7 minute read

If You Can’t Eat ‘Em, Join ‘Em: A Walk in the Woods

Deep in the heart of the Puget Sound forest, you can hear the Logger chorus…

Lexus! You found a skull! Good job!

Advertisement

Screen-fatigued and aching for the tranquility of greenery that wasn’t meticulously planned by apartment complex landscapers, I escaped into the woods one fateful day to rendezvous with a dear friend from the Geology department near her woodland dwelling by the North Bay. The main goal of our romp was to kick-start my foray into foraging, but as you will see, dear reader, what we found was a haul of a different variety. Elements magazine is proud to debut, in vignettes:

If You Can’t Eat ‘Em, Join ‘Em: A Walk in the Woods

The Cast:

The author (LS): senior geology major; not well versed in mycology; is just happy to be outside

The woman of the woods (WW): senior geology major; ex-pro chef and certified mushroom forager; skilled chanterelle and dead-things spotter

Molly: geology dog; has the bear bell; perfect in every way

Act 1: The Woods

WW guides me along a gravel trail, our soundtrack the gentle jingle of Molly’s bear bell and her excited panting. We reach an incline and WW looks back.

WW: I don’t know what it is about this hill, but even though it’s not very steep it gets me every time. When I’m with my mom I always shout down to her that we’re almost to the pelvis!

Mystified, I follow up the hill. As we reach the peak WW directs me to the right, where, sure enough, a bleached portion of a pelvic bone lies nestled in the brush. Knowing WW’s propensity for found bones, I feel I must inquire about it’s presence.

LS: You just leave that here?

WW: It’s a nice marker!

---

WW: Oh, there’s the creepy respirator mask

She gestures to the trees. Hanging from a branch, the metallic fittings of the chunky mask are rusted, only adding to the eerie sensation now creeping across my skin.

WW: It’s so…

LS: Very steampunk.

WW: Yeah!

LS: Very 2020 apocalypse.

We laugh, in the way that two very tired and vaguely traumatized people do.

---

WW suddenly veers off the trail, charging into the bushes. Having accompanied her for field work before, I know this means one thing: edible forest treasures.

WW: Black huckleberries!

She places a handful of small dark globes into my outstretched palm, which I gladly devour.

WW: I love that you don’t even question when I hand you things and tell you to eat them.

LS: I figured you wouldn’t ask me to eat something you weren’t sure about.

WW: Good!

As I contemplate whether or not I’m too trusting of a person, Molly is fed berries.

ABOVE: Molly in the huckleberry bushes

---

We’re off trail now, traipsing through the underbrush and crossing streams. WW is explaining the locations where chanterelles are most likely to hide: they like mossy areas under Alders, but not anywhere too wet. You can tell them from other varieties of fungi by their trumpetlike structures, as opposed to the more common cap. As we enter a clearing, known to WW for its springtime wild lettuce varieties, I spot a flash of off-white near her feet: A skull. I assume she’s already passed over this piece due to its poor condition, but I feel the need to show that I have at least some sort of forest-spotting abilities.

LS (nonchalant): Hey, [redacted], isn’t that a skull?

WW looks down and shrieks with delight, immediately searching her bag for a Ziploc.

WW: Lexus! You found a skull! Good job!

Our main quest temporarily forgotten, WW bags her keep and begins searching the surrounding area for more bones. I follow, feeling weirdly accomplished.

WW: A doe. Cougar kill. They like to spread their prey out.

Lying rather picturesquely under a large fern are its ribs, still connected to a spine. WW considers them for a moment, then moves on.

ABOVE: A doe’s spine with vertebrae still intact

WW: It’s nice that the vertebrae are still connected, but I have enough of these.

LS: What’re the prime bones to find?

WW: I’d like another complete pelvis… and definitely skulls. Usually they’re not intact, since hunters always bring them home and cougars kill by directly biting the face off of whatever they catch. It’s pretty messed up, actually.

