Fireweed Station Inn

Fireweed fields + Alaska Railroad tracks = Fireweed Station.

The fireweed is in full bloom right now, surrounding us in fields of magenta blossoms.  Epilobium angustifolium could be considered a weed, but it’s pretty and edible so we leave it to grow.

Here’s a description of fireweed found in one of my favorite plant books, “Discovering Wild Plants”, by Janice Schofield, “…a badge of nature’s rural renewal program.  No soil is too thin, poor or unlikely for fireweed…  Land devastated by fire gives birth to a blaze of fireweed”.  You can certainly imagine how the plant got it’s common name; even after the blooms have faded, the autumn turns leaves a fiery red, purple and gold, and if you’ve been drinking too much of the “stupefying ale” common in Kamchatka in the 1800’s made from fireweed pith, cow parsnip stems and amanita mushrooms, the downy fluff of the split-open seed pods may resemble puffs of smoke.

We can eat just about all parts of the fireweed plant; a great survival food or trail snack.  I’ve recently been making fireweed jelly with the blooms.  I saw jars of the jelly for sale at the recent Trapper Creek Fireweed Festival (yes, you should have been there - don’t miss it next year) and was convinced the cook had added food coloring.  Now I feel bad for dissing her skills as you won’t believe the naturally extracted colour.

Many Alaskans look to the fireweed for seasonal predictions: summer begins when the lower blooms first appear, the end is near when the top buds have opened.  The first snowflakes will fall 6 weeks after the fireweed’s seeds fly in the wind and the winter snowfall is going to be as high as the plants grew.

Blooms are about two thirds up the stem right now which makes me feel much better about all the 50* rain that’s falling.  Summer’s not over yet, I know the fireweed wouldn’t lie to me.