The mother lode

OUTDOOR

The morel mushroom season is a fickle one but there are three constants: You never know when it’s going to start, you never know how long it’s going to last, and you never know when it’s going to end. So when it’s time to ‘shroom, you don’t let grass grow under your feet I had a couple of really good days in a row of ‘shrooming so I headed out to get enough for one more meal. After circling the block a couple of times to make sure that I wasn’t being followed, I headed to the country. You can never be too careful when it comes to hunting ‘shrooms.

I decided to hunt in a spot where I had been a few days earlier. Whenever I pick over a spot, I always leave a couple or mush rooms and then I check back to see how they are holding up. I guess that’s my way to gauge how long the season is going to be. Another habit I have is to not pick any ‘shrooms if I only see a couple. I’m always looking for the motherlode where one great spot can provide enough for a meal or two.

As I neared the spot, I looked a little further down the hill and a tree caught my eye. It was the kind of elm tree that was in the perfect state of decay and I was willing to bet my mushroom bag that there was mushroom gold around it. When I got to the base of the tree, I pulled the brush back with my mushroom stick and I found six big mushrooms staring at me. I pulled back another swath of weeds and found six more mushrooms. Holy hot frying pan! I had found the motherlode.

I spent about a half hour around that tree and when I left my bag was full and I knew what I was having for supper. When you sneak out of the woods with so many mushrooms, you know that it’s been a great morel mushroom hunting day.

I got home, washed my bounty, and I fired up the one burner camp stove in the garage. I usually cook wild things in the garage because I know cooking there makes everything taste better.

I started my article mentioning the three constants about the mushroom hunting season. Well, there are three more that I need to add: I like hunting them, I like cooking them, and I really like eating them.

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BY DAVE BECK

My frying pan was filled with a tasty meal after I hit the mother lode. Photo by Dave Beck