A Fungal Autumn Hike Challenge
By David J. Hawke
The thing about an autumn hike is… everything’s awesome! No squadrons of biting insects, reasonable heat and humidity, and oh so much to look at! Every species of tree has its own palette to show off, from the burgundy of ash to the crimson hues of maple to the scarlets of sumac.
The other colourful autumn delight to find is the mushrooms; they are everywhere! Big and small, obvious and hidden, an iconic structure, or a just plain weird wibbly-wobbly blob. And they come in more colours than that handful of paint chips you have for the living room.
Of course, the ubiquitous inquiry “Can I eat it?” comes on strong with every group outing. It’s funny how we don’t ask that when bird watching: “There’s an indigo bunting! I wonder if I can eat it?”. However, edibility is but a passing interest when it comes to studying fungi. To get to know a mushroom is to understand and appreciate its role in the ecological flow of everything in the woodlot.
Fungal ‘roots’ are called mycelia, a much branching and thread-like structure that infiltrates the soil in all directions. These far-reaching mycelia are the wonder machine of mycology (the scientific study of all things ‘fungi’). Each segment breaks down soil or organic particles to release and transfer nutrients and elements.
One of the cool aspects of mycelial growth happens when it feels the need to reproduce. A few of the outer tips of this underground web will turn upwards and break through the surface of whatever medium it is growing in… wood, soil, deer poop, whatever.
The resulting structure is the thing we commonly call a mushroom. And as the ever-increasing web of mycelia is often circular, the cluster of fruiting tips often shows up as a fairy ring!
Suppose you pick a mushroom (or accidentally step on one). In that case, the impact on that fungus is comparable to picking an apple from an apple tree: no real harm done, other than you may have ruined that particular structure’s ability to reproduce.
Rather than worrying about edibility, focus your fungal interaction toward the structure of the beast… does the underside of the cap have gills or pores? Are the spore structures hanging down like teeth? Or is the whole thing upright and branched like undersea coral?
There are a growing number of great field guides to help you slap a name on the mushroom in hand but be careful of grabbing the first name to come along. Unlike birds or wildflowers, fungi need very careful examination to confirm one species from another. It can be done if you dedicate several years of diligent study to the subject.
And so, I will challenge you with a quest for your next fall hike: make a bingo board of mushroom types and see if you can find them all. The eight main groups are gills (shaped like fish gills), pores (looks like a sponge), toothed (looks like a mass of icicles), coral, jelly, shelf (hard texture, usually on the side of a tree), puffball, and sac.
Sac? Okay, you need a pretty good microscope to determine if the spores are held in a sac that eventually dries, tightens, and bursts. You probably know this group better as morels, cups, or dead man’s fingers!
Enjoy the fall colours, the fresh air, and the sound of migrating geese, but remember to look down and around… lots going on out there!
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