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Freak Year for Fungi By Mark Freeman Jun 24, 2022 12:45 AM A A Late-season rain and low temperatures extend region’s morel season into June Jamie Lusch / Mail Tribune Mike Potts smells morel mushrooms near Howard Prairie Lake. Jamie Lusch / Mail Tribune Morels favor forest duff in areas disturbed by clearing and burning in the southern Cascades ASHLAND — Friday, June 17, had all the hallmarks of what has become a freak year for chasing fungi across the slopes of the southern Cascades. The .36 inches of rain set a new record for precipitation in Medford for that day. And the high temperature of a mere 60 degrees registered as the lowest high of all time for that date, according to the National Weather Service. To Jessie Ball, those numbers meant yet another weekend of scouring the forest floor for the top dray of spring — morel mushrooms. “Last year, it was already 100-degree days, and the morels were all gone,” Ball says. “When we woke up Friday and saw all that rain and cold weather, I told my husband, ‘It’s still on.’” By the following Sunday, the Balls scored another 7 pounds of delectable morels before lunch down the hill in Butte Falls. “Sure, we got soaked,” Ball says. “But that’s morel hunting.” One year after a short and largely underwhelming spring that spawned hot and dry days, this year’s spring morel hunt has been a boon for foragers enjoying a lengthy and bountiful season. Fueled by unseasonably cool and wet weather, the morel season began in March and has continued to reward foragers with fungi deep into June. Hunters armed with pocketknives and baskets were still finding these fine forest delicacies this week in public forests around 6,000 feet above sea level. They’re the last vestiges of the season, and more common hot temperatures this weekend likely spell its swansong. But what a season it was. “It was an excellent season for morels,” says Mike Potts, a Talent mychologist who regularly plies the Cascades “Especially compared to last season. Last season was pretty bad.” The hot and dry 2021 spring created a short picking season that saw slim pickings at anything but higher elevations. This year’s cool, wet spring that surprisingly filled Lost Creek and Applegate reservoirs also generated steady blossoms of morels under the damp forest duff. “The rain helps, but the cool weather really plays a role,” Potts says. That’s why this weekend’s triple-digit weather likely portends the death knell to this year’s morels. “I’d probably look above 6,000 feet,” Potts says of this weekend. “Work up to 8,000 feet. That’s where the trees associated with morels (like Douglas fir) don’t grow much.” Morels have a distinct honeycombed appearance, and they fruit in the spring as the snow recedes and the forest duff warms. They can be blond, gray, black or brown, and anywhere from an inch or so to 6 inches or more. They grow from spores that float on the wind and pop up in disturbed forest areas such as old logging roads, skid trails and recent burn scars. The fungi are prized by gourmet cooks, and commercial pickers fetch as much as $30 a pound for them. But average Joes have just as much right to cook like a chef with these fungi they legally can forage for free on federal forestlands, as long as they take no more than one gallon a day and 5 gallons a year. Recreational pickers are required to cut their morels in half to ensure they aren't later sold to mushroom buyers. Morel foraging starts on the Rogue Valley floor, with locales like Jacksonville Cemetery the first to sprout fungi. As the weather warms, mushrooms start to poke through the forest duff, incrementally gaining elevation, through May and into early June at best. But a funny thing happened this year. Unseasonably cool and wet weather caused the elevation climb for morels to creep to a crawl, allowing far more weeks of mid-elevation foraging than most years. Along with morels, spring fungi include king bolete, shaggy mane and puffball mushrooms. But morels are the overwhelming spring target for mushroom hunters because they are relatively easy to identify even for rookies who otherwise might fear their random forest forage could lead to stomach pains or worse. Find something that looks like a morel, and you can be quite confident it's the real McCoy. However, there are a few fakes. Morels love eco-chaos. Disturbed ground from logging operations, new forest roads and even last year’s wildfire zones can all be havens for morels. Potts likes to walk into the forest along paths less taken, eyeing pockets of land that get shots of sunlight between the firs. He hunts with a purpose, a steady gait while scanning the forest duff well in front of his boots. “They’re much easier to see 10 feet ahead of you instead of staring down at your feet,” Potts says. But when he spies some primo habitat — an open patch of disturbed ground or a space burned last year as part of a prescribed fire — Potts slows down. “When you find a small clearing with light, I walk slowly and really scan the area.” This year’s crop has included some massive morels well over a pound. But Potts’ keen eye spies a small morel the size of his thumbnail protruding proudly through the duff. “That one’s a little small,” he says, refusing to draw his pocketknife from his pants. “Someone else will find that and pick it this weekend, for sure.” Mark Freeman is the Mail Tribune’s outdoors writer. Find him at 541-776-4470 or email him at [email protected].