In a previous post I talked about mushroom spawn in Alaska. In the conclusion of the column I can add still a couple more advice about how to collect these most yummy fungi. To begin with, allow me to explain to you special mushroom hunting episode that I failed to mention in my prior post. It occurred to me and my then nearly eighty year-old Dad across the banks of the Taku River back in the mid 1970’s. My buddy, Ron Maas, had invited us to see him and his wife, Kathy, in their afterward owned family company, Taku Glacier Lodge. Supplies generally arrived in the lodge by ship or barge, but people usually got there by float plane. Not only was that Dad’s first flight in a small airplane, it was also one of those very few times since arriving in America that he strayed over a few miles away from his home in San Francisco. His ridiculous remark to our hosts had been, “My son phones me to state that we’re going mushroom hunting together, however I must fly all of the way to Alaska to a jet and take a float plane to get there – absurd. ”
Ron and Kathy operated the lodge along with the adjoining about 20 acres of heavily forested land for a tourist attraction, but this afternoon the bribe has been closed to the general public. Therefore, the four of us were going mushroom hunting. Ron had previously seen a few big white puffballs (calvatia gigantea) and he wanted us to view them to assure him that they were edible It had been along a path barely broad enough to adapt Ron’s older jeep truck that people rode along looking for the puffballs but secretly hoping to discover the elusive, deliciously famed king boletus (boletus edulis). After hours of fruitless tramping from the bear sign packed forests, I proposed that we should possibly give it up for the afternoon – that the mushrooms only weren’t growing nonetheless. When Ron watched a heap of scat that was stea ng on the tail gate and riding backwards but nevertheless searching for mushrooms. As we neared the open grassy area around the lodge but nevertheless inside the surrounding forest, Dad cried out a loud “STOP. ” Ron did just that, and Dad hurried back to the forests.