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Post by FOTH on Oct 9, 2011 16:43:38 GMT -6
While Liz packed items into a second cache basket, Einar did what he could to secure the toe of his right boot, which had been close to failing for weeks but had finally let go on the climb back up to the cabin that morning after the trapline, sole hanging loose and floppy from the upper portion of the boot and threatening to separate entirely if he didn’t take steps to prevent it. At lest, he told himself, most of the snow was gone, making the boot repair less immediately critical than it otherwise might have been. And I don’t happen to have any toes left on that foot, anyway. Not like I’m gonna freeze them if I get some moisture in the boot while I’m out and about today. Better that foot than the other one, I guess. Small comfort, he knew, for though unable to freeze toes on his right foot anymore he could certainly sustain injury to what remained of the thing, and he was having enough trouble with the foot, already. Stump ached terribly in the cold, left him at times limping and moving a good bit more slowly than he would have preferred. Needed new boots, they both did, and soon. Though he had several times constructed such and Liz, so far as he knew, had no prior experience at boot-making, he hoped perhaps she might find the construction of new winter footwear a good and useful pursuit while spending several more relaxed days in the cabin, days it appeared she and the baby both needed after her recent trouble. Finishing with his hasty repair on the boot he tried it on, found the coils of pitch-coated nettle cordage to have greatly improved the boot’s structure. Would be just fine, for the tasks of the day.
“Boots aren’t holding up so well, Liz.”
“No, they’re certainly not! But as many miles as we’ve put on them, I’d have to say we’ve got our money’s worth out of them…especially seeing as we didn’t pay for them. Yours are the ones Susan gave you that time, aren’t they? And seems mine I took off a dead agent down in the valley, many, many months ago…”
“Huh. Yep, believe you’re right on both accounts Long time ago, those days were. No wonder we’re due for some new ones. I’m gonna go place this cache--in a place where you’ll have no trouble finding it, a spot we both know real well--and what would you think about getting started on some boots for one or the other of us while I’m out doing that? Deer hide’s the best thing we’ve got for soles since it’s thicker than sheepskin and tougher than elk--but you can use whatever you find handy for the upper portions. Something warm. Line it with rabbit maybe, if we’ve got enough left. We’ve got another month or so when we can be expecting wet snow from time to time, but then after that, mukluk-like boots ought to be just fine, keep us real warm until spring when things start getting soggy again. So aim for something of that sort, maybe.”
“I’ll do it. Get the pieces cut out, at least. Let me trace your feet before you go, so I’ll have a pattern to work from.”
“Aw, you can start on your own first if you like. Your boots aren’t in much better shape than mine.”
“Sure they are! The soles are coming off of yours, and while I know you’d happily wear them that way for the next eight or ten months if need be, I don’t want you losing any more toes! So yours come first. Now stand here on this sheet of aspen bark, and let me trace your feet.”
Einar stood, balancing with some difficulty on first one foot and then the other as she ran a burnt-tipped stick around each, making outlines that she could cut out with her knife and lay on pieces of hide as patterns, finally bracing both hands against the ceiling in order to prevent himself toppling over. Seemed to have used up most of his energy on that trapline run, felt as though he could just as easily have gone to sleep as set out with the second cache basket. Which of course wasn’t an option. Liz needed rest, and he needed to place the remaining caches. Without delay. Was going to take him the remainder of the day just to reach the location he had in mind, let alone making the return trip, and he wanted at least that first half to be done in the daylight, if possible. Would allow him to be more certain of leaving as little trace as possible at the site, concealing that basket well in its hanging tree and making sure it would be there--and safe to use--when they needed it. Liz was doing something on the stove, cooking something, from the smell of it and he knew that if given the chance she’d sit him down and try her best to feed him something, which only increased the urgency of his leaving. If he ate, he’d really be struggling to keep from curling up under a spruce for a quick nap, the way things were going, and he simply couldn’t afford any such luxury at the moment. Had better be on his way, and told Liz so when she invited him to stick around and share some lunch with her before heading out.
“Gonna be a long walk any way you look at it, and I need to start covering those miles.”
