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This page is dedicated to morel humor for the most part. However,  you will notice shades of morel dislike and sarcasm, by the unenlightened, peeking through some of the text.

   I once made the mistake of convincing one of my more open minded (??) brothers to  "just try some morels".  "You'll love them!"   Needless to say he didn't share the same taste (or maybe parents?) as I.  He never forgave me for making him eat those little pieces of bicycle tires, soaked in turpentine.   "I hate 'em, I hate 'em, I hate 'em!"  I have had nothing but grief from him ever since, whenever the subject of morels comes up.  So it no surprise that when I sent him an E-mail bragging on the number of hits to my morel pages this spring, that he sent me this on the "many uses for morels.

Aussie Humor

  We have an Australian friend who came over to visit us a couple of years ago.  She had never seen or heard of morels.  When Debbie told her of my web site, she went there and looked around and then found the message board.  Lord help us when she does arrive.  I think we'll be in for two weeks of side-splitting laughter.

Here is her posting from the message board. (spring 2001)
------------------------------------------
Dear Frank,
    I need some advice. I will be visiting Michigan during morel season, and my friends have expressed their interest in taking me morel hunting.  A pacifist by nature, I am concerned about hunting anything in the woods, but am happy to give it a go.

My question(s) to you are:

    a)  What size gun do you suggest I bring?
    b)  Do morels attack, or are they basically shy?
    c)  Do I need a license to hunt them?
    d)  Is there a bag limit, or can I shoot as many as I like?
    e)  Is there a market for the pelt of the morel?
    f)  Are they on the endangered species list?

                                                               Rae   -  from Adelaide,  Australia

       