The red mushrooms on the side of the trail stopped me. I had scouted Winberry Tie Trail two and a half miles to the divide, a height of land between Winberry Creek and the Middle Fork of the Willamette River watersheds. I had hiked uphill, through maples and mountain ash, to where the trail joined the the mile long divide trail connecting an abandoned road on the west to FS 5821 to the east. I scouted that, too. Scouting is looking for logs or brush that need removal, checking the tread for erosion or other problems, in order to plan a future outing to address them. This trail was well known to me; I had just passed a rock wall we built near a rootball hole we filled in. It had rained that day and was muddy. I then encountered the mushrooms.
We recovered the trail three years ago, barely able to find it, after fifteen visits to clear logs (“logging out”), remove encroaching brush, repair tread, fix turnpikes, which elevate a trail above a wet area. We also logged out a dirt road which the trail crosses twice. I still remember being on my knees digging out every inch of a side wall of the trail for a hundred yards in a cold rain-snow mix, removing salal and Oregon grape. I know this place. One visit this year with two power brushers and a power saw crew would have the trail in good shape for the next season, assuming, of course, no trees fall on it in the meantime. The tread was excellent, although there was new growth of salal. Nature is trying to restore the trail, too, to look like its surroundings.
I couldn’t identify the mushrooms, but I saw similar ones at the Pisgah Arboretum’s recent annual mushroom festival. I took a picture and continued to the Forest Service road, hiking back to the vehicle, noting no logs needing removal.
I’m no mycologist. In another life, I could find myself interested in mushrooms to learn their names, like I did wildflowers. My first identification was a Western Cauliflower mushroom (Sparassis crispa) on Crescent Mountain nine years ago on a wet, cold hike. They are distinctive.
I wrote to a Steve, a crew member, asking whether these were Giant Lobster mushrooms (Hypomyces lactifluorum). He assiduously collects mushrooms on autumn trail work outings, putting them in a pack cover to carry home for dinner.
His answer was brief: where exactly are they? That was easy, I replied, since we had both used power brushers in this area. I told him he could drive to the upper trailhead and from there it was about a quarter mile up the trail, on the right. I could have said the west side, but that’s nitpicking. Keep it simple.
The Arboretum show was excellent. I commented to one of the volunteers about the Western Cauliflower mushroom they displayed, and he lit up. You could see it in his eyes. It’s the look one has when asked questions about their field. I’ve seen that look in climbers, birders, pilots, athletes, botanists, and know if I am asked about math or eclipses, I light up like they do, becoming a different person.
The man said, “I made a dressing for a stroganoff by replacing the bread with the mushroom,” using his hand like a ladle. He whispered conspiratorially, “It was the BEST dressing I have ever tasted.”
See you on the trail. If you forage, know what you are doing.
Boreal B[l]og 
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