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News & Stories / Field Reports November 2014 Habitat Walk A great group of people attended the Habitat Walk this last Saturday. These hearty mushroom enthusiasts were greeted with early rain, muddy conditions… Cass Fuentes • December 1, 2014 Soggy participants of the Habitat Walk Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts Habitat Walk Summary - 2013 Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article

Spooky Grisette (Amanita constricta). Photo by Adam Ryszka Spooky Grisette Adam Ryszka Even fungus likes to dress up. This Amanita species, possibly Amanita contricta ( grisette ), has patches of universal veil tissue resembling a skeletal hand. Thank you Adam for providing this great photo from up in Oregon. Camera Samsung SGH-T989 Focal L. 4mm Aperture f/2.7 Shutter Sp. 1/300s ISO 50 Flash Off Photo taken on October 16, 2016 Mushroom(s) ... Previous Photo Back to Gallery Next Photo

News & Stories / Stewardship 2011 Suds and Shrooms Picnic Rocked! The Suds and Shrooms Picnic on June 11 rocked! The day was warm and sunny—remember how that used to feel? Deb • September 1, 2011 Appetizer at Suds n Shrooms 2011. Photos by Shea and Deb Central Coast Zymergeeks brought the incredible craft brews for which they’re known, and we brought the food, with an emphasis on fungi. The grill was going all day. In fact, pork appeared in at least three forms, inspiring an upcoming event: Porcino, Porcini! on October 15th. Thanks to everyone for your delicious contributions and good cheer! Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article

News & Stories / Mycology & Art News New Illustrator in the FFSC Fold – Angela Mele You’ll find a number of beautifully rendered illustrations in the Duff. They’re the work of Angela Mele, evidence of her love for all things fungal. Get acquainted with her below. Melanie Leuca • May 1, 2010 Identifying Agrocybe praecox. Illustration by Angela Mele After graduating with a Bachelor of Fine Arts from Florida State University, I wasn’t sure what to do next. That’s when I found mushrooms — chanterelles, to be exact! In the summer they covered the hills in the woods near my house. As I flipped through pages of beautiful illustrations in my mom’s 1987 Peterson Field Guide to Mushrooms, I not only determined that I was sitting on a pile of gold, I also fell in love with fungi and realized I wanted to paint them for a living. Lichens of the Florida Panhandle. Illustration by Angela Mele With no fungus club in Tallahassee I had only banana spiders to contend with as I filled basket upon basket with beautiful orange mushrooms. Two years later, I’m finishing up a degree in Science Illustration at CSU Monterey Bay. In the program we learn how to create informative, accurate, and beautiful illustrations. My dream is to work with mycologists to create a field guide to mushrooms. Illustrations by me and my classmates can be seen in the exhibit Illustrating Nature at the Pacific Grove Museum of Natural History until June 5, 2010. Coccora : Three Stages of Growth. Illustration by Angela Mele Illustrating Nature at the Pacific Grove Museum of Natural History Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts Cam Cam by Taylor Lockwood Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article

Lentinus (Polyporus) arcularius. Photo by Cathy Welch Lentinus (Polyporus) arcularius Cathy Welch This photo comes to us from Kathy Welch who snapped this image while lying under the branch. She says it ( Lentinus (Polyporus) arcularius ) was growing near a monastery in Tibet... a magical place! Thank you, Kathy. Camera Nikon COOLPIX S6100 Focal L. 5mm Aperture f/3.7 Shutter Sp. 1/100s ISO 80 Flash Off Photo taken on July 27, 2012 Mushroom(s) ... Previous Photo Back to Gallery Next Photo

