I remember, as a kid, growing up in the little town of Goliad, TX, my mom and dad used to take us kids with them to go pick Dewberrys. Where we lived, they grew wild. We would go out to the country and Dad would park on the side of a little gravel road. We would all, then, grab our little plastic buckets and hit the ditches. The Dewberries grew in the ditches and would cling to the fences around there, and there we'd be with our buckets picking berries. We would get probably 5 or 6 gallons of berries at a time. Mom would make preserves and jelly from them and sell them. We loved the Dewberries, but all the little thorns we had to reach through, over, and around, tore our little arms and hands to pieces. But, it was a small price to pay for the end reward !!!