Dry land fish
Around here, folks guard their morel-hunting
grounds with as much secrecy (though less firepower) than they use on
their moonshine stills. I distinctly remember a friend of mine
telling me about the bags of morels ("dry land fish") he hauled out of
the woods one spring, adding that there were so many present that he
left behind over half of the mushrooms. "Where are they?" I asked
naively. "I'd love to gather some morels." "Oh, up that
holler there aways," he said vaguely, pointing his chin toward two or
three valleys in the distance.
Mark's friendships are obviously stronger than
mine. He came home
on Monday with a little mess of morels which he and his friend had
gathered together. 
I was ecstatic because I'd been dying to try
out my mushroom
cultivation techniques, and now I have the raw material to do
it. I cut the stem butts off and slapped them between wet
cardboard. Another fun experiment!
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About us: Anna Hess and Mark Hamilton spent over a decade living self-sufficiently in the mountains of Virginia before moving north to start over from scratch in the foothills of Ohio. They've experimented with permaculture, no-till gardening, trailersteading, home-based microbusinesses and much more, writing about their adventures in both blogs and books.
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