<p>Jon Rombach</p>

Wild morel mushroom season has been in full swing here in Wallowa County and I just love this time of year for how morel hunting brings out the best in people. I hear the best lies, deceit and misdirection from usually honest folks guarding the coordinates of their favored mushroom sites with security measures the CIA would appreciate.

Most mushroom reports have an informational ebb and flow similar to a flood tide. The surge of positive info comes rushing in about a triumphant haul of five, 10, 15 pounds of morels. The various weights apply to the same batch of mushrooms, as morels add weight after being picked the same way fish have a way of getting bigger the longer theyre out of the water. Im not clear on how mushrooms or fish weigh more each time the person talks about them, but assume it has something to do with science.

I love observing the stage of a mushroom report where the picker is proud of their haul and starts to share details. A few details. But you can see them check themselves and start to get vague, so as not to give away secrets. The tide of information peaks at this point. We know they found lots of mushrooms and they are good at finding mushrooms. Usually they cant help but leak a specific or two. Elevation. What side of the compass the slope was facing. The species of trees overhead. Adjacent foliage. Time elapsed since the last thunderstorm. Phase of the moon.

And here the information tide falters and begins to recede. Their excitement in the telling begins to wane as they realize somebody might find their mushroom grounds based on the knowledge that it includes a meadow with pine trees somewhere around 5,000 feet. Then someone asks the fatal question. Where were you?

The tide of factual information rushes out at this point leaving the bubbles and foam of getting lied to. Ive heard detailed directions to numerous places that dont exist. You turn left, maybe its right, onto that one road out north-ish-y, maybe west, they cant remember, then follow that until… then they have pressing business to tend to and walk away. Soon enough you overhear them telling someone else about the 20 pounds of morels they just picked and the cycle begins anew.

When pressed for details on where to find mushrooms, some pickers exhibit body language associated with withdrawing from the situation, stepping back or shrinking away, sometimes putting their hands up to ward off interrogation. Sometimes they hunch their shoulders in a defensive position. Other mushroom pickers become aggressive when asked to reveal their sites, using strong language to punctuate the message that nobody will ever learn their secret location. Never, ever. They may challenge or threaten you and its best to back away slowly from these types and avoid direct eye contact. Provoking an angry mushroom picker does not end well and can result in abuse. They may attempt to change the subject by explaining once again how good the stroganoff was they made with their morels. It was so good. Personally, I would rather endure the physical beating or verbal assault than hear about that stroganoff one more time.

I dont find many morels. Its fun looking for them and they are delicious but I save my searching energy for firewood, steelhead, elk and deer. Ive been accused of talking too much about where to find perfect tamarack, where to catch prize steelhead and where to hunt deer and elk. Ive been told those topics are soooo boring. The interesting part for me is that the same people bored to tears with my quests are mostly mushroom hunters. The same people that expect me to get excited about their quests for fungus.

So Im toying with the idea of organizing a Wallowa County venison-elk-steelhead-sautéed-morel-stroganoff potluck. Maybe we can all find common ground lying about where the ingredients came from.

Jon Rombach is a local columnist for the Chieftain. He likes his morels with garlic and butter out of an old iron skillet.