MUSHROOM PICKERS

There is an amazing subculture that many people never hear about, never know about and only learn exists when they stray from the popular highways and byways during times when most people are not on vacation. While most people choose Summer as the time to visit SW Oregon, that is precisely the time when the Mushroom Pickers are somewhere else entirely. In Spring, hard-working mushrooms pickers often move to the East and become berry pickers until the Fall rains begin again. Some go to the areas in the mountains where the Spring morels and chanterelles are most likely to be found. Certainly, morels and chanterelles can be found in the Illinois Valley in various locations. But the pickers will more typically go to places where the yield is consistently higher. For a glimpse into the world of Mushroom Pickers, visit: http://www.matsiman.com ...and for a glimpse at the fascinating world of fungi, there is no better place to begin than with a visit to the master, Paul Stamets.

The big draw in the Illinois Valley is matsutake. And it is difficult to know before mid-autumn whether the crop will be good and the quality of the individual mushrooms will bring a good price. In the years when the crop is abundant and the price remain good, the campground at Country Hills becomes, not a deserted place, but a place alive with Mushroom Pickers who most often live hard lives under primitive circumstances. Theirs is a nomadic culture: you move where the Mushrooms are, you stay where the promising weather exists. These are people whose livelihood is often tied to living through storms and going out in the aftermath to harvest. There are many families who make their living traveling the "circuit" year after year. Although the common belief is that the majority of Mushroom Pickers are Asian, this is simply not true. No one "group" dominates. There is a blend of races and cultures, but the one observable truth is that there is a strong feeling of Tribal Culture, of a large extended family. And once in awhile there will be the oddity, the loner, who knows more about the mountains and where to find the best patches than anyone else. These individuals, while known and trusted within the extended family of pickers, often choose spots where no one else goes, know how to harvest many varieties of mushroom that will bring a decent price and stay on in a place long after others have decided there is nothing of value to be found.

Such people are mysterious and one meets them usually only by accident. Most of us will never dare to tread the turf where these solitary pickers go day after day; the steep cliffs and impossible brush, the weather that keeps most people indoors. These people find you, perhaps in a bookstore or coffee shop or at some small community gathering. Maybe you are livelier or happier or appear more receptive than the people around you. Whatever it is, when a solitary Mushroom Picker seeks you out and speaks to you, unusual though they may seem, listen to the stories they have to tell. If, like most of us, you live with electricity and take having a roof over your head for granted, your eyes will be opened and you will be amazed at how skillful these people are at staying alive with nearly nothing at their disposal but their wits, knowledge of how to identify fungi "in the field" and a few tools. With this, a "can do" attitude and the desire, the will to live life on their own terms, these people earn a living year 'round. You can learn a lot about survival under adverse conditions from a mushroom picker!

The first Fall I spent at Country Hills was a total revelation. I watched as dozens of people formed a community out on the campground. What was this about? Who were these people? Judy explained. When the heavy rains came, the tarps went up. While most everyone went into the hills and mountains to pick, someone always stayed behind to keep the fires going. The fires were what kept people alive and well. Coming back to the campground after hours in the damp, cold woods up in the mountains, hypothermia is a significant hazard. Without those fires, some people would simply die. When the pickers return, communal feasts are prepared and everyone eats. Some nights I heard drumming, singing and the sounds of celebration; other nights I heard a more somber singing and chanting. At the time I felt such culture shock, so much the outsider, I lacked the courage to walk into one of these communities and introduce myself. Today, I would do so in a second.

What is so impressive about the Mushroom Pickers is the kindness I have seen them show to stray animals. They shared food and affection. Many feral cats were "socialized" through the kindness with which they were treated in these "mobile communities". I observed this, was deeply touched by what I saw and thank these people, who often have so little and, when noticed at all, are regarded as "social misfits", for their generosity and compassion. Because of you, as well and Don and Judy, the cat in this photograph came to trust human beings.