I'll let some sharp reader figure out where we went yesterday. We picked almost a gallon of huckleberries, hardly even had to move from a patch right next to the road.

Then, we drove on. This is a spot near Bill's old stomping grounds from the mid-'70s. We may have been illegal aliens here. We weren't quite sure when we passed by the sign that said something about conveyance.

It was pretty---enough to take pictures, that is. Nobody arrested us, so I guess we're okay.

Huck pickin' was fun, and the sundaes last evening tasted good too. With our picking luck so far this year, it looks like a good winter of purple-coated ice cream, dotted hotcakes and berry-filled muffins and pies ahead.