Saturday, April 13, 1991
Not being an early riser by choice, I was alarmed at 8 am. on Saturday,
April
13, 1991 when our telephone took me from a world of dreams into
another more beautiful place. On the other end of the line was Don
Harris, a Realtor in Cleveland, Tennessee. He was up and ready for
a trip into the mountains to dig Ramps. The sky hung heavy with
clouds. As we caught our first glimpse of Big Frog Mountain a white
cloud was ringed above the summit as a jauntily placed diadem.
We proceeded East on U.S. Highway 64 to Cherokee Corners. There we
turned South and continued through the Spruce, Fir, White Pine, and
Hemlock forests to the Sylco Campground. Beyond the campground a
Forest Service Road came in from the left, out of the mountains
above. This road's terminus is Copperhill, Tennessee, or Thunder
Rock Campground at the powerhouse along the Ocoee River, depending
upon which fork in the road is pursued. The "Big Frog Loop Road"
turns to the right. There is a parking area four miles from the
turn, with a trail leading up the ridge of the mountain. We were on
the Big Frog Mountain.
At the entrance to the trail, the Forest Service has placed a point
of registry for the safety of those using the woodlands. We signed
in and started the climb. The trail up the mountain is wide and
ascends in a gentle rise upward. We were entering an area of
diverse flora. The Dogwood were not in full bloom as were their
lowland cousins. Rhododendron and Laurel were around us, waiting
for warmer days, in which to bloom. Ratbane (a local name) formed a
two-toned ground cover adding mystique to the time and place.
Bluets and the white Starwart, like jewels, adorned the way up.
Purple and yellow Violets, wild Pansies, and the dwarf Iris dotted
the sides of the trail.
A strong breeze swept across the narrow ridge as we ascended the
mountain. Swirls of fog obscured the profiles of the distant ridges
and drew a curtain close about the hikers. At times rich, bright
spots of sun, shining between the clouds, highlighted patches of
the valleys below. The trail was the only visible sign of
civilization. The setting was most inspiring. The LORD has many
churches. That was truly a Sylvan Cathedral. The wind in the trees
was the choir and the sermon was in the heart of the hiker.
About one-and-a-half miles along the trail we dropped our backpacks
and slipped over the edge of the ridge into a wooded patch of
Ramps. Each plunge step exposed rich, black, humus soil quilted to
the face of the earth in a cover of stone and deadfalls. Tall trees
stood around us in an area free of shrub undergrowth. The steep
grade, emerald green with Ramps, curved away as a huge, empty,
amphitheater awaiting the start of a play by woodland Gnomes. The
patch must have covered five acres of the high eastern slope of the
mountain. This was my first view of the Ramp. This was the end of
our pilgrimage.
Mountain lore tells that the Indians and the pioneers have come to
the mountains for centuries to dig Ramps. Their diet in the winter
did not include fresh greens and the appetite was ready for
Pokeweed and the Ramp, when spring began to warm the precipitous
slopes. Mankind was not the only one that came to eat the early
green shoots of these plants. The Boar, Bear, Turkey and other of
nature's children sought out the Ramp Patches in the lengthening
days of spring.
Botanists consider the Ramp a member of either the Amaryllis
Family, Amaryllidaceae, or the Lily Family, Liliaceae. The plant's
scientific name is ALLIUM TRICOCCUM. Some people call them Wild
Leek or Wild Onions. The Onions and Garlics are close relatives of
the Ramp. The leaves are flat, from three inches wide to a foot
long, and are a soft green color with faint vertical veins. The
leaves grow from the ground in the spring and die back in summer so
that it is difficult to find them in that season. In June a
leafless flowering stem appears with several greenish-white flowers
on its tip. Some people believe that the Indian word CHECAGOU is
the word from which CHICAGO got its name. The word refers to the
smell of the Ramp.
The False Hellebore grows in the same environment as the Ramp. In
fact, they grow in the same patches, and look very much the same.
The leaf of the False Hellebore is heavier veined than that of the
Ramp, and is wider in proportion to its length. The Ramp has a
reddish-purple stem down to the soil line, while the False
Hellebore is white all the way down. The Ramp tastes much as the
onion, in fact, more as the wild onion that grows in your lawn.
They leave a strong odor to the breath when eaten raw. The roots of
the Ramp are finer than those of the False Hellebore. It is said
that the False Hellebore will make one ill if eaten.
I had expected to find a large onion like bulb at the base of the
Ramp, but they are more the size of the scallion, or green onion.
The roots entwine with the rock in the soil and must be dug with an
instrument such as a hunting knife. If they are pulled without
digging, the tops will break free, leaving the bulb in the ground.
The Ramps have been dug for generations as food, and there are
still many patches of them growing in the higher elevations of the
Eastern United States from Quebec to Georgia, and west to Iowa and
Minnesota. There appears to be no policy of protection from
becoming extinct due to over digging.
In Cosby, Tennessee crowds of 20,000 to 60,000 people gather to
feast on the Ramp with trimmings. There is the White Top Mountain
Ramp Festival in Damascus, Virginia, and one in Waynesville, North
Carolina. Richwood, West Virginia appears to be the birthplace of
the Ramp Festivals for the United States.
Each year in the community of Benton, Tennessee there is held, in
the month of April, an affair called "THE RAMP TRAMP". On Thursday
the interested parties converge on the Ramp patches, digging a
supply for the following Saturday. On Saturday the community hosts
a feed which is complete with Blue Grass music and
feasting on Ramps. The Ramps are prepared as one would normally fix
the green onion.
They can be cooked with Pokeweed (Poke salet, as the oldtimers call
it), or fried with bacon, adding eggs at the proper time. Brown
hash potatoes accommodate the taste of Ramps, when added at the
last minute. These are all skillet dishes and are not for low-
calorie diets. The Ramp can be added raw to salads, put into
hamburgers raw or in any other way that one could use the uncooked
green onion.
It is a wonderful experience to savor the ways of our ancestors,
and not forget the simple pleasures that they enjoyed. May the Ramp
and those who pursue them be with us forever.