News & Stories / Writings Memories of Matsutake I grew up picking matsutake in the pacific northwest with my dad. We joined the first chapter of the Puget Sound Mycological Society and would go on field trips. It is one of my most precious memories and in the Northwest. The whole Japanese community buzzes with matsutake talk in the fall. Wendy Tokuda • March 3, 2016 Tricholoma murrillianum (magnivelare) (matsutake). Photo by Hugh Smith I was struck when I visited Mendocino for the first time because so much of the vegetation there was simliar to the Northwest and felt like it would be good for matsutake. In the Northwest the host plants are blue huckleberry, salal, and doug fir. In California, I'm having to learn about the strikingly different host plants for mushrooms I grew up picking. My mom wrote an essay about them, reprinted below. Memories of Matsutake (September, 1983) Indian summer brings some golden weather but the air has a sharp edge. There is frost on the grass some mornings and windshields have to be scraped. Now is when the Japanese community in Seattle perks up it ears for the first reports of the pine mushroom "matsutake". Thus begins the annual ritual of autumn. "Hear Yamamoto got some matsutake from someone. Must have come from Rainier area. It's only the middle of September.", George says when he comes home from visiting a neighbor. "Oh", I reply but I think to myself that now he won't be able to stay still. Is it going to be this coming weekend? No, we're retired so we can beat the crowd by going Thursday perhaps. "Let's take a run out there since the weather's so nice anyways, " he says. Anyone else?" I ask. "I'll call Bob and John, " he replies. Wednesday night I make some rice balls and teriyaki chicken, and George gets his hiking sticks, compass, and a cotton sack for carrying the mushrooms. Thursday morning, Bob and John come by at 7, old men but they are grinning like little boys that know something. Bob's driving, and we load our gear in his old Buick truck and climb into the back seat. "Too bad it didn't rain a little more last week. I think it's been too dry. We'll try Crystal Spring, they come out early there." "You going to take us to your secret spot this year?" George asks Bob. "No use taking secrets like that to the grave." "I'm taking them," says Bob. They start talking about a neighbor that had a stroke a few days ago. It used to be that so and so's wife ran off with someone or see that new barmaid at Bush, but lately it's talk and isn't so cheerful. Yet I don't feel as upset as I used to get about people getting sick or dying. I guess there isn't time to waste on feeling sorry for those who drop dead when I feel like I dodging bullets myself. George has snuggled into the corner of the seat and is dozing off. I feel it's not fair to sleep when Bob has to drive. "How come Mary didn't come?" "Someone has to work. She's watching the shop today." I forgot that not everyone has retired. "Too bad" I say but already I'm yawning and feeling warm. I try valiantly to go on. "How's your daughter getting along with the new baby?" Bob starts to describe the baby boy, how it looks Japanese one day and Jewish the next, but then despite all my efforts I fall asleep. The car jolts to a stop and both George and I wake up. We seem to have arrived someplace. I glance at my watch and discover it's been an hour and half ride. "Remember this place?" John says. I look out to see a huge mountainside of tree stumps. "Where are we?" I ask. "It's by Blueberry Creek." That beautiful forest and all those mushrooms reduced to an expanse of sawed off stumps. We are silent. Every year some former haunt disappears and a familiar place we're looking for is wiped out. Over and over, to become old is to find ourselves strangers in our own world. "We're not getting any matsutake here." says Bob and he starts up the car. We drive on some bumpy roads by so many beautiful creeks and forests and every place looks good, like it might be a spot we ought to stop and explore. Suddenly John says, "Hold it. I remember this place. Just a little ways in, I know a place." We tumble out of the car, stiff after nearly two hours of riding. I feel for my compass and whistle in my pocket. Bob has opened the car trunk and we grab our walking sticks and bags. I brought a little basket so the mushrooms won't get ground together with the dirt. The men start drinking tea and I have just a sip, holding back because thre are no bathrooms in the forest and I'm with three men. Bob bangs the trunk door down and John is already in the woods. I can see his orange knit cap bobbing up and down as he hurries toward some spot. George holds back to wait for me and he shouts to the other two, "let's meet back here in an hour and a half". We start trudging toward the forest, stepping over bushes and I think about Christmas. I must have stepped on some fir and it's fragrance of the holidays floating through the woods. The brush on the edge of the woods disappears and it's easy walking now. I try to keep up with George as he tramps ahead of me. Already he has forgotten me and his head is down looking for signs of matsutake, trying not to miss any suspicious white cracks in the ground. My vision is always half of his back as the idea of being lost in the woods terrifies me and it's the sight of the trees, the woods, the feeling of being embraced in the world of nature that I seek. Once again I feel at home under the quiet trees, apart from the crush of human entanglements. I press on the outside world drops away. There is only the occasional crack of twigs, the sudden scurrying of a chipmunk, the flash of a bird in flight. George and I are as we were when we first met. I follow in silence and we are suddenly in a clear space covered with bright green moss. Over the moss grows some little white mushrooms. Their caps are white, light, and small. Their thin stems are almost invisible. I feel a sensation of floating. These mushrooms seem to be suspended, motionless, and I understand why fairies are associated with these delicate ethereal mushrooms. I stand for a moment and stare at the lovely sight. I wish my children and parents were here with me now. Eventually the children will enjoy the same trip, some day, but alas, these joys are no longer for my parents. It was on a long ago October day when the autumn skies were gloriously blue and clear like today when I saw Dad for the last time. George had gone mushrooming the day before and I took two matsutake for him. His wrinkled brown face was all smiles, his eyes brightened and I could feel worlds of past memories