into jam for toast, I think they are hard to beat. Besides, I’m an impatient sort of guy and they fill my containers much faster than the little huckleberries.

Blackberries are why my wife Dawn and I leave Moscow late each summer, make our way to Troy, and then wind down State Highway 99 to arrive at the thriving little community of Kendrick. Continue reading →