“Einar,” she put a hand on his arm, waited until he looked her way. “Wish I could be coming with you on this one. Take care of yourself out there.”
“Yep. I’ll be back before morning.”
“I hope you’re back in time for supper! If not, I’ve packed you some cold goat roast, honey and a few lily flour fritters I was experimenting with earlier, so please don’t forget to eat. I’ll be waiting for you. See you tonight.”
“I’ll try for it.” And he was off, basket slung over his shoulder and spear in hand.
Might have made it, too, by that night, had it not been for Muninn, and the prize he brought when returning early that day from his aerial wanderings, seeing Einar missing from the cabin and setting out to find him.
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AlaskaSue
Member
One of the Frozen Chosen
Posts: 64
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Post by AlaskaSue on Oct 9, 2011 17:59:37 GMT -6
Well, I'm glad Liz is fixing to work on some boots for Einar - been worried they would not last long after her recent repair of them! Good that he's getting out to work on hiding their second cache, hope he remembers to eat! And what has that bird got now; he sure brings an interesting dimension to their wholly interesting life, doesn't he!
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Post by captaincaveman on Oct 9, 2011 19:18:00 GMT -6
Seems like Einar would benefit from waiting until morning for some of his longer trips, so he wouldn't have to push so hard to make it home before dark.. as a planning idea anyway.
Wonder what that bird brought them this time? boots? lol
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Post by FOTH on Oct 10, 2011 15:46:33 GMT -6
Well, I'm glad Liz is fixing to work on some boots for Einar - been worried they would not last long after her recent repair of them! Good that he's getting out to work on hiding their second cache, hope he remembers to eat! And what has that bird got now; he sure brings an interesting dimension to their wholly interesting life, doesn't he! Yep, the bird certainly does make things interesting at times... New boots will serve them well; theirs are falling into disrepair again after being worked on, more than once. They've seen a lot of miles. Seems like Einar would benefit from waiting until morning for some of his longer trips, so he wouldn't have to push so hard to make it home before dark.. as a planning idea anyway. Wonder what that bird brought them this time? boots? lol Boots--ha! That would be handy... Yes, Einar would probably be better off setting off on his expeditions first thing in the morning to give himself more time, but in this case, someone needed to run the trapline that morning, and he wanted to give Liz the chance to rest, after her scare with possibly going into early labor. Thanks to all of you for reading!
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Post by FOTH on Oct 10, 2011 15:47:10 GMT -6
Determined not to be away from Liz for any longer than the task required--didn’t want her feeling as though she had to do too much in his absence, and though the situation appeared to have stabilized, he was not yet entirely convinced that the danger of early labor had passed--Einar pressed himself up the slope with as much speed as he could muster, pausing only once, to collect the whitish-orange lumps and half-solidified amber oozes of pitch from a wounded spruce. Filling the space between two small slabs of aspen bark he collected as much of the sticky stuff as he could remove from the tree in a relatively short space of time, lashing the bark slabs together and tying them to the outside of the cache basket for the remainder of the climb. The pitch would be coming back with him to the cabin, as they had completely exhausted their supply in waterproofing the cache baskets, and needed it there.
The raven caught up to Einar shortly before he topped out on the red ridge, which he had climbed with the intention of concealing the cache in the last stand of timber before the great red expanse opened wide and windswept above. Making a wide circuit of the area, rasping, scolding and swooping Muninn made a dive at Einar’s head, pulled out of it at the last moment and came to rest in a nearby tree, his weight bowing its slender top. Einar laughed, hands on his hips as he watched the creature’s antics, catching his breath, glad for an excuse to set down the basket and take a short break from his work. The climb hadn’t been easy for him, and though he’d kept up a good pace, the increased elevation was having a noticeable effect on his breathing, ribs feeling as though they were squeezing and constricting his chest, preventing him from taking in enough air. Big improvement over the past several weeks, but still a challenge.