unfoling in his mind. "George went to the Cascades yesterday," I said and then rushed outside to pursue some errand. As I started driving off, I saw him waving goodbye from the window. That turned out to be the last time I saw him alive. Mom called about 5 o'clock that day and said Dad hadn't returned. After I left them he had taken one of the two matsutake or perhaps the beautiful day must have pushed him on to visit other friends. He walked further and further, finally taking the bus to the Public Market where a friend had a flower stall. Was he bidding farewell to every one? He boarded a bus in the 5 o'clock downtown rush and suffered a heart attack. Do we pick a time to go? I think he did. Tricholoma magnivelare (matsutake) Suddenly as I stand mezmerized by the floating mushroom caps, I see something and I can't believe it. Near my feet there is a crack in the mossy floor and I see that something white is showing under the moss. I hurriedly lift the dirt and moss, and there is a matsutake. The fragrance is unmistakeable as I use the pick of my walking stick to dig it out. I lay it on the green moss and see that this stem is a good inch and a half in diameter and the white shaggy cap, not fully opened, hugs the stem. The first matsutake of the season. It's like seeing an old friend. No other picked or seen later in the season will be as wonderful. Suddenly, I feel alone and I call out for George. There is no answer. I look up and the gently swaying tops of the trees merge together layer after layer into the distance. It is like staring into deep waters. I fumble around for my whistle and realize my throat is dry. I blow frantically so that anyone for miles around can surely hear me but there is no answer. I put the mushroom in my basket and tell myself to stay calm. I take out my compass but realize I hadn't taken a reading on the way in. If only I hadn't stopped. Knowing George's relentless speed I should have kept up with him. I decide to stay put and keep blowing my whistle. Finally I hear a whistle responding but I can't tell which direction it's coming from. "George, George," I keep screaming, repeating, determined not to lose his response. Suddenly I can fathom the direction and I shout, "Don't move," and start trudging in that direction hanging on to my basket and stick. After an interminable mad scramble I catch sight of his red Scottish beret. "Were you lost?" he asks. He hadn't really missed me. "Got one, huh?. That's a beauty," he says. I want to explain to him the terror I had just experienced but he seems to be in a world of his own. Besides there is no time because he starts pushing ahead, always running this way and that to follow up on all the little clues that seem to beckon him from all over the forest floor. I have my one, and I now feel my only interest is not to get lost. It's the first time I got one before he did and I realize his eyesight isn't as sharp as it used to be. He used to have 20/20 vision but lately he's been thinking of getting glasses. Still his mushroom sense is sharp, he seems to smell them out, and my the time this trip is over he'll have far more than I do. He always does. Sure enough at that moment he's stooped down and he's yelling for me to hurry. Climbing over a few logs I reach him by the base of a tree and he's found three, no, it turns out to be five as he uproots the first few. "Only reason I saw it, the deer had eaten the cap off of one and it was sitting there completely exposed." He dusts off the brown needles and the bits of dirt. How different from the old days when he just threw it into the bag, dirt and all, rotten ones and all. Now he admires them, each one, takes time to clean it. Then he pats the dirt down over the disrupted ground and we start out again. "Its going to be a good year, " he says and I notice there are all sorts showing here and there. There are the shiny little orange cups in a line running over the logs. There are the purple ones and those that look like toasted rounds of bread. The brown velvet caps that remind me of animal backs. Once in a while I skirt around bear and deer droppings, reminding me that we humans are not alone. Sometimes I actually catch the scent of deer but I don't recall ever running into one. They must hear us lumbering through the woods from long distances away. I glance at my watch and tell George it's time to start back. "Just that little spot over that log," he says. Sometimes it's harder to get George out of the woods than to find the matsutake. "No, let's give ourselves at least twenty minutes to find our way back. You know how you hate it when others don't get back in time." So reluctantly he pulls out his compass and we start our trek back. But all the while we are trudging his eyes keep scouting all over the ground and indeed he does find a few. "Isn't it funny you walk over the same path and you always find some you missed." I agree but I don't find anymore. When we return, Bob and John are already waiting. The truck is open and they are looking for lunch and beer. I look for the tea and see their matsutake spread out in 2 separate wooden crates, carefully arranged on fresh fir boughs. There are seven in one and three in the other. George and I arrange ours in a box together. There are ten, my one and his nine, some only as big as a thumb. "George, I think it's mother must be crying for that one," I say, pointing to the little one. "Yeh, but look at this one," he says, picking one up that looks like it must weigh a quarter pound. "I found it next to the one eaten by deer." We all pause to admire it. The cap is shiny, as if sheer silk is drawn over it. Some sunlight must filter in, even into these dense woods to give a sheen to the slightly tan cap. The shaggy stem has bits of thick soft veil clinging to it. There are signs of rich black loam clinging to the upper part of the stem but the base is gray with dry dirt. The twisted stem gives the feeling it has struggled to rise out of the ground and triumphed. I sigh in wonder and George is smiling. Tricholoma murrillianum (magnivelare) (matsutake). Photo by Hugh Smith Everyone in the party has found matsutake, a rare and joyous event for a first trip of the season. Of course, we intend to take in a few more spots after a little rest. I think to myself, we all made it again. Together. How nice. I untie the white dishcloth wrapped around our lunch box and pass the rice balls to Bob, John and George. Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts Lost: The Companion's View Reality Check: Dispelling a Myth Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article

