Smokin' the Kinnikinnik

The species of kinnikinnik common to the Rocky Mountains is A. uva-ursi, a low-lying ground cover that occurs in dense mats and has thick paddle-shaped leaves and small, mealy red berries that look like the insides of apples when opened up.

A. manzanita, which is common to California, is also a member of the genus Arctostaphylos. It is similar to uva-ursi in flowers, leaves, and medicinal use, although it is a woody shrub reaching up to 10 feet in height. The plant is protected in California, according to Tilford. I know A. manzanita all too well from riding my snowboard out of bounds off the backside of June Mountain in California's Sierra Nevada. With the right amount of snow, the manzanitas hide just below the surface, and if you venture into their midst by mistake it's hard not to sink into them, causing you to become completely ensnared.

Anyway, all of the books I referenced consider kinnikinnik a substitute for tobacco, whether smoked on its own or in combination with other plants like the dried bark of the red osier dogwood. The Marchs' go a bit further and state that "Smoked in moderation it has a mild narcotic effect which is pleasant and relaxing on occasion."

The first kinnikinnik we found in the Rockies was on an island in the middle of a lake in Summit County, Colorado. There, we came upon several large patches of low-lying A. uva-ursi, from which we harvested a small bagful of the berries and low, short branches.

Kinnikinnik leaves should be dried out before smoking. We currently have ours drying slowly in a basket in the living room, although I have to admit we got a little excited and first dried out a few branches in the oven (at the lowest setting) so that we could try it out right away. Whether or not kinnikinnik causes "mild narcotic effects" is still up for debate in our house, although I will say that the smell is better than any incense I've tried--and it doesn't taste half bad either when smoked. Suffice it to say that the Native Americans must have known what they were doing. We smoked the kinnikinnik reverently and with appreciation for what nature had offered up to us, which is how I imagine we'll use it, on special occasions, henceforth.

Our experiment with the berries of the kinnikinnik was far less successful. We decided to give them a try with encouragement by Lee Allen Peterson in Edible Wild Plants (1977), who states that "although dry and not particularly inviting raw, the berries are quite pleasant when cooked and served with cream and sugar." In retrospect I think we must not have cooked the berries long enough, because they certainly were not tasty or pleasing at all when cooked in sugared water and served with milk; on the contrary, they were mealy and tasteless and full of big seeds.

Some wild edible plant guides talk about combining kinnikinnik berries with other fruits to make jellies and sauces after screening out the seeds. Perhaps if I figure out how to make jelly one day I'll try using these berries again. In the meantime I will keep in mind the Marchs' idea that the kinnikinnik berries make a good survival food, since they remain on the plant over the winter.