“Hi there, ya big vulture,” he greeted the bird. “Come to watch me hide this basket, did you, so you’ll always know where to find it in case you’re out flying and get hungry for some sheep jerky or bear fat? Smart bird. Still don’t know how you find me when I’m out and about, but you always seem to do it. Maybe in this case, Liz told you. Is that it? Liz tell on me when you stopped by the cabin looking for some grub? Send you up here to watch me, report in if it’s looking like I’m gonna be late or if I forget to have my supper on time? Ha! Good thing you can’t talk…yet. I’d be in some real trouble then, wouldn’t I, you flying back there and reporting me all the time for one thing or another?”
Muninn--not able to speak, though perhaps, Einar was beginning to suspect, not entirely unable to reason--did not answer, instead floating down and landing somewhat awkwardly at Einar’s feet, strutting about for a time and depositing something small and colorful on the granite-pebbled ground. Einar crouched beside the item, turning it over with a stick, chest tightening and breaths coming a bit more quickly as he inspected four inches of twisted red, yellow and white-insulated wire connected to a fragment of dark green circuit board, chips, resistors and capacitors all woven in with a variety of components that Einar did not recognize, and he might have dismissed the item as a scrap of electronic debris, the partial innards of a discarded phone or some such that had caught the raven’s eye at some campsite or other, had it not been for a round, squatty metallic item placed near the edge of the board, silver and as big around as a 9mm shell but only about a quarter as high. In its center the device had what appeared to be a small window, and Einar had seen its like before, knew that it was an infrared sensor, designed to pick up on temperature changes and send electronic signals in response. Part of a heat sensing camera or something very similar, near as he could figure, and he turned to the raven who stood quietly nearby, waiting.
“You’re spooking me here, critter. Where’d you find this thing? Where’d you get it?”
The raven just tilted his head, hopped closer and tapped at Einar’s knee with his beak, letting out a series of quiet rasps.
“Ok, yeah, I know you can’t tell me, but you’re gonna have to show me here in a while. Can’t just let this one go, hope it’ll be alright. You get this from the same place as that camo cloth you brought in the other day, I wonder? Bet you did, and I bet you’re trying to tell me something, too. Warn me. Wish I knew where you found this thing. How far from the cabin….”
Still the raven made no answer, and Einar got back to his feet in a hurry, giving the bird’s gift one final inspection to assure himself that it contained nothing which could identify and broadcast his location if left intact--did not, but he resorted to some quick and somewhat imprecise work with a heavy chunk of granite, just to be doubly certain--before slipping it into his pocket, hoisting the cache basket back onto his shoulder and continuing up the slope at something very nearly approaching a run. While the cache’s placement had been the original purpose of his climb that day, its importance had increased tremendously with the discovery of the sensor. Partial sensor. Wondered if the raven was strong enough to break off the piece he’d brought with him, didn’t doubt it, but knew there was at least some chance the bird had found the device already ruined on the ground, seizing on the most colorful or easiest carried fragment and carrying it along as an item of interest, much as a magpie or jay might be drawn to a bit of foil found in the remains of a campfire. Einar wished he had a better idea of where the bird might have found the item, knew that with his powerful wings and urge to wander, he could have picked it up anywhere within a thirty or forty mile radius, in the time he’d been away that day.
Maybe you’re over-reacting, Einar. Ha! Wouldn’t be the first time, you know… This thing might be what’s left over from a years-old trail camera left at the edge of a meadow somewhere by elk hunters or guides, torn apart by a curious bear and left for the ravens to pick at…but it doesn’t look that way, does it? Looks way too new, no rust on the metal parts or fading of the circuit board material…hasn’t been sitting out in the weather for long, that’s for sure. Looks like… He paused in his internal dialog, tossing a triple-corded and braided length of nettle cordage up over a high spruce branch, jumping to get ahold of its end and pulling, hoisting the basket up into its hiding place. Looks like I’m going hunting tonight, like it or not. Hope the bird’ll be willing to lead me back to the spot where he’s been finding this stuff. Wouldn’t doubt that he will be, interested as he seems in returning to the place. Assuming he’s been getting these things from the same spot, in the first place… Guess I’ll just turn him loose, try my best to follow him and hope he gets the idea that he needs to stay close, circle back and wait for me once in a while since I don’t have wings. Wish I could stop back by the cabin before doing this, let Liz know what’s going on but I really need to resolve this, don’t want to worry her unnecessarily as I would if I stopped by there all in a hurry to say that hey, somebody’s out there putting cameras and sensors in the woods, and I’ve got to go hunt them down, get to the bottom of it…better to just get it done if I can, go back to her with an answer of one sort or another. Already told her it may be tomorrow before I get back, and as fast as I made this climb--not even close to sunset yet--hopefully I can get this job done by sometime early tomorrow, make it back to her. And I may still stop by the cabin on the way, if the path leads near there. Just have to see which way the bird takes me.