News & Stories / Field Reports The Great Alaska Foray 2010 Bill and Jerri White’s 2010 Great Alaska Foray was attended by many FFSC members. Hugh Smith provided this artistic travelogue of his trip. Hugh Smith • September 1, 2010 Beauties from the 2010 Alaska foray. Photo by Hugh Smith Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts 2009 Alaska Foray Travelogue Field Reports 2015 Alaska Foray Report Field Reports Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article

News & Stories / Fungus Fair – Well Done! Kudos to those who gave their time to volunteer for the Fungus Fair. At least 82 members put in time and effort to make yet another successful fair. Santa Cruz Fungus Fair Committee • February 1, 2008 Exhibit at the Fungus Fair. Photo by Hugh Smith Approximately 2000 people attended the fair. Over 250 species were logged. Thanks to Marje Young for her hard work as Fair Chair and Mushrooms 101 coodinator. Great job! Special thanks go out to the committee chairs who coordinated a lot of activity. Ken Sommers and company slogged through muck and duff to bring specimens for display, and Bill White and the setup crew got it all going. Of course, we all ate well, thanks to the food folks, coordinated by René Seltzer: Bob and Doreen Wynn, Bob Sellers, Jozseph Schultz, Todd Spanier, and Dan Brophy from Oregon. Marilyn Fenn placed the artwork, well, artfully and Vernetta McGuire and the culinary group set the stage for a wonderful Friday night reception. The ID table, under the able leadership of Phil Carpenter, kept it happening, with help from Marilyn Diamond. Dennis Nolan and Monise Sheehan did a great job coordinating Membership and Stores. The Kids’ Room was a great success, thanks to Cathy and Marty Newman. Richard Rammer led the cleanup effort and bagged a one hour record! Bob & Doreen fed the cleanup crew a fantastic dinner once again. Thanks to all of you—if you hadn’t turned out, this event wouldn’t come off. The Fair is a joint effort of the Fungus Fed and the Santa Cruz City Museum of Natural History, and we really do put the fungus in the fair. Apologies if your name was missed below; your efforts certainly made a difference! – The Fair Committee Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts Santa Cruz Fungus Fair Rocks Fungus Fair 2009 — Better Than Ever! Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article

News & Stories / Fair News 2026 Santa Cruz Fungus Fair: Our Mission in Action The Fungus Federation of Santa Cruz exists to expand the understanding and appreciation of mycology through education; and to assist the public, institutions, and partner organizations in advancing that goal--and keeping the FUN in fungi. The 2026 Santa Cruz Fungus Fair brought all of these groups together to make high-quality mycological education accessible to thousands of people, while producing real scientific output and supporting local arts, culture and economic development. Peter Mu • January 20, 2026 Visitors enjoying outdoor vendors at the 2026 Fair This year, the 52nd fair reached more people, more deeply, than ever before. More than 3,500 attendees joined us over the weekend. 12 educational talks drew an estimated 1,100 participants, while 300+ children and adults explored hands-on learning through mushroom crafts, dyeing, face painting, and creative play. 75 guests gathered for a special after-hours mushroom dinner and wine pairings. It was also an exceptional year for mycological research: 275 mushroom specimens were collected, sampled, and submitted for DNA sequencing during the Fair, contributing valuable data to the broader scientific community and advancing our shared knowledge of fungal biodiversity. Plus, over 6,800 mushroom observations were recorded in the 2026 Santa Cruz Fungus Fair MycoBlitz project on iNaturalist. The Fair reinvested directly into the local ecosystem—paying over $6,000 to speakers, mycologists and students; supporting partners such as the London Nelson Community Center and the Museum of Natural History; and providing 26 local artisans and small businesses with vending opportunities , while incurring no overhead cost to FFSC. None of this happens without volunteers. 169 volunteers filled 94.9% of all positions during the Fair, contributing over 500 hours of service collectively. Volunteers collected and identified specimens, set up and disassembled exhibits, staffed doors and tables, loaded and unloaded trucks, educated the community, and supported each other. Many of you committed your entire weekend and more to the event. The Fungus Fair is more than an annual event. It is a living expression of FFSC’s mission—education made accessible, science made communal, and appreciation for fungi shared widely. I’d like to take a moment to express my deeply felt gratitude towards all the volunteers who made the event possible--especially to members of the Fungus Fair Committee who tirelessly volunteered throughout the year to plan and implement this event. Thank you. Peter Mu Co-Chair, Santa Cruz Fungus Fair Committee Keeping the FUN in FUNgus at the 2026 Fair After Hours Dinner Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts A Short History of the Fungus Fair Santa Cruz Fungus Fair Logo Design Contest 2026 Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article

