Edible mushrooms a victim of state’s drought
Signs of the worsening New England drought can be seen in browning lawns, wilting gardens and bonedry creek beds all around Connecticut, but for a small number of hobbyists in the state, the most striking indicator of the parched land is what they don’t see.
Mushroom foragers — whose ranks have, well, mushroomed during the pandemic — report that the woods of Connecticut are barren of their favorite fungal foods as a result of the lack of rainfall that has kept many species dormant.
Once-common finds such as black trumpets, hen-of-the-woods and hedgehogs are now prized even in small quantities, while more sought-after species such as morels or the fabled chanterelles have become virtually non-existent, according to longtime connoisseurs.
“This has just been a really terrible year for people who forage mushrooms,” said Bill Yule, a naturalist and mushroom enthusiast from Haddam. “It’s probably the worst year for mushrooms in the 35 years I’ve been foraging.”
The lack of mushrooms is particularly acute, Yule said, in the eastern half of the state and the Connecticut River Valley, where the U.S. Drought Monitor reports that conditions have reached “extreme” levels. There, the lack of rain has already stressed farmers, who’ve had to rely on irrigation to keep their fields and orchards alive.
Meanwhile, experts predict that the drought is also likely to diminish once of the region’s top seasonal attractions by hastening the arrival of fall foliage.
Karen Monger, the membership coordinator for the Connecticut Valley Mycological Society, explained that many of the mushrooms growing on the forest floor are actually part of a complex web of fungal life underground, in which each species partners with its own type of “host” tree, providing vital nutrients and moisture to the tree’s root system in exchange for a sugars and a place to grow.
These mushrooms — known as mycorrhizal fungi — are simply the spore-filled shoots that sprout above ground when it’s time for the fungi to reproduce, typically in June and July for many common New England species, Monger said. A few types of edible mushrooms native to Connecticut, such as oyster mushrooms, are
The timing of the drought follows one of the busiest years for mushroom foraging in recent memory, experts said, as interest in outdoor activities drew crowds to state parks and forests at the same time that above-average rainfall led to an abundance of mushrooms.
saprobic, meaning that they rely on decomposing logs and branches for nutrients and are less susceptible to drought, Monger said.
When the ground dries up and their host trees become stressed for water, Monger said the mycorrhizal fungi simply go dormant to save energy, leading to the lack of mushrooms.
For mushroom foragers, that’s good news in the fact that there’s not believed to be much long-term harm to fungi as a result of a season or two of drought. But it also means that a few sudden showers are not going to turn their luck around and produce an abundant crop of chanterelles or other edibles.
“Everything is just so in like hibernation at this point, one rainstorm’s not going to kick anything into gear,” Monger said. “You need consistent rain like once, twice a week the whole summer, every month.”
The timing of the drought follows one of the busiest years for mushroom foraging in recent memory, experts said, as interest in outdoor activities drew crowds to state parks and forests at the same time that above-average
rainfall led to an abundance of mushrooms.
“All of a sudden, this relatively obscure hobby of mushroom foraging has exploded,” said Yule, who teaches classes about fungi and other topics at the Connecticut River Museum. “They’re in a panic now and they don’t understand that during a drought mushrooms will not be fruiting.”
Monger said that membership in her central Connecticut group grew to more than 350 people in 2021. Now, she said, only about 10 “diehards” show up to their weekly outings in search of what few mushrooms there are.
One possible benefit from the drought and lack of mushrooms, Monger said, is that few people — and their pets — are being sickened after mistakenly eating poisonous mushrooms. Such poisonings typically ebb when there are few mushrooms and swell when the fungi proliferate, she said, pointing to a series of warnings about mushroom poisonings this year in Australia, where some areas have seen record rainfall.
“If there just aren’t mushrooms out there, the dogs aren’t eating them as much, people aren’t picking them as much because there’s just none out there,” Monger said.
A spokeswoman for the University of Connecticut Health Center, which manages the state’s Poison Control Hotline, said no statistics were available on the number of calls related to mushroom poisonings this year.
Meanwhile, enthusiasts like Yule say they’re driving further afield to less drought-impacted states such as the Carolinas and West Virginia in search of prized mushrooms — while hoping for better luck next year.
The last drought to affect Connecticut, they noted, was in 2020. The next year, rains brought about a mushroom bonanza.