[A Berry Pickin' Fool]

Please suffer me a trip report from last summer, as I believe it is quite germane and informative. I was up near Mt. Rainier huckleberrying in late July. It was a clear but muggy, classic buttermilk sky day and the only sound I heard was the annoying hum (or is it a buzz?) of a mosquito, left ear, swat, right ear, swat, left, right...ahhh, the sounds of nature. The berries were few and far between, and I was cussing my miserable luck. Drats! I suspected they had been cleaned out perhaps only days before as every once in awhile I'd find a few real juicy berries that someone had missed. Hours later I had only barely covered the bottom of my container, an old plastic gallon vinegar bottle. I was keeping one eye on my watch and the other on a suspicious leticular cloud that appeared to be forming above the mountain top (for those in the know, lenticular clouds above Rainier usually signal an impending storm). The berries were sparse but the weather was so nice that--what the heck--just enjoy the day! As the sun made its lonesome journey across the sky it started to get colder, darker, and windier in a quick, forboding way. A storm was blowing in. I saw the pesky mosquito make one last circle around me and then head strait across the patch towards the bordering forest, neither veering right nor left. Perhaps he had an eye on the lenticular? Who is to know? I was beginning to wonder if I should vamoose as well. I had a quarter of a container at this point,and this was after 3 hours of solid picking! Arghh!!! Now it grew increasingly dark and a cold chill cut the air. What was going on? I looked up at the mountain and suddenly my hair stood on end. Holy Moly! Three, count them three, lenticular clouds had formed in a short stack right there above the mountain! Never, ever, had I seen such a phenomenon, and I believe myself to be the first witness of such an occurance, I dare say. I knew that a lenticular cloud above Rainier means bad weather pronto, but three?!! I was doomed! I thought about running back to the car but I was five miles up the trail in the middle of a big, wide berry patch (actually, berryless patch). I threw on my rain gear and decided to keep picking. I needed at least enough berries for a pie. Then the skies opened up and it fell. What a doozy! It came in big drops, faster, then heavier, then yet faster! The drops hailing down on me in fierce stacatto frenzy. All I could do was hunch my shoulders, screw my eyes shut, grit my teeth, and weather it out. I held my camera out at arms length, pointed it to the sky, and took one picture, not even daring to open my eyes for an instant. Finally after about 1/2 hour of the densist precipitation I've ever encountered, it let up and the sun peaked through with a glorious rainbow, all seven colors, though I have to say it was weighted on the blue side somewhat. A few happy cumulus clouds floated above, and I looked down to my container to see...that it was full. Full indeed!

lenticularius berius

[Ann L. Liszt]

My analysis indicates the writer of report suffers from bi polar berry syndrome. Suggest medication with Mayplius Slurpupium and a little Butterium.