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EdD270
Full Member
deceased
Posts: 201
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Post by EdD270 on Oct 10, 2011 17:06:54 GMT -6
That Muninn is possibly the smartest one of the bunch, well, except for Liz. I guess that don't leave much, huh? EA sure better tell Liz what he's up to, communication builds trust, and settles frayed nerves. Going to be very interesting to see where, and what, these fragments of cloth and circuit board came from. A hunter posting a trail camera that got caught by a bear? Or someone planting an explosive device that went off prematurely? Hard to say, no burn marks on the stuff Muninn brought to EA. Yup, going to be interesting. Keep the chapters coming, FOTH. BTW, that's a good load of aspen wood you got on that trailer. Glad I'm not the only one who hauls logs home and then cuts it into stove length at the home wood pile. Most folks I know cut it to size in the woods and haul the stove lengths home, never seemed very efficient to me. The longer sticks are easier to load and stack for the trip.
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Post by chemicalgal on Oct 10, 2011 22:33:02 GMT -6
What no pictures from your time out this time? We always enjoy your pictures, almost as much as your stories Jo
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Post by FOTH on Oct 11, 2011 15:17:51 GMT -6
That Muninn is possibly the smartest one of the bunch, well, except for Liz. I guess that don't leave much, huh? EA sure better tell Liz what he's up to, communication builds trust, and settles frayed nerves. Ha! Now Einar doesn't have the brains of a raven...well, guess it was bound to come to this, sooner or later. It would be good if he could tell Liz before heading out in search of whoever is leaving these strange fragments for the raven to find, but may not work out that way. BTW, that's a good load of aspen wood you got on that trailer. Glad I'm not the only one who hauls logs home and then cuts it into stove length at the home wood pile. Most folks I know cut it to size in the woods and haul the stove lengths home, never seemed very efficient to me. The longer sticks are easier to load and stack for the trip. It just rides better on the trailer if left long--much more stable load. If you're using a pickup truck to haul the wood it carries better if cut to stove length, but I like doing it this way. Then I get to cut and split at home. What no pictures from your time out this time? We always enjoy your pictures, almost as much as your stories Jo Sorry--here are a few. Beautiful time of year, here!
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Post by FOTH on Oct 11, 2011 15:19:48 GMT -6
Though the raven seemed willing enough to lead Einar to the spot where he had, presumably, found both the scrap of camouflage cloth and the electronic components that had comprised his latest gift, Einar found himself struggling to keep up. The bird seemed to understand, kept doubling back and landing heavily in the lithe, swaying tops of the little firs or spruces and waiting while Einar caught up but still the going was a good bit more slow than Einar had hoped. While at first he’d had in mind to try and swing by the cabin on his way down, check in with Liz and let her know what he was about the course set by the bird took them nowhere near the little clearing, and he abandoned that plan in favor of following the raven with as much speed as he could muster, taking a look at the source of the strange things the bird had been finding and if at that point no further action was required on his part, hurrying back up to the cabin to tell Liz about all of it. Seemed the best plan considering the circumstances; only wished he could keep himself moving a bit more quickly. Seemed the climb must have taken a good bit more out of him than he had initially realized. Well. One foot in front of the other, keep your eyes out for that bird and soon enough this’ll all be settled, and you’ll be on your way back home. Hopefully. Sure don’t want to leave Liz alone for too long at this point, but neither can I return to the cabin right now and carry on as if nothing’s the matter, with the possibility that there’s an active search being initiated right here in our area. Darkness. It snuck up on the busy pair, stalking them from behind the enclosing ranks of dark timber and finally caught up to them as Einar struggled up the steep side of a little gully--doggone raven must think I have wings, the way he’d leading me straight across country like this--and there was no way he could hope to keep track of the bird in the darkness, no way to follow him. After much effort and a badly failed attempt at keeping track of the creature by securing him with a length of cordage tied around a foot--Muninn