Foray at Griffy Lake Park: Autumnal Equinox 2016

Aspen Bolete, perchance?

Spotting this magnificent beauty was the climax of an impromptu day hike with my dear friend, Shayne Laughter. The weather was perfect, we both had an unscheduled afternoon, and the stars were aligned.

We walked along the high trail, the north loop of the trail that starts at the far side of the dam. We got our feet wet crossing the spillway, but the day was warm and our shoes compatible with the conditions.

Griffy Lake Dam

We climbed the stairs to the left and entered the woods. It's a young forest. Where the land was once thick with old growth woods, several places have had as many as two clear cuts. Now the trees are almost all thin, and even the undergrowth is sparse, though we did see one mother tree and very distinct signs that the soil is healthy, rich with mycelium running.

From the moment we stepped into the shade, we encountered friends of the Fungi Kingdom. Look at all these beauties!

First of the foray. I've seen this one before
on the trail above Jackson Creek.

At the next bend in the trail,
we saw several of these.

Low-angle, underside view of the cap

One hillside was thick with this sponge type.
This group appear to have already sporulated.
They were stiff and dry to the touch.

This coral sample was springy to the touch,
in comparison to those above.

Dappled sunlight shines a spotlight on the magnificent bolete.

To learn more about why I write sci-fi eco-adventures, and to find out more about my work-in-progress and how writing Mission to Blue Grannus requires my research into fungi and myco-remediation, tap on KHBrower.com.

Getting Comfortable with Chaos

Author at Play
The sound of a distant flute player floats in the cool morning air and enters my story,
Mission to Blue Grannus.

I'm currently drafting Mission to Blue Grannus. This morning I noodled around with chapter 16, "Inside the Blue Ice Caves," in which Gordy & Virginia enter and begin to explore a new micro-climate on the blue moon. I'm thinking about how the thick mass of ice shields the people from gamma radiation, and that's why the former workers from the abandoned water mine thrive in a colony inside the caves. I'm thinking about how the hot springs deep in the caves keep the water warm and the ambient air temp chilly, but survivable. And I'm thinking about how the caverns are filled with the cheerful sounds of gecko chirps. Creating the story world is one of my favorite parts of the novel writing process. 

In my first full draft, I'm approaching the midpoint of the story. This is a passage of great chaos for the character. In structure theory terms, it's when everything the main character thought was true is not and the true nature of the mission is revealed. 

Sometimes the author's experience mirrors the character's experience, and that's what's happening to me. So, I'm doing my best to get comfortable with the chaos of not knowing exactly what happens next. This is partly because I'm tuning into the main character Gordy's voice every day and he's wondering what's happening next. It's also because I keep changing elements of my outline. 

Some changes are simple and will streamline and strengthen the story--like going back to ch. 15 and eliminating the old woman in rags on top of the old hydro-power dam and replacing her with the hermit guide I had planed to introduce in 16. Moving up his first appearance gives us more time to get to know the pivotal guide character before the big reveal at the midpoint. (more about that big pivot when I get there)

Anther change that I'm contemplating is not so simple. It's threaded throughout the story. I've been thinking all along that the primary reason Gordy needs to go on his mission to find the mushroom man deep in the ice caves is to retrieve fungi that will serve for radiation poisoning remediation. However, last Friday I spoke with mycologist Dr. Michael Tansey as part of my research efforts. The topic of our conversation was the possible role of fungi for space travelers:

• radiation poisoning remediation - to absorb gamma radiation ever present in outer space
• food - the most efficient way to transport would be in nutritionally dense powder form
• medicinal - anti-viral and immunological boosts- though not all scientists agree on the medicinal value of various mushrooms, there is a long history of traditional use 
• terraforming - Did you know that in the early epochs of life on planet Earth the fungi Kingdom spread on the land long before vascular plants? Or that 80-95% of vascular plants thrive in symbiotic relationships with mycelium networks in the soil? Basically, you have to have fungi to have soil. You have to have soil to have plants, and plant life is one of those things we expect on a terraformed planet. 

After conversation, it was clear that the most essential of the possible uses of fungi for humans in space is terraforming.  So I'm rethinking the motive behind the mission and how that might affect the story in other ways. I'm wondering if the mushroom man changes the nature of the mission with his expertise, as in Gordy's mission is to trade for myco-remediation and medicinals, and the mushroom man recommends various patches of mycorrhizal fungi for terraforming.

If that's confusing for you, imagine how much my writer's brain is exploding with possibilities. I'm thrilled by, afraid of, and in my best moments, comfortable with the chaos of my creative process.

To learn more about why I write sci-fi eco-adventures, and to find out more about my work-in-progress and how writing Mission to Blue Grannus requires my research into fungi and myco-remediation, tap on KHBrower.com.

