Hunting for Morels

Seven Steps to a Successful Morel Hunt

Every spring, my sweetie and I take each other on a date.  Planning begins almost a year in advance, as we keep one eye on The News waiting to find out...Where's the fire?

Because a fire there will be; it's almost guaranteed.  Besides the fact that western Montana's settling into ten-or-so years of drought conditions, fire is a natural part of a healthy forest ecosystem, and a routine occurrence here in the semi-arid west.  Our noses start twitching round-about July, because where there's smoke there's fire, and where there's fire there's mushrooms.

Theories abound regarding why morels grow in burn areas.  As there seems to be no consensus on this issue, and any speculation leads us far into the depths of fungal physiology, let's just suffice it to say that the year after a medium-to-high intensity forest fire, you can expect to find a bumper crop of the illustrious Morchella species.  Folk wisdom tells us that the morels start fruiting when the Bluebells (Mertensia) are in bloom--depending on elevation, anywhere from May to early July.  Everything about morels rests on a fine balance. You need enough rain, but not so much they rot away.  Enough warmth, but preferably overcast days.  Enough fire, but not scorched barren earth.  The hunt for a perfect spot rests as much on intuition as it does on preparation.  Here's a bit of what I've learned over the years.   

1.  Go Early, Go Deep

Fire morels will continue to pop up the second and even third summer after the burn, but it pays to get right in there.  Around here, it's no secret that fire=mushrooms.  Burns in non-remote wilderness areas will quickly be overrun with pickers (and there's nothing more disappointing than stumbling on a prime patch, only to find footprints and stem-nubs).  You either have to get up there early, or be willing to hike the long haul and boldly go where no picker has gone before.  

This year, there was just a near-vertical climb and a thunderous river crossing between us and the Super Secret Morel Gloryland.  Had a hard time walking the next day.  Worth it?  Definitely. 

2.  Know Where to Look

No mushrooms here.  We head for water (usually as simple as looking for deciduous shrubs in a forest of scorched conifers) then prowl the edges.  The ground is spongy, slick, black, often covered in a layer of needles.  The smell of burn and pine is intoxicating.  

As a general rule, where you find one, you'll find more.  The "mushroom" you see is just the fruit; the real substance is an interconnected underground web of mycelium.  Oftentimes you'll find them circling the dripline of half-burned trees.  So indeed, head for the trees, but... 

3.  Don't Trust the Trees

Or anything else in a burn area, for that matter.  You'll often find yourself on steep hillsides, where instinct tells you to pull up on those sturdy-looking trunks for support.  Come to find out that trunk is no longer attached to any sort of base, and only serves to clunk you on the head before sending you tumbling down the mountainside like a snowball.  There are also bound to be heavy rocks that are easily jogged loose from their soft, ashen beds.  And the worst of the tricksters--"root holes", we call them.  Empty cavities where tree roots have burned away, leaving a gaping hole, covered with litter like a pit trap, just waiting to twist your ankle.  Dangerous business, this mushrooming.  And speaking of which... 

4.  Beware of Impostors

Morels are fairly easy to identify.  They look like a honeycombed sponge, they're hollow, and their cap is fused to their stem.  The two most likely lookalikes that might throw you off are the False Morel, Gyromitra esculenta 

and the Early Morel, Verpa bohemica,

both of which are potentially toxic.  Best not to mess around with questionable fungi, as a good general rule of thumb. 

5.  Be a Smart and Considerate Harvester

This goes beyond the general rule of giving other pickers their space.  It's a harvest, not a raid.  There are a few simple techniques to ensure the patch you pick will keep producing in the future.  Never rake forest litter in search of buried mushrooms; this disrupts the soil and results in overharvesting.  Pinch the mushroom off just above soil-level, so as not to disturb the mycelial mat underground.  Don't pick really tiny mushrooms, as tempting as it may be.  And tread lightly, as soil compaction can be devastating to burn areas.

6.  Don't get Caught with your Pants Down

Rules, rules, rules.  Morel hunting is so popular, there are a whole slew of regulations to keep it from running amok.  The rules vary according to region.  You definitely need landowners permission, and you might need a permit on state land.  This year, we got our free recreational permit from the Bitterroot National Forest offices, which allows us 5 gallons per day per person, up to 20 gallons for the season.  There are fees and different regulations for commercial permits. 

7.  Share the Bounty

To be honest, the thrill of the treasure hunt is the real reason I do this.  For me, finding the little camouflaged jewels in the burnt rubble far outweighs the feast that awaits.  But yes, they're delicious and earthy and wild-tasting, a forest delicacy teetering between primitive and refined.  Share them with friends.  It somehow improves the flavor. 

One Final Note

While we're all about helping everyone share in the joys of mushroom hunting, we're not about to give up our secret spots.  You'll have to discover those on your own.  Happy hunting!

*Click here for a good summary of how to process and store your harvest.

*Visit this USFS site to find active burn areas.

