This weekend marked my first mushroom foray with the Illinois Mycological Association (IMA). I have been contemplating joining the group for some time, and when I discovered they were planning a family camping trip to Starved Rock, decided to join them.
We made the hour long trip to State Park on Saturday morning, first stopping off at the visitor center. There we picked up a trail map, and acquired some new field guides on birds and trees specific to Illinois. After a quick stroll by the river, we followed the trail to the top of Starved Rock. Legend has it that after the assassination of Chief Pontiac in 1769, the Ottawa retaliated against a tribe of Illini who then sought refuge on top of the rock. With no means of escape, the siege continued until all members of the tribe had starved to death. Today the rock provides visitors with a spectacular view across the Illinois River.
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| Plum Island |
My first foray for mushrooms took place later that evening. The girls wanted stay at camp, so I hitched a ride with a couple of the IMA members. Arriving first at the designated parking spot, we waited patiently for the other cars to arrive. When it became clear they were not coming, we started off on the trail and into woods. It was a pleasant stroll, and while we caught sight of various mushrooms, there were no morels. On our way back, we wandered slightly off the trail, and that was when I spotted something poking up through the leaves. It looked like a morel, but....not very appetizing. Our assumption was that it was a false morel, an opinion shared by others when we returned to camp.*
Later that evening, as the sun started to set, I made a mushroom pizza in the dutch oven. Apart from the fact it stuck to the bottom, which took some effort to remove, it tasted rather good. By the time we had finished eating, the campsite was dark and quiet. As a family, we are more used to camping where the nightlife is more lively than the day, so the serenity takes a little getting used to. There were no drums, only Junebugs (Phyllophaga)
The second fellow I came across was not so lucky. He was growing from a small twig on the ground, looking ever so lonely, so I decided to bring him back to the camp. I must admit, he was really cute.
As part of my quest to identify trees, I paid some attention to the oak behind the tent. Looking at the rounded lobes of the leaves, I knew it was a species of white oak. Given how the bark was grey and broken into rectangle blocks, my suspicion was that of Quercus alba, the State tree of Illinois.
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| June already? |
Later that evening, as the sun started to set, I made a mushroom pizza in the dutch oven. Apart from the fact it stuck to the bottom, which took some effort to remove, it tasted rather good. By the time we had finished eating, the campsite was dark and quiet. As a family, we are more used to camping where the nightlife is more lively than the day, so the serenity takes a little getting used to. There were no drums, only Junebugs (Phyllophaga)
In the morning, I took a little stroll behind the campsite, hoping to snap a photo or two of something interesting. About twenty feet away from the tent I came across a mushroom desperately trying to hide from me. He seemed quite happy chilling out with his companions: the five leaflet Virginia creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia), the white flowering cleavers (Galium aparine) with its whorls of seven leaves. So I left him be.
The second fellow I came across was not so lucky. He was growing from a small twig on the ground, looking ever so lonely, so I decided to bring him back to the camp. I must admit, he was really cute.As part of my quest to identify trees, I paid some attention to the oak behind the tent. Looking at the rounded lobes of the leaves, I knew it was a species of white oak. Given how the bark was grey and broken into rectangle blocks, my suspicion was that of Quercus alba, the State tree of Illinois.
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| White oak |
For the second foray, the girls decided to tag along with me. I like to think it was because they suddenly realized that mushrooms were indeed fascinating, but I suspect it had more to do with presence of other children. Along the trail, we met a rather large and scary looking spider, no doubt waiting to pray on some poor unfortunate mycologist.About thirty minutes into the walk, the skies turned angry, and it started to rain. We prudently turned around, and began to make our way back to the parking lot. The rain become heavier. Lightening flashed, and thunder rocked the canyon. By the time we reached the car, we were all drench to the skin. Oh goody, another wet pack out.
* Two days later at the IMA meeting, it was decided that it was actually yellow morel, Morchella esculenta.
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