The place was about as close to being a jungle as you’ll find in this part of the world.
Saplings and poison ivy plants tall enough to be buggy whips grew thick on the forest floor. Skin and clothing-grabbing briars rolled through the area like World War I barbed-wire.
We sweated and I bled, and were often crawling on hands and knees to get from place to place or to pick some of the most coveted finds in the Kansas outdoors.
And pick them, we did.
Conservatively I’d say my host, Lonny, and I picked at least 200 morel mushrooms from a location I’m sworn to never divulge…like I’d do that to someone who takes me to their sweetest of spots, anyway.
Word around the state is that the morels are up early this year, and especially plentiful because of ideal amounts of warm temps and soaking rains. Lonny said it’s been one of the best years he’s had in several. In fact, he and his wife and already picked the jungle clean on Sunday morning.
I headed to The Eagle with an eight-inch tear in my shirt, scratches on several parts of my body and more than a gallon of morels. Every bite will be cherished.
After I left, Lonny headed to a favored fishing hole with his father and caught about 60 nice crappie.
It’s a very good time to be out and enjoying the Kansas outdoors.