There were water spigots every few campsites at the Mazama Campground at Crater Lake National Park in the 1990s. The water flowed well enough, but there wasn't much of a drainage system, so we used little or no detergent to wash our dishes when camping. In consideration for the people following us, it seemed best not leave a mass of dirty suds at the base of the faucet. The tin plates and plastic cups came out clean enough.

(Washing dishes under the great pines of Crater Lake has come to mind while I'm washing dishes in kitchens far from Oregon. The amount of detergent I use has grown smaller with every memory.)

Before going camping, our friends in western Oregon took us to orchards where berries and fruit were cultivated, not far from the Willamette River. We and the kids picked blueberries and sometimes raspberries too, to take with us to Crater Lake.

Once there, we sat at the picnic table taking fistsful of berries from the boxes, and eating wild salmon our friend had caught in Alaska and preserved in the smoke of alderwood. We were eating simply, yet came to know - this is a true feast. The taste of wild, fresh foods curls around the tongue and awakens the mind and heart.