Local amateur discovers passion with the fungus among us

By Pat Stinson
Sun staff writer
First, a disclaimer. I am not a member of the esteemed Mycological Society of America, the North American Mycological Association, nor any organized amateur mushroom club. I am the lowliest of wild mushroom fanciers, a two-timing (spring and fall) picker of the rankest sort, perhaps best likened to a fisherman or woman who lazily drowns a worm once or twice a year in order to catch a common but tasty bluegill or rock bass.
I hunt and eat only two types of wild, edible mushrooms: spring morels and fall puffballs.

Of course, I’ve heard and read tales of edible wild mushrooms that taste like chicken or look like chicken, of “oysters” and “chanterelles,” and mushrooms with mysterious Latin names which, when translated in their common names, like “porcini,” sound like grocery store fare. Doubtless, I’m missing dozens of edible delicacies. I’ve also heard stories of self-proclaimed expert pickers poisoning themselves on mushrooms they’ve harvested “for years.” Even within my two preferred mushroom types are several indigestible and downright poisonous varieties. Armed with an Audubon field guide, a Michigan guidebook and sage advice from experienced pickers, I’ve managed so far to reduce the possibility of sprouting untimely fungi of my own.
Admiring colorful mushrooms of all sorts through a camera lens is my preferred way to make their acquaintance, with these two excellent exceptions.
I first learned about eating wild mushrooms when I was four, riding solo in the backseat of the family SIMCA. The old car and I were momentarily abandoned alongside a steep hill while my wool-clad parents foraged for fungi.
It may have been the bag of cookies they left to keep me company, or it might have been the mushroom-and-butter aroma later that evening which evoked my first and fleeting thought that my parents were onto something strange, but good.
Nineteen years later, a September camping trip in the Upper Peninsula’s Porcupine Mountains gave me my second taste of the wild mushroom variety. I had forgotten to pack the canned mushrooms for the Coleman-stove stroganoff. My companion disappeared in the woods for 20 minutes and returned with a half-full bread bag of white and creamy-looking ‘shrooms. Puffballs, he called them. Certain we would be poisoned and hospitalized for the rest of the trip, I ate sparingly of the cooked gems, (“gem-studded puffballs” they were), and spoiled my appetite instead on buttered noodles.
Two years later, a co-worker and friend discovered that I had moved north from suburbia and, breaking all rules of ‘shroom-picking secrecy, took me to one of her family’s favorite morel patches just south of the Leelanau County border.
My dumb luck continued when, shy of a month later, I met a stranger in a crowded Traverse City diner who took pity on my meager mushroom-hunting experience. He asked me which Leelanau County township I lived in and immediately disclosed the location of a bountiful hunting ground two miles from my house.
Many morel seasons passed. One day, I found myself standing in the checkout line at a local grocer’s. A busybody ahead of me took one look at my shrink-wrapped container of expensive mushrooms and declared, “You know, you can find those same things in the woods and they’re a whole lot cheaper.” In the space of 60 seconds, I met “Bob,” an amateur mycologist, (a person who studies as well as picks), who had recently retired to the area and was ripe for mushroom-picking companions. I smiled, wrote down “Bob’s” phone number and promptly misfiled it for what I thought would be future use.
Every year since Bob, spring and fall, I’ve trolled the edge of the woods near my home in search of the mother load of mushrooms, a fairy circle of black or yellow morels in spring, gem-studded puffballs in the fall, and the giant species of both types. The thrill of the search compares to finding hidden Easter eggs, but it’s the smell of the woods and the field, the call of the birds overhead and the dappled light under tall trees that is the true allure of the mushroom experience.
Mushroom resources for beginners and others: Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Mushrooms, the Mycological Society of America, the North American Mycological Association, and on the web: www.capsandstems.com, www.wildflowers-and-weeds.com, www.wildmanstevebrill.com, www.paghat.com, www.gloriamundipress.com