I’ve been hunting mushrooms for decades. I am good at it, and am even considered something of an authority on the subject of wild edible mushrooms.
Most of my experience is in the West, however. So when I moved to Minnesota, I found myself, while not back at zero, damn close. Almost none of the environments here are the same as where I routinely found mushrooms in the West. And there are so many new mushrooms to learn I feel sometimes like a newbie all over again.
But I am learning. Fast. Thanks to four people: Alan, Jaime, Chris, and Mike — my mushroom mentors.
All are Minnesotans, all but Mike born and raised here. They know where and when to go, what to look for, and in the case of Alan and Mike, their knowledge of edible mushroom species far outstrips my own, at least here in the Midwest.
It has been humbling, but also exciting.
Even easy, common mushrooms like morels and chanterelles have their differences here. The species are different — wildly in some cases — they show up in sometimes radically different times and places from what I am used to, and there are even caveats to watch out for that don’t exist in the West, notably that black morels (Morchella septentrionalis) in northern Minnesota are known to make you sick if you eat them, even cooked, while drinking alcohol.
Porcini are another. I just found a whole bunch of them — or what passes for Boletus edulis here in Minnesota — a few days ago. In June. This is supposed to be a fall mushroom in these parts, and indeed last fall’s flush was unreal. I am used to my pals Boletus rex-veris and Butyriboletus primiregius in California in June; I met up with Holly and gathered a bunch there a few weeks ago. But not here. Maybe I should get used to Minnesota porcini in June, I dunno?
Then there is the galaxy of new mushrooms I am slowly discovering. Well known to my mentors, these are “secret” shrooms and are often rare treats. Indigo milk caps, cornflower boletes, species of gyromitra new to me — even a delicious milk cap mushroom that smells like sweaty sex; definitely something I can get behind.
Make no mistake: I’d still be learning all this stuff were I solo, just a lot more slowly, with way more dead ends. But each of my friend-mentors has shown me the ropes, and their spots, and it’s been immeasurably helpful. I sit here a grateful man.
All of this is not limited to mushroom hunting.
Just to stay within the wild foods arena for a moment, I have had a similar experience with striped bass. I’ve caught thousands in my native Northeast. But stripers have been stocked and naturalized in many places, and what works in New Jersey is not likely to work in Lake Havasu in Arizona or Lake Lanier in Georgia. Deer hunting is the same thing: You may know your stuff when it comes to deer where you live, but put yourself in a new environment, and even the familiar whitetail may well fool you.
But it goes well beyond food even.
We humans are good at developing skills, and many of those skills are not easily lost. I recently played my first game of Ms. Pac Man in literally decades and did well enough to post a ranking score. Once the game started, my ancient memories of patterns and strategies in that game took over and I played without thinking.
That said, we can become too comfortable, smug even, with our well earned skills. We’re “good at” this or that. But when it comes to expanding our skills, especially as adults, well, that’s not so easy. Uncomfortable even. God knows I know this: I learned Spanish only a few years ago, and it was one of the toughest things I’ve done. And you better believe I needed teachers, friends, and mentors.
Should you be lucky enough to find someone willing to show you their skills, recognize that gift for what it is. Listen, be grateful, and ask questions, even if they seem stupid. A mentor has let you in. Enjoy the ride.
As a mid 20's outdoorsman I have had countless mentors through my life. Only recently have I been able to begin repaying my debts as a mentor to other folks. It's an incredible feeling to pass on the gift of knowledge and has only made me more grateful to everyone that has helped me along the way.
We all look back at some point and realize who our teachers have been.