Morel Mushroom Hunting Secrets

By Tradd Cotter
Updated on March 10, 2023
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by Olga K. Cotter
A patch of morels will easily blend in with surrounding dried leaves. Walk slowly, and don’t get discouraged if you don’t find any right away. Even the trained eyes of an expert hunter can take awhile to spot the first morel of the season, or even day.

Discover morel mushroom hunting secrets to help you find the elusive morel mushroom — or grow your own morel mushrooms!

My alarm clock pulls me out of a dream — a vision of honeycombed patterns and boots sloshing through wet hunting grounds, my basket so full I have to weave branches into the sides to make walls to keep them all from falling over the edges. It’s 4 a.m. I’m already tired from hunting morels all night long in my sleep, but my eyes are tuned and I quickly realize it’s time to do the real thing. I am suddenly more alert than usual, realizing the excitement is just a couple hours drive away to make that dream come true.

I start the coffee, and wake up my wife, Olga. I whisper to her, “It’s time!” while our daughter Heidi sleeps in. We carefully assemble in the kitchen for coffee and tea and continue to wake up and discuss our plans. The previous night we had gathered the items that we would need for the trip and they were already loaded into the back of my car: baskets, paper bags, knives, boots, a cooler, maps, snacks, bottled water, and walking sticks. The areas we go to typically are off the beaten path, so taking rations of food and drinks is a must since we typically hunt a few different spots. Olga is the master chef who makes amazing sandwiches, and she quickly constructs six, two for each of us, and I put them into the cooler with some ice packs. We double feed the chickens and animals with expectations of coming back late — we hope.

The weather outside is chilly at 5 a.m., but it is expected to rise into the mid-50s Fahrenheit. We bundle up the sleeping Heidi like a burrito in a fuzzy blanket and transplant her into the car in a nest of more blankets to keep her sleeping for the drive to the hunting grounds. She wakes momentarily, confused by the disturbance and new location, but she’s used to it and falls back to sleep. It’s still dark as we pull out of the driveway, and we make our way to our secret spots, occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror looking for followers in a scene from a Hollywood spy movie.

As we arrive at 6:30 a.m. at the first spot in a series of a well-planned and strategic routes, the twilight is beginning to reveal the road edges. As we slowly descend in elevation to the first spot, we can make out the trees and plants that line the gravel drive. “Look! Redbud blooms … open!” Olga exclaims. “It’s time, they should be here.”

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