Mushrooms, We Don't Need No Stinkin' Mushrooms.
It's 11:20 as I sit here to write about my latest adventure... May I add that I'm glad to be alive tonight.
So as happens at least once a year my father and I hike through the wilderness of the woodlands of North-East Ohio in search of the sheephead mushroom. My father, never being an early bird, wakes me up bright and early on my day to sleep in to go hunting for the rare, and may I add, delicious fungus. I roll out of bed, brush my teeth, throw on my hoodie with a pair of old jeans and head for the kitchen. After my fifth cup of coffee I felt like I could take on the world, or at least a 5 year old anemic Ethiopian who would blow away if the desert winds picked up. Filled with anticipation of what the day would entail, my dad races towards his pickup truck and tells me to "hurry." I drag my legs towards and into the pickup.
Our drive takes us to western Mahoning County. We exit the S-10 and start our decent into the "wilderness" I find a branch long enough to brush away spiderwebs and vines that may get in my way... I guess I've learned the tricks from experience. 30 minutes and at least a mile into the majestic wood we have our first snag. As my dad and I retreat from the family of dear whom we so obviously had pissed off by entering their territory, I tell my dad "maybe we should find another place" (more "colorful" adjectives were used in the previous quote). We hike another mile or so away from the deer. Not one mushroom. My dad regretfully retreats from his hunting position and we head for the truck.
Our next stop takes us to to West Branch State Park in Portage County... And the private property of someone who lives next to it. "Dad the sign says Private property, are you sure this is legit?" "We'll be OK." No more then 30 minutes pass as my father and I rush our way out hearing someone else in the woods. We get back in the S-10 with still no mushrooms.
Our final stops take us back home to Niles. First comes Waddel Park. why there... well there are some trees, and well; it's close to home. magically we manage to find some mushrooms. All we had to do is travel 5 minutes and we could have saved a morning, and I could have slept in. We then travel to the park nearest to us: Stevens' Park named after Harry Stevens, inventor of the Hot Dog. We exit the truck and begin our final expedition in search of the yummy fungal treat. "Hey dad, is that dog foaming at the mouth?" before my father could reply we were retreating to our car throwing anything we could grab at the rabid pit bull. "Now fab how do you know he was rabid?" you may ask. Well after we called the cops and animal control came and took the dog away we found out. None of us were hurt thank god.
Moral: When it comes to fungus... Sleep in.