The Morel Mushroom Ring (Precious) gets passed on to new King

The beginning of the Morel season has begun.  My old buddy Trevor Storlie and I have been pounding away over the years, competing in ever sense of the way, on who can collect the most morel mushrooms in a single weekend. If you read this blog last year, you know that the winner wears the ring, Precious.   So the Storlies decided that they had to have a Morel Mobile Recon Station in order to compete this year.

The Storlie Mushroom Mobile Unit

The Nanna’s however roll in something a little bit larger, only because they take the Morel quest a little seriously and the new King needs a palace with a comfortable throne if you know what I mean.

The Rolling Nanna Express

Trevor came to Morel camp sort of like a heavy weight fighter who won his first fight, then underestimated his next opponent so he decided not to train.  Instead he decided to eat, and drink like a true egotistic champion.  He was unfocused and lacked discipline.  I came into camp mentally prepared and focused on my efforts to put thy ring on thy finger. While I was up at first light combing the mountain side, Trevor remained in bed.

While Trevor stayed at camp, I was busy producing.

When I returned I noticed that Trevor was speaking to some mountain bikers and having a ridiculous conversation on what seat was more comfortable in the rain,  if the rear brake theory was really true, and if they ever saw cougers riding their bikes.

"So when you shift these bikes in gear from 7th to 8th...can you feel the acceleration?"

I walked by as I refocused my attention on the other side of camp where morning light was concentrated.  His oldest son Askel must have been bored with the conversation and decided to join me on my quest up the other side of the mountain.

He could be back at the truck BS'n but no, he would rather beat the bush with me instead.

I remembered vaguely how his father had once burned the fire in his belly, and now it was apparent that  his son would carry the torch from this moment on.

Askel even had his high mountain Norway gear on

It did not take long before we found what we began our quest for.  The infamous black morel.

"Is that a morel mushroom young Askel?" I asked.

We celebrated in the woods, finding Askel’s first morel at 3 years of age , and his father by birth right was nowhere to be found.

The two of us returned back down to the mountain to where the woman and children were.  Guess what we found?

Trevor had moved about 100 yards to bull#$@% with women and children.

Trevor was still talking a big game, but had produced nothing but hot air that morning.

Here is what the Ex-King of Morel's looks like up close.

The remainder of the weekend I basically put on a “Morel Clinic” for my friend.  He never recovered in count, and I kept racking the morel count numbers with my excellent vision, sweat, and the purest of due diligences.

The next generation to follow my legacy

On the second day, he knew he had been bested and the ring was loose on his finger.

Another DeeLISH morel and my lucky bucket I stole from Erin last year.

The season is just upon us and really has not kicked into high gear.  I would say about a week or so out, but I think it is going to be another fantastic season.  On the final day, I was finally knighted and we all celebrated fresh morels from the hard work of Axel and I at the fire side, while his father sat alone eating a hotdog.

As I stood on one knee, I was knighted "Morel King and holder of Precious".

It was a slow start to the season, with about forty mushrooms found.  But as I said it is only getting started.

Fresh black morels are always the first to show

Fresh black morels are always the first to show.

Well folks that is the story of the weekend.  I am sure there will be more to come, I hope Trevor will regroup to his training camp and come back for another beat down in the woods.

5 Comments on “The Morel Mushroom Ring (Precious) gets passed on to new King

  1. You were right. I did come to camp out of shape, unfocused, and perhaps a little drunk. I underestimated you once again. You have stolen the bucket, and now you are trying to steal the ring. If there is not a return this season to that God forsaken campground, then yes, I will have to give you my first born…. but until then she’s still mine by birth right not by hard work. And you should also know it’s Aksel, not Axel…the way they spell it in my mother country, Norway. Plus your daughter is putting the moves on our innocent Olin. Not only that, she looks great in the blue berry sleeping bag hand me downs!

  2. I made a change to my blog regarding his name. I apologize that I am unwise to the grammar of the Norwegians. The ring fits fine on my finger. Say it five times.

  3. Hah, what a great read. Especially appreciated the prods at your buddy, Trevor. Hilarious that each time you returned to camp, there he was chatting it up with folks while you snuck away and grabbed a few more. It’s been a pretty dry season after the warm spell, with luck this new rain will get things going. By the way, I never saw the ring, I’m guessing it’s more of a metaphor than an actual ring…

  4. I am glad you enjoyed the story. I did one last year on my blog that had Trevor as a character. You are correct there really is no ring as of yet, we try to find a morel ring but have had no luck. If you ever see one, please let me know. I agree with you it has been slow this year but I think with this rain they may begin to pop. I am going over to sisters area this weekend. Never really hunted that area but I know they are there….somewhere.

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