Morels and rascals

My father had a favourite expression when he came home from work late because he’d stayed downtown for a drink with his friends. “I fell among thieves,” he would tell my mother. I thought of his expression last summer on a morel mushroom picking expedition, when I fell among rascals. The first rascal showed up …

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Morel Hunting

A year after the forest fire, anarchy blooms in the Little Salmon/Carmacks bush. Free-growing morel mushrooms attract transient seasonal workers from all over the world; we form camps with no one in charge. As I plan to pick mushrooms in the Yukon wilderness, this is what locals press me to be wary of — not …

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