Spotlight On...Blue-eyed Mary

Blue-eyed Mary

Collinsia parviflora

Scrophulariaceae (Figwort Family)

Quick ID:  

The hard part isn't being able to identify Collinsia, but being able to spot it in the first place. The flowers are tiny, rarely more than a few millimeters across.  Luckily they're often found growing in groups, on relatively bare ground.  Look for little snapdragony-type flowers growing on red, hairy stems with narrow linear leaves.  The entire plant is just a wisp, really, and a mass of them blanketing the ground is an enchanting springtime delight.

Delightful though they may be, they are also notoriously hard to photograph.  Here, Blue-eyed Marys dot the ground along with Larkspur, Shooting Star, Biscuitroot and Woodland Star.  Kootenai Creek tumbles below the hillside.

Range:

You'll find Collinsia in moist, shady forests, often growing where other plants are sparse.  Its large range extends throughout the southern parts of Canada, south to Texas and east to Colorado.  In Montana, it's mostly found in the southern and western parts of the state.

What's in a Name?

Who is this Mary lady?  There have been a few rather famous Marys throughout history (it was the #1 most common name in 1900, and still remained there as of 1990), so I guess the mystery isn't quite as intriguing as if the plant was called...say, Blue-eyed Leah, but still.  It seems the origin of this particular moniker is lost to us; I certainly can't find any mention of it.

Scientific names are much easier to track down.  Collinsia is named in honor of Zaccheus Collins, VP of the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences around the turn of the 19th century.  Thomas Nuttall named the genus after him, and David Douglas named the species in 1827.  The Latin word parvus means small-in this case, small flowers (parviflora).  There are 19 species of Collinsia, including one with "giant" flowers, aptly named C. grandiflora.

Members of the Scrophulariaceae family (or "Scrophs", as we plant geeks like to call them) are named for scrofula, which they're supposed to cure.  Scrofula is an archaic word for certain forms of tuberculosis, some of which are spread through unpasteurized milk (the Latin scrofule means "brood cow").  To further yuck it up, Scrophs have also been used to treat hemorrhoids, which in the olden days were known as "figs" (hence the common name "figwort family"--wort generally meaning "a plant").  Hemorrhoid plants.  Yikes!      

Tidbits:  Other Scrophs include penstemon, snapdragons, paintbrush, foxglove and monkeyflower.  All have characteristic corollas (petal arrangements) with upper and lower "lips".  In Collinsia, the upper lip is usually lighter than the dark blue lower lip.

There are brief mentions of Blue-eyed Mary being used by the Kayenta Navajo as a "plant to make horses run fast", and Ute tribes used it externally on sore flesh.

Wild gardening:

Collinsia is one of those sought-after plants that enjoys shade and can tolerate shallow soil.  It also has a long bloom season (Apr-July) and will establish and spread easily if there's not too much competition from surrounding plants.

This is an annual plant; it grows from seed produced the previous season rather than surviving by underground storage structures.  You can start collecting seeds (a somewhat tedious endeavor) in late May, and sow them outdoors in the fall.
This is a great example of how wild gardening conveniently mimics natural systems.  Plants drop their seeds in the fall, and wait for spring moisture and temps to be right for germination.  You can do the same thing.  It takes the guesswork out of the equation, and the plants will thank you for it.  Come spring, you can sit back and enjoy the show.  

Spotlight On... features Montana native plants that are currently on display in our natural areas.  Have a plant that you'd like to see featured?  Let us know!

Kootenai Nature Ramble

Kootenai Nature Ramble

I can't think of anywhere I'd rather have been today than strolling with my sweetheart through Kootenai Canyon.  A mellow trek through the heart of the Bitterroot Valley, sidling past shear cliffs to the roaring tumble of Kootenai Creek, around every bend a new sign of spring's rise and shine...it was a lucky day to be alive, indeed.

I saw my first Woodland Stars (Lithophragma parviflorum) of the season.

and the Western Trillium (Trillium ovatum) blanketed the forest floor.

We caught a charming little Gartersnake (Thamnophis sirtalis), which brought my snake-spotting count for the season up to five!

When the snake slithered off into a nearby hole, it led us to our best find of the day: this big ol' Western Toad (Bufo boreas).

He sat guarding the snake's hole like a sentry.  He was almost as big as Derf's face.

What a delight.  Farther on down the trail, we saw Ribes just about ready to flower...

...Clematis occidentalis leaves unfurling...

...and Hooker's Fairy Bells (Prosartes hookeri) in full bloom.

As we approached the burn area from summer 2009, one hillside in particular was blazing with wildflowers:

The pollinators were relishing in the new nectar sources.  Here's a Mourning Cloak (Nymphalis antiopa, MT's state butterfly) visiting a blooming willow (Salix)

Back near the trailhead, a peculiar bird caught my eye with it's darting acrobatics.  What at first seemed to be a huge swallow turned out to be a bat, cruising around in broad daylight.

An enchanting end to a perfect day.  What I can't show you in these photos is the call of the Osprey swooping overhead, the acrid earthy smell of the conifer needles underfoot, or the feeling of a warm and welcome breeze at your back.  Get out there.  Let me know what you discover.