Picking Huckleberries and a Story

It is time for another trip north and since we are officially "engaged", this is as good as any time to go.  Mister flew into Kalispell and I flew into Missoula.  I then rented a car and went and picked Mister up and we drove back down to Flathead Lake to spend some time with the family.  Cass and Scott drove up from Provo and so we were able to have them with us as well -- what fun!

My sister has some hops planted that are so very cool.  I wish we could grow these in our backyard and then perhaps branch out and try our hand at making some beer.  Perhaps some day.

Since the next day was absolutely gorgeous out, we decided to go up Crane Mountain and pick some huckleberries with Sis and Joe.  Neither Mister nor Scott have experienced this before and so we are excited to share this part of our heritage with them.

The drive up is wonderful and we have to go quite high to locate the later berries since the lower mountain is pretty well picked over this late into the summer.

Before we are able to locate any berries, Mister finds a wasp nest.  Is that an auspicious start to this trip?

Soon, we arrive at a promising spot and start combing the hillsides for these wonderful, yet elusive little purple berries.  My mouth is already watering in the hopes of taking some home with us.  We find a few in this spot, but feel like we need to go higher.  (Later in the story, this would be the picture we would use as part of our investigation -- read on for details)

Scott finds a few treats, but we think he is eating more than he is sharing.  What do you think?

Obviously Cassie is guilty.  We gain the evidence to prove it and laugh as we continue up the mountain.

The next spot proves to be much more prolific with these tasty little wonders and so we spread out and fill cups as quick as we can.  Yes!  There is a certain required pose for this -- obviously.

Ah -- here is one of them.  Got him.

A better idea of what we were up against.

A last picture before we left --- (and also another piece of the investigation later on).

Okay, now for the story:  Once we are back in the car and headed down the hill, I realize that I am  missing my engagement ring.  Yep -- my beautiful diamond is somewhere on that dang mountain.  To say that I am upset is definitely an understatement.  To Mister's credit, he handles it remarkably well and just says we will get another one.  Ugh.  The first one was expensive enough and I am not eager to replace it.  We all start talking and and analyzing the pictures.  I still have it one when we leave the first spot, but it is missing in the purple finger picture.  Aha!  We know what spot I lost it in.  We decide to go back up early the next morning and look for it so Joe calls around and locates a metal detector to rent the next day.  We go to bed -- and of course, I don't sleep.  Nightmares all night.

The next day we pick up the metal detector and head back up the mountain.  We all know where we were and head back to start in a path looking where we were picking.  The metal detector is going back and forth over the area and picking up absolutely nothing.  Drat.  I have all but given up and realize what an incredible lost cause it is.  On a whim, I walk back over to a bush that I had sat down next to and picked.  Laying right under the bush, as pretty as could be, and sparkling in the sunlight was my beautiful ring.  Unbelievable.  I don't think 6 people have ever been so happy to hear someone yell out, "I have found it."  Awesome.