[shroom god]

We all awakened with the cadence of nature. The season of renewal drove us into the woods. There, the signs of time's immemorial cycle screamed--the buds of trees, and occasional bee, the burst of the earliest of spring's most prolific greens; and the greens merged and mixed with a multiple palette of violets, whites, blues, an occasional red or yellow, and we were suddenly alive.

Our first forays, tho perhaps unfruitful, were fulfilling none the less. Eyes adjusted to the seasonal hues. Our senses--so sluggish from winter's long captivity--were suddenly freed (as if the Bastille itself were breached). We ventured tentatively at first, and soon the torrent of it all converged in that long-awaited magic moment when the eye sights the very first morel of the season! Then more, and more, more....all under one lone, early-producing elm. For me it was April 19, northern Washington County--game on! The first anyone local had heard of. Finally, a victory.

Once again, like nearly countless seasons past, that instant is emblazoned in my psyche and becomes an enduring part of my becoming (we are all always becoming). At some point, such seasonal experience may seem to exceed one's innate nature and I sometimes wonder if my distant ancestors, millennia removed, have somehow bestowed upon me the "gift" of such acute communion with the woods, especially the annual spring renewal. I live for this. Those who can relate understand "that moment" when it all converges in one's sight--"there's one!" and a smile seems to fill one's soul. It is a tragedy that this feeling is confined by the bounds of one's lifetime, but all the more reason to feel the magic of the moment in the marrow of one's bones.

And so another memorable season came and went. In every way conceivable I feel richer for having immersed myself in this annual rite--this reunion and exercise of earth faith-- and become quite the "wilder" for it. Having spent 17 days in the woods, I'm changed. I desperately crave Thoreau and <em>Walden.</em>

Alas, having returned a few weeks ago--involuntarily--to the path of civilization, arms scarred from the terrific fortress of multiflora, buckthorn, and assorted brambles and briars, I'm uncertain where this path will take me. However, I do realize that I am not the person I was a month and a half ago. I'm struggling to get back. Perhaps I will make it...

I suspect I may, as I've already begun the countdown to my prediction for my first finds of 2016: 318 days and counting.

We're going in the right direction.

To all the friends I've made here, high-fives. May the passage of the seasons and return of another spring be sweet and swift, filled with all the joys and wonders and thrills that a life lived in close concert--<em>symphony</em>--with nature guarantees.

Season's end thoughts, my friends?

 

[buckthornman]

It doesn't end! It's just the beginning! There's more mushrooms and wild living to be had. The morel is just the beginning. There is no end in this journey. Just space between. Don't sit live wild! Be wild! Explore find that first chicken,chant,hen or puffball. Feel that first again and again....into the thorn! Pass on the knowledge! There's a trap door in the sun. Immortality......

 

[huntergatherer]

Had a great year, worked hard and found enough to make it worth the trip, put around 4000 miles on my truck, hunted about ten days dark to dark, was ready for it to be over, next year i hope spend a little more time and take it easier, now it's time for old corvettes, bicycles and bird dogs, hunting season starts in about 3 months and i can't wait, thanks to shroom god and everyone on the board for the info i need to make it back home to the sioux city area in time to find a few morels, it was a strange year, wet, dry, hot cold and all in a weeks time, then it was over, hope to see you all again next April

 

[kb]

My morel season always begins like its Christmas morning and i am 8 years old again. That is the only way to describe it. Only I get to to do it over and over for weeks. The end is always like the last week of summer at 8, misery,you know it is coming but are trying to deny it. Picked a lot of great morels from the strip pits of SE Kan./hell to the Loess Hills of NW Iowa/Heaven, and if you are Catholic my purgatory was the burnt up Mo. river bottoms. Got a call from a friend going to Montana right now to pick burns. I can't go though due to relatives coming to town. Climbing up and down mountains is a lot of work anyway. Sure is cool out there though.

 

[shroom god]

Buckthorn, you never cease to amaze me. You're a hardcore, woods-poundin' shroomer who's always stoked. I need to borrow the page from your book and transition to the next phases as the season unfolds. I nearly walked myself to death and--seriously--after over two solid weeks of going feral I found it challenging to return to civilized life and interact with people. I returned to work (a test publishing company) with bushy, unkempt hair, arms ravaged, scratched and scabbed from dense thorn thickets, and wild eyes and a general mannerism that went to painstaking ends to avoid contact with others. During the spring I exist in the mental frames of two worlds, past and present.

HunterGatherer, I admire your transitional diversions. Mine are comparatively modest--digging for antique bottles, fishing for crappie, and partying. My counterpart to the classic 'vette is a Jeep TJ Wrangler, undergoing some upgrades. And mobile audio--clean amps, speakers, subs, and music of all genres that can push it to the limit. That pup is beautiful. I've never owned a gun or hunted mainly because I'm too busy fishing and digging, but I note there are a lot more pheasants this year than the last few. Your pics of the shrooms rock. When in college at Storm Lake I used to hunt in NW Iowa and routinely had real good luck in the Peterson and Linn Grove area--interesting glacial history there.

Kb, you kept hitting the ground and grinding it out through good and bad. Your experience seemed to mirror mine, good days and bad, a very uneven season around here in Washington and surrounding counties. You followed them north; I intended to but was literally shroomed out after so many consecutive days. I was hurting. I admire your persistence and endurance. You know full well that serious shrooming is physically demanding (quite unlike a casual stroll in a manicured woods along a mowed path with a wicker basket). So, yeah. Power to ya! My daughter hunted in the MT burns last year in SW corner, Lolo Valley area. She needed a permit and by law they make them split the shrooms lengthwise. They're everywhere. People use plastic 5 gallon buckets to collect them. Strange. She went twice and filled her bucket each time--but because they weren't so elusive as ours she missed the thrill of the hunt. Not sure if she's going this year or not; she's in Denver now. I hope you stocked some away for cold weather. 4 gallon bags stuffed and in the freezer here. And when the snow falls...sizzle.

Countdown to April 15, 2016...

 

[swi shroomer]

I had probably my best season and likely one of the most enjoyable as I was finding lots every time out. They were all wheres and in good numbers. Thrilling stuff. I shouldn't do it but I have found myself wondering if I will ever have as good a season again. I am sure gonna try! Been difficult letting go and moving on post-season because there's nothing in my world I enjoy as much as hunting morels. It's been great following everyone here on the board. Another cool part of morel season. Thanks for starting this and other threads Shroom god. Best to you and everyone else.

 

[shroomtrooper]

Hey shroomgod, time to get out and get some oyster mushrooms and chickens. Oldelm been doing good this year.

 

[huntergatherer]

Was hunting birds in Montana near the North Dakota border almost to Canada a couple of weeks ago, [ mid oct ] and ran across a few morels in the edge of a wheat field near some buffalo berry bushes, very soggy and dirrty, couldn't save em, but it spoke of the prospects of spring shrooming in the midwest, happy fall and winter everyone!

 

[shroom god]

That's simply BIZARRE. I've got one too--a colleague mentioned she found one here in Johnson Co. Iowa on Nov.28. Bear in mind this is AFTER frosts, after SNOW, then rain, and during a stretch of temps ranging from 7 to 50 degrees. It was found in her backyard, southern exposure, under a pear tree. What the hell is going on? I suspect these aberrations will become more prevalent as the effects of climate change manifest.