Turkey Tail Report: Trametes versicolor Makes a Home in My Back Yard

I first saw my turkey tail patch growing in the early summer following a lot of spring rain on a stump we use for chopping firewood. I wasn't sure, as I'm a novice mycologist, but it had the markers: the ringed color patterns and the nested groupings of the caps. Also, the top side of the caps were fuzzy to the touch. I checked my trusty reference guide and it said to look for whitish spores. But I couldn't see any spores. Perhaps those emerging caps were too young to produce spores. (note to self: Ask an experienced mycologist when the caps typically start producing spores. My guess is there are a number of factors, like air temperature and humidity, in addition to the maturity of the mushrooming body.)

Turkey Tail emerging, July 11, 2016

I didn't think my turkey tail -- and yes, I call it MY turkey tail, for I have abounding, familial affection for my back patio patch -- would thrive in its volunteer location here in Bloomington, Indiana. During midsummer this spot was destined to get full sun for several hours a day, and the stump is too heavy to move without a good reason.

But, before I asked my 6'4" son to roll it back under the shade of the deck so the mushrooms wouldn't struggle in the heat, it rained. It rained a lot here--all summer l-o-n-g. While the western states fried, the midwest flooded and my turkey tail thrived. Here's my mushroom stump a month later.

New growth after the storm, August 14th 

The other side of the stump with another, shorter-lived species, August 18

This past weekend I photographed my turkey tail again, after a couple of weeks of "normal" late summer weather, in other words, HOT. The patch is clearly thriving despite the heat. I love the green rings and wonder why one section of caps has developed a new color scheme. When I shared my pictures with my Mycelium Running seminar tribe, one cautioned my identification, saying she had encountered a turkey tail look-alike.

Is MY turkey tail really Trametes versicolor, or an imposter? September 10, 2016

Under the cap you can see the whitish pore openings where the spores come out -- shot with a macro lens.

So I asked a local mycology prof, Dr. Michael R. Tansey of Indiana University, to verify or set me straight. From the two photos pictured above, this is what he said:

"This is Turkey-tail.  It is our most common mushroom.  It is very common.  I have been out walking today, and it is abundant.  FYI:  Most experienced mushroom people agree that what we call the Turkey-tail is, at the level of analysis of the DNA, many different species.  Indeed, I have seen unpublished DNA data from our local specimens, and they cannot be one "real" species.  I remember one of the most experienced wood-rot fungi experts, years ago, telling me that it must be a dozen species."  

Ta Da! I'm thrilled I correctly identified fungi--even if not DNA-specific in my ID--in the wilds of my back yard. And now that the sun has dropped lower and the stump is in the shade for more of the day, I doubt anything will disturb my turkey tail, until we have really cold weather. Remember, turkey tail is everywhere. See if you can find some in your neighborhood.

To learn more about why I write sci-fi eco-adventures, and to find out more about my work-in-progress and how writing Mission to Blue Grannus requires my research into fungi and myco-remediation, tap on KHBrower.com.

P.S. If anyone has thoughts or recipes about making a medicinal extract, please send them my way. This literary scientist is ready to try most anything.

Oyster Mushroom Report 4 of 4:Two More Clusters

Last week I left you with a real cliff hanger: after I harvested one cluster from my second flush, I saw emergent growth in a handful of clusters around the edge of the bucket.

Day 9 - primordia emerge from clusters that did not thrive in the first flush

Could I keep them happy enough to thrive, or would they shrivel and die in the summer heat or air conditioned air, or suffer oxygen deprivation from life under a humidity tent? There are several variables to consider when growing mushrooms outside a perfectly controlled, lab environment.

Day 10 - No guarantees, but hopeful growth.

Some days I carried the bucket back and forth, into my living room during the heat of the day and out to the screened-in deck for moist night air.

Day 11 - Cautious optimism is in order. The new growth has outpaced the fruit that did not thrive in the first flush.

Two of the five clusters in this third flush continued to thrive. Three did not.

Day 12 - Graceful formations in two clusters.

In the second flush I think I harvested a day too soon, before the outer edges arch upward.  (I'd been frustrated by the coral formation of the first flush and was impatient.) This time, I waited patiently.

Day 13 - The edges never arched upward -- apparently drooping in the heat.

This time I may have harvested a day later than prime, as the outer edges thinned and lost their hearty texture. Regardless, the results were pretty spectacular. Here they are ready to saute along with onions, potatoes and peppers. My son and husband approved of our Labor Day weekend supper.

The dark coffee grounds on the base of the clusters on the far left and top right, help show the growth pattern of a cluster of oyster mushrooms. 

I'll let you know if there's any more action in the bucket. Right now it's at rest, and I'm letting the bucket dry out. 

Meanwhile, I need to get back to a scene in Mission to Blue Grannus. Gordy and Virginia are preparing for their trek to the blue ice caves, where they hope to find the mushroom man.

To learn more about why I write sci-fi eco-adventures, and to find out more about my work-in-progress and how writing Mission to Blue Grannus requires my research into fungi and myco-remediation, tap on KHBrower.com.