had hated the confinement and had, besides, ended up tangled so badly in the branches of a spruce that Einar had been forced to climb up and cut him loose--he decided to hole up for a few hours, perhaps try for a bit of sleep and continue again at first light. Choosing a sleeping spot more by feel than by sight, Einar curled up beneath a spreading spruce, scraping together as many needles as he could for a bed and draping himself with the deer hide, which Liz had fortunately insisted he take along on his cache-placing trip. Wasn’t enough, that hide, but he hardly noticed, asleep within moments of allowing himself to lie down. Through the clear, frigid night Einar slept there growing colder and colder, dreaming of food as he lay shivering beneath the inadequate cover of the deer hide--could almost smell that mustard-basted goat roast, could taste it, tried to take a big bite but it stuck in his throat and he couldn’t swallow, was choking, dream turning bad--pressing his stomach against the hunger-hurt, curling himself into a ball and wishing for one of the bear hides, for Liz, for a bit of warmth and perhaps something to eat but it was all out of his reach and, body exhausted and near its limits after the exertion of the day, he never did wake to do anything about his worsening situation, wind whispering along the ground in its nightly wanderings, whispering him back to sleep.
Up in his treetop perch the raven stirred, ruffled feathers against the chill night breeze and was about to settle once more into sleep but instead opened an eye, soundlessly drifting down to alight beside Einar’s makeshift bed, tilting his head, curious. Something had changed, the man’s breathing slow and soft almost to the point of silence, and the bird was curious.
When Muninn ventured a bit closer and gave Einar a hard peck on the side of the head just above the left eye, he reacted with a speed rather greater than one might have expected of his badly chilled and sleep-fogged brain, hand darting out and coming away with a few iridescent black tail feathers, gleaming softly in the starlight as the startled raven hopped back, scolding. Stiffly, groaning a bit at the effort despite himself, Einar got up into a sitting position, wrapped arms around his knees and berated the bird in a voice rough and a bit unsteady at first with cold, but very definite in its intent.
“Hey now! With all the meat scraps and nights in out of the cold I’ve given you, can’t you perhaps extend me the common courtesy of waiting until I’m dead to start pecking out my eyes, you bloodthirsty old scavenger? Looks may be deceiving, but I’m not dead yet. I’m still here. Haven’t you ever heard the expression…surely you’ve heard it, growing up in the mountains like this…that a fella’s not dead, until he’s warm and dead? It’s true, you know. Proven that one to myself more than once. Now, do I look warm to you? In the least? Didn’t figure. So hold off on the eye pecking, won’t you? Choice morsels, I know, and probably just about the only thing left on this scrawny old carcass of mine worth making into a midnight snack, but I still need those things. Gonna get light here in a few hours, and then you and I got to be on the trail again, finding where all these little clues are coming from that you keep bringing me.”
The bird didn’t answer, and Einar had no more to say, either. Was starting to shake too hard to do much speaking. Wanted to curl up and go back to sleep, but knew he must not. Wanted a fire, too, but still doubted the wisdom of risking any such, with the location and exact nature of his quarry still in question. and didn’t even want to burn a few of the pitch coated pellets he always carried in the bag around his neck, lest the smell of their smoke carry and alert someone who might be camped nearby. Which left him few options when it came to getting warm, but he had to do something, could feel it, knew he’d be in major trouble should he allow himself to go to sleep once more, cold as he presently found himself. Knowing what he had to do he rose, legs cold and cramping and very nearly refusing to support him but he stuck it out, arm twisted somewhat desperately amongst the soft and flexible branches of the nearest fir until the worst of the cramping passed, and he was able to stand on his own, taking at first a few slow, shuffling steps and then increasing his pace until he was very nearly running in place, swinging his arms, trying hard to generate some heat. The exercise worked as he had known it would, should he be able to keep at it long enough, left him a good bit warmer for the moment but also entirely drained of what little energy he’d had left, dead tired and a bit nauseated, and he knew it wouldn’t be long at all before he was in serious trouble once again, if he allowed himself to lie back down.