News & Stories / Field Reports Albion I Foray Species List — December 10-12, 2004 The Albion I, 2004 foray was a great success. The rains let up, the sun came out and we went out and collected 155 species. The potluck was outstanding! John Brown • February 1, 2005 Cortinarius alboviolaceus. © Ron Pastorino (from mykoweb.com) Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts 2006 Albion I Foray Species List Albion I Foray 2007 – Species List Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article

News & Stories / Mycology & Art News CEO's Epistle to the Fungophiles: October 2000 What's in a name? Candy caps... Lactarius fragilis , right? Well, no, now they're known as L. rubidus . Coccora... Amanita calyptrata ? Wrong, or at least outdated. I'm pretty sure A. calyptroderma is the currently favored epithet. Deb • October 1, 2000 Russula xerampelina. © Christian Schwarz (CC-BY-NC) (from inaturalist.org, obs. 144986819) Fungal taxonomy is extremely complex, with only a fraction of the world's species even described in the literature. Mycologists are constantly discovering new information dictating a change of genus or species, or a new variant. Molecular data from DNA studies is adding to the volume of information. We mere mortals do our best to keep up. This is nothing new, nor is it exclusive to mycology. The following excerpt is taken from Popular History of British Lichens by W. Lauder Lindsay, M.D., published in 1856. "Observations were imperfectly made, or were coloured and perverted by the dominant idea. Fruitless discussions were entered into on the reproductive functions, based on erroneous or imperfect data: each author built up a new classification and devised a new nomenclature. As a necessary consequence, genera and species have been in a constant state of transition, both as regards name and position in classification. Some Lichenologists, whose dominant tendency has been the splitting up of species, and the devising of new names, have been constantly creating new subdivisions of the family, new genera, new species and new varieties, thus adding materially to the complexity of the nomenclature and classification; others whose minds led them to generalize, have, on the other hand, been as actively employed in fusing together or combining certain genera and destroying others, thus contributing towards a simplification of the natural history of the Lichens." Lumpers and splitters. They've always been with us. The French have a saying "plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose"; the more things change, the more they remain the same. On a more esoteric level, some biologists are putting forth the concept of the Phylocode, an evolutionary tree of organisms. It's a bit controversial. You can find a description of the (biological) Tree of Life on Wikipedia. Scott Redhead wrote a piece entitled "The Phylocode: A Commentary" in the May/June issue of Inoculum , journal of the Mycological Society of America. You can find it, and much more, at https://msafungi.org/ . In another direction, the Mycological Society of America and the North American Mycological Society (NAMA) have recently put together a Joint Commission on Common Names of Fungi. Lorelei Norvell touched on this subject when she spoke to us this spring. The goal is to apply consistent common names to frequently found North American fungi. Thus we can be assured that "shrimp russula" means the same thing to you as it does to your friend in Minnesota. The taxonomic classification can change, but the taxon remains the same, as does the common name. Seems like a practical approach and those involved are to be commended. In the meantime, FFSC's Beginner/Intermediate Study Group meets monthly at the Museum — check the calendar for dates and times! Hope to see you there. Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article

News & Stories / Mycology & Art News Citizen Science - Amateur Ain't a Dirty Word In 2014, after a lot of flamey discussions over at Mushroom Observer, Christian Schwarz came to realize that many folks aren’t sure what "citizen science" is, how it works, or how it should be done. Christian Schwarz • July 5, 2014 A very far eastern Dendrocollybia… (hosted on https://mycobratpack.tumblr.com/). © Christian Schwarz "I thought a blog post might help quell the animosity and clear up some of the common outstanding questions and misconceptions under discussion," writes Christian. "The discussions revolve around Citizen Science and the associated questions: How does it work? Is it really science? Am I a citizen scientist? If so, is there a cure?" Read Christian's full article on Notes of a Mycophile (tumblr). Members Only Content Login Join FFSC Related Posts How Many Mushrooms in One Day? Previous Article All News & Stories Next Article