Vernon was born in the Pacific Northwest and still lives in the shadow of Mt. Hood, near the small town where he grew up. Vernon has spent decades wandering the hills, hunting mushrooms, camping and riding motorcycles into the remotest nooks and crannies to be found in the region.
We are doing a socially distanced campout over Halloween. Mike and I went to the site yesterday. Mike threw a tarp over the wickiup and kindled a fire while I set up a third set of poles to ease pitching camp next weekend.
It will be a snug and picturesque camp once we get the canvas up.
Three sets of poles waiting for our arrival next weekend.
Once the poles were in place, we took a short wander behind the camp, hoping to find some mushrooms for lunch.
We were not disappointed. It took considerable willpower not to collect more than we needed ( I can stop anytime I want to).
When we got back to camp we made rum toddies, using a flip dog, heated cherry red over the coals, to scald our drinks.
Selecting the most perfect mushrooms from our collection, we wrapped them with bacon and carefully skewered them on roasting sticks whittled from vine maple.
…yielded Mike a delicious treat; the mushroom absorbed the hot fat from the bacon as it cooked, infusing the chanterelles with bacony goodness.
Between the overcast and the late autumn solar cycle, it grew dim early. We doused the fire and loaded our gear. and harnessed Walter Dawg to the cart. He hauled our gear back to the truck , concluding another pleasant day spent in the woods.