LS: I mean, I buy pre-cut chunks of meat wrapped in plastic. At least they see the actual animal.

---

It’s some time later, and we still haven’t found an edible mushroom or more good bones, though we have encountered a newt (alive and content to crawl over WW’s hand), a small green frog (alive and not interested in being held), and what, upon closer examination, appears to be a partially mummified amphibian stuck to the path (“Too wet, I only take them dry”-WW). We have waxed philosophically about the ethics of sport vs sustenance hunting, passed through the spot where WW discovered her first large kill (now bathed in a beautiful golden light, as if blessing us), and marveled at the power of a recent storm that had managed to entirely uproot several large trees. I’ve also been treated to sights including an old, vegetation-covered scale (doesn’t work) and a vintage refrigerator

(WW: It took me months to open it; I thought for sure there would be a dead body in there.

LS: Like, one that was dumped with the fridge?

WW: Or put in afterwards.

LS: I feel like you would smell something.

WW: I was thinking it would be a skeleton or mummy, not a fresh corpse!)

As our afternoon winds down, I am promised one final stop, known charmingly as ‘Death Valley’. We arrive at a naturally terraced hillside, which looks perfectly normal at first glance.

WW: Just wait, once you see one you’ll see them everywhere!

It takes her little time to encounter a pile of ribs in the brush. The hunt is on.

LS: Hey! There’s some here! Looks like some vertebrae and maybe some leg bones?

ABOVE: A pile of bones found in ‘Death Valley’

WW: Hang on! I’m just poking through these here under these leaves!

We weave through the holly branches and scurry up and down the hillside, like field geologists investigating a particularly poor outcrop for a suitable sample. Satisfied with our day’s work and a backpack full of bones, we finally agree to pack it up, and a tired Molly seems grateful.

WW: Don’t worry, I still have a bunch of mushrooms from the last time I went out. I’m thinking risotto.

Hell yeah.

Epilogue: The Homestead

After shaking off a copious amount of pine needles and drinking ¾ of a Nalgene in about 30 seconds, I de-boot for the day in WW’s humble abode.

WW: I’ll take care of the mushrooms and the bacon, but I need you to stir the rice.

LS: That’s fine, but I’m going to be eating this scone you offered me earlier while I do it.

WW: Oh, of course.

Molly, slumped on the floor, barely keeps her eyes open as WW walks me through proper searing technique for a chanterelle (it’s gotta be hot and fast, lest you ruin a forest jewel by giving it a spongy texture).

WW: It’s a little overkill, but I like to do them in bacon fat.

She scoops the white substance from an unassuming mug on top of her stove.

LS (stirring rice with the right hand, hot scone in the left): I respect a little excess now and then.

After what feels like way less time than I thought it took to make risotto, we dine. The flavors are indescribably rich, yet also balanced with the earthy mushrooms and fresh herbs. There is truly no other food that could nourish me better after almost 5 miles of tramping through the woods.

ABOVE: Bacon and chanterelle risotto with fresh herbs

After our meal, WW invites me to document her collection of finds. Skulls, some bought and most collected, adorn shelves and walls, some stark and undecorated, others tastefully painted or arranged with twigs and moss. Boxes of to-be-cleaned specimens sit piled on a small sidetable next to some rocks. My coat hangs from a mummified deer foot.

ABOVE: Some of WW’s collection on display

LS: Listen, the bones are fine, but the coat rack unsettles me.

WW: Those are from the first deer I found! I cured them with salt myself.

LS: I scanned your entire home looking for a different place to hang my stuff.

WW: That’s the point, I like making people use it.

Curtain

WANNA SEE MORE OF LEXUS’ WOODLAND ADVENTURE? INTO BONE ART? MORBIDLY CURIOUS ABOUT THE COAT RACK? CHECK OUT MORE BONUS PHOTOS ON OUR WEB- SITE:

This article is from: