One of the activities we really wanted to do was to pick blueberries. I knew I would get to pick them with Betsy in Fairbanks, but Chris also wanted to pick some. When Don and I were walking with Babs, we stopped to talk to two young people, who mentioned they had seen blueberries. They told us where to find them, and I decided that perhaps later in the day we could go.
It finally quit raining, which allowed Chris, Don and me to walk to the Teklanika Rest Stop and on past it to the place where the "kids" told us they were. Sure enough - blueberries, and lots of them.
In Fairbanks, the berry bushes are tall; in Denali, they are short to the ground, similar to low-bush cranberries. But they were plentiful. Chris is the master berry picker - she picked more than Don and I gathered combined.
In Fairbanks, the berry bushes are tall; in Denali, they are short to the ground, similar to low-bush cranberries. But they were plentiful. Chris is the master berry picker - she picked more than Don and I gathered combined.
Yum. No wonder that bear was going after them. Although the berries are small, they pack a powerful punch. They taste so good! Tomorrow's oatmeal will taste pretty good with fresh Alaskan blueberries on it!
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