Photo of mountain lake by Henofthewood on Flickr Creative Commons license. **Saturday, a hike to Annette Lake in the Cascades with
my friend E. We snacked along the way on clustered salal berries – and the
occasional dusky blue or lightly red huckleberry on airy bushes.The day
was glorious: The last weekend in September, and still dry and sunny. This is unusual in
the Northwest, but we’ll take it!Back to berries, though. Admission: Until now, I’ve never really valued salal. Apparently
that’s because I’d never had them fully, tip-top ripened to a dark navy, and on
a sunny Cascade hillside. They're an acquired taste: I asked E. what she thought, and she said
questioningly, “Grainy, rough?”
Salal aren’t blueberries, I had to admit. They lack the easy charisma and bright flavor of more popular berries. But in this case, to me, they were downright flavorful. There was a depth to them, a sun-warmed richness. I wanted pots full of them, I wanted pies and crumbles. I was content with snacking, though. I gathered handfuls, each with its slightly hairy bulb and
knobby end. They
were ugly enough to be left on their leathery leaf-branches
for me to find on a sunny fall hike, and I loved them for it. 
**
The berries provided moisture, Vitamins C and A, and
the usual antioxidants as we headed up the 1600 feet of elevation change
between the trail head and Annette
Lake I
found them refreshing, and I was grateful: When I arrived in Washington Eating the berries gave me the “I’m a hardy hiker, I’m like Heidi with the goats in the Swiss mountains,” thought pattern that I alternate with “I’m like
Grizzly Adams; I can survive!” when I’m flattering myself. And yet, it was a
little bit true. After a good many switchbacks and walking past many majestic firs and spruce, E. and I made it to Annette
Lake We
had our lunches there, E. with her tuna sandwich and shelled pistachios and
fruit leather, and me with my peanut-butter-and-banana pita, HoneyCrisp apple,
and dark chocolate squares. We
sat in the sun on the grainy beach, facing the light of the water, watching
circles form on the surface and talking about relationships and life and work,
and listening to the calling voices of the fewer than 10 other people on other shores of the lake as they threw balls to retrievers and talked
about we knew not what. The
water, just to fill you in, was probably pretty cold. Maybe surprisingly, I didn’t go in! The sky
was overcast when we arrived, and I had the recent memory of swimming two weeks
ago in Mason Lake here I’d learned
that although I’ll swim in large bodies of water in any temperature, in
mountain lakes I prefer to dip when they are sun-warmed and it is high summer.
Call me particular, call me someone who doesn't want to be chilled before a long hike in falling light, and you will be right. Another thing we found: A king bolete mushroom, or porcini. Not exactly a feast, but we also talked to the Forest Service officers about logging roads that are handy for berries (and presumably for mushrooms). There will be return trips, after all! 
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