Pedicularis 
I had a rare afternoon and evening with nothing planned, so a friend and I decided to go for a bike ride. We pulled out our bikes and started riding to the Berkeley Marina, hoping to get there for the sunset. John has always been a master of word play, and I love to join him in creating lyrical stories. So we were on our merry way, biking and making each other laugh and, at some point, we got to some old, unused railroad tracks that lay flush with the road. I was thinking about another friend’s story of how he had wiped out on tracks like these on his motorcycle when his tires got stuck as he tried to cross them, when my tires did the same thing and I suddenly wiped out. The whole thing took about 10 seconds. This was not the first or even second time I’d wiped out on a bike. The first time was on my own motorcycle 11 years prior. I was seriously hurt that time. I broke four bones in my ankle when my bike came down on me after I grabbed a fistful of brake when I missed a turn on a road that was incorrectly banked. This time I knew better and, as I went down, I pushed the bike away. I landed on all fours, and started to assess the damage. I had what looked like a torn blister on my left palm but everything else seemed relatively intact including, thankfully, the bike. My left palm now matched the right one, where I was nursing a blister I got from taking thorns off ocotillo I’d harvested in the desert to make into medicine. As I got back on my bike, John suggested that I may have fallen to even myself out. I laughed and we continued our ride.
When we made it to the Marina, we rode around looking at and listening to the red-winged black birds. There was no sunset, but there was a sweet light rain that felt more like mist, and it was evocative of the northern coast – both in feel and look. It was that time of day when everything except for the vibrant green on the marina grass and the street lights was silver – 10 percent grey to be more precise – a bit brighter than that 18 percent Kodak grey I’d lived with over 300 days per year for four years in Rochester.
Returning home, I realized I was in need of some first aid. I had no fresh or dried yarrow, so I cleaned my hands well and got my yarrow tincture and applied it directly under the flap of the skin I’d ripped during my bicycle fall. I applied another few drops to the still-healing blister from processing the ocotillo. The flap of skin on the first wound I’d pulled off, and every time I washed my hands or did dishes or got it wet, the not-quite healed skin cracked open again. The yarrow tincture stung like mad, initially but, within two hours, the skin on the new wound had sealed itself shut, and the crack in the old wound had sealed, as well. I sat for a while to process photos I’d taken on my trip to Anza Borrego, when I noticed my body was starting to hurt – a lot. I got up and, limping because I’d obviously sprained my left ankle, as well, I ran a bath and added a generous dose of Epsom salts. I sat in the bath for a good 45 minutes and, when I got out, nothing hurt except my ankle, but that continued to hurt – a lot. I had made an Aralia/Pedicularis tincture that week, after trying the combination in the desert. I had recently harvested the Pedicularis, commonly known as lousewort, which is indicated for sprains and muscle pain. Aralia, commonly known as California spikenard, is anti-inflammatory, while it tones and serves as a modifier to the limbic system during physical stress. The two work beautifully together, and I took one and a half dropperfuls. It then occurred to me that I might be better served taking an acute dosing strategy. It can be very effective to take 2, then 4, then 6, then 8, then 10 drops of a tincture formula, every 15 minutes for up to an hour and 15 minutes, wait a few hours, then repeat.
Aralia californica
I’d already taken a good amount of tincture, so I decided to experiment and do the acute dosing strategy backwards. I wanted to get more of the medicine, but I didn’t want to overdo it. Backing off seemed as logical a way as any, so I gave it a try. For the next hour, I took increasingly fewer drops of the formula. It got late and I was exhausted, so when I was down to two drops, I took them and went to bed. When I awoke, with the exception of the slightest twinge, the ankle that I could barely walk on the night before was completely fine and both hands were happy and healed enough to take on the pile of dishes that awaited me in the kitchen!
I’ve been fully enmeshed in herbalism for years, yet I continue to be in awe of the gifts of our herbal friends. I have come to understand that, as I develop unique and special relationships with each herb, we are developing an unbreakable bond. I sense in the medicine a craving to be known and understood for their healing gifts. The plants eagerly bestow their healing upon those of us who spend time with them, get to know them, love them and treat them with reverence and respect. I am reminded, again, how much we need each other. As I go about my day pain-free and fully mobile, I remain in gratitude.