If --silently laughing at the thought-- that bird was a dog or some such, I’d get him in here under the deer hide with me and curl up next to him, try to share some warmth but I’m guessing that wouldn’t go over too well with a raven. Wouldn’t do much good at all. Looks like I’m just gonna have to try and get some more of theses fir needles scraped up and piled around me, deer hide up over my head to trap some of my breath and wait for morning. Though not much use in directly providing warmth, the raven did once again bring Einar at least a partial solution to his dilemma when he hopped over to the pack and began doing his best to disassemble the thing in an attempt to get at a most wonderful odor that seemed to be emanating from within its confines, Einar hearing the fuss and crawling over to see what the creature might be up to.
“Trying to rob my pack, are you? Let’s see, what are you after?” Fumbling, he got the pack open, felt around inside with clumsy-numb fingers. “Ah! This! Must’ve been this you smelled, the goat roast Liz sent along, and yeah, you’re welcome to have some as long as I can share in the feast. I was dreaming about this stuff, you know. This and a big loaf of freshly baked wheat bread, slices all dripping with butter and honey and…oh, wow. Lizzie did mention something about lily flour fritters, or something similar, that she’d been experimenting with, and that must be what I just found here. Look, Muninn! You smell this? Looks like she must’ve cut the things open and spread them inside with bear fat and honey, and this is all so much like that dream of mine I can hardly believe it. Here, you big thief. Have some. Some of each. You earned it just by reminding me it was all there!”
Together the travelers shared a meal of cold goat roast and the dense, starchy bread-like creations Liz had made by pounding the roots of dried avalanche lilies and mixing the resulting powder with water and a bit of fat before baking them on a hot rock, the results tasting to Einar like the best bread he’d ever in his life had the privilege of eating, and the combination of protein, fat, starch and sugar in the meal giving him such a surge of warmth and energy that he felt he would have been quite safe to stretch out on the ground and sleep the remainder of the night away, but wanted nothing of the sort. Wanted to be up and moving, finding that camp so he could return to Liz and let her know what a very unbelievably good cook she had become.
But first he must wait for daylight.
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Post by thefishinmagician on Oct 11, 2011 17:51:14 GMT -6
Great new chapter! Between Liz's rabbit stick and Muninn's pecking, Einar just might get some sense beat back into him! LOL! Can't wait to see what he's chasing.
Incredible pics too, FOTH! Looks worlds different than my neck of the woods (maybe my neck of the beach is a better expression? ) ;D
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AlaskaSue
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One of the Frozen Chosen
Posts: 64
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Post by AlaskaSue on Oct 11, 2011 18:42:54 GMT -6
SO beautiful! Seems like a big helping of God's blessings and love to be in a place like that, doesn't it!? Just incredible and I'm happy for you to be out and about in it! That lovely picture of the valley is just breathtaking! Such a good chapter too, really glad for that raven's curiosity and that Einar got a good meal in him to see him through. I feel a little curious myself now...wondering what's in store!
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EdD270
Full Member
deceased
Posts: 201
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Post by EdD270 on Oct 12, 2011 13:06:58 GMT -6
Good going, Muninn, saved the EA critter again. Thanks for a great chapter, FOTH. I really enjoy learning of Liz's improvised recipes for cooking good stuff from what's available. Sadly, I'm not much of a cook, sometimes burn water when I try to heat it up, and most of the time I've not been able to duplicate Liz's success from what's posted in the chapters. I think it would be a good idea to post some of Liz's favorite recipes for wild foods in the "Recipes" or "Wild Edible and Medicinal Plants" topics here. And a special thanks for the photos, even though they make me homesick for CO again. The aspen are just starting to change around here, another week or two and they'll look like yours. I took a little wander with knapsack in the woods again in EA's honor. Sure pretty now. Had some good rains and snow recently and things are looking pretty good.
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