Chasing Jessie: The Blackberry Walk

Most days after work I exercise. Before I moved to Memphis, I was a bike commuter for two years in Athens, GA, climbing 6-9 miles of hills daily in weather ranging from 19°F to 92°F. I got used to it, donning a ski mask and windproof gear in the winter, and buckets of sunscreen in the summer. Honestly, I really liked the sweatiness, but I liked even more the constant physical activity in my day. Since moving to Memphis 9 months ago, my days have been starkly different. Out the door by 6:30 am, I hop in my car for a 16-minute highway commute. I hate car commuting. Hate it, hate it. No exercise. Wasting fossil fuels. Consequently I became a car-driving gym-goer. This habit has manifested itself at other times in my life and usually works away from the monotony eventually. For example, for nearly 4 years I minimized all gym appearances, except during bitter winter temperatures, in favor of rowing on the Chattahoochee River for Georgia Tech.

I Love Memphis graffiti art

Now back in the gym trying my best to maintain healthy compliance, I despise the reliance on a commute. Alas the weather has finally turned beautiful again, encouraging strolling a few times per week after work; I happily abandon the gym in favor of power walking. Mapping out a three-mile loop from the VA Hospital to downtown Memphis and back, I stay challenged and sweaty. On my second walk one 87°F afternoon, I discovered a wild patch of blackberries about 2/3 through that made my heart scream and shout with excitement. In an abandoned driveway/parking lot between two buildings, a 100-foot length patch of weeds, vines, and bushes grew. As I sped past the lot a few lone blackberries sparkled in the sun, grabbing in my eye. Whoa! Before I knew it, I was near skipping down this lot, popping berries in my mouth as my eyes jumped through the vines. (Note: I LOVE BLACKBERRIES!). What a treasure trove!

During my next walk, the temperatures were a few degrees warmer ~90°F, and I was coated head-to-toe in sunscreen. I anticipated arriving at my blackberry treasure chest about 2 miles into the walk. I started picking and quickly realized there were entirely too many ripe berries to consume at once. I pulled out my shirt and began collecting the berries there, knowing there was a clean ziploc bag in my car. Score! My shirt overflowed with antioxidants, collecting a few purplish stains in the process. About 1/2 way through my picking, I noticed mosquitoes hanging around my legs and arms. Swatting a few off, I picked faster. Swatting more and more and nearly finished, I realized it was time to abandon black(berry) gold territory.

View of Downtown Memphis from Mud Island

The next morning on Saturday, I casually went to a few yard sales. Around the third one as I walked to my car, I vainly looked at my legs in a mirror propped on the ground. OH! MY! GOSH! Not only had a few mosquitoes hung around my legs while picking, I had amassed more than 35 mosquito-bite welts on EACH LEG! There was no denying it, I feasted on blackberries while mosquitoes feasted on me! The next few days were full of insane itching desires and welt-covered-leg embarrassment.

Devastated at the potential abandonment of these delicious, wild, free blackberries, I cautiously approached on my next walk a week later. I was again near-bathed in sunscreen, but this day the temperature was even hotter: 95°F, heat index closer to 105°F. I approached. I saw my prize. I picked one; I ate it. I looked down at my legs; they were bare. I picked two, three, four. My legs still bare. Five six, ten, twelve. No signs of mossies. Out of fear, I was picking at double-speed and seemingly eating at double-speed, too. Before I walked away fifteen minutes later, my fingers were purple and my belly was slightly uncomfortable from mass, rapid-fire blackberry consumption. I was bit by zero bloodsuckers on this occasion and have no idea why I was previously attacked. What I do know for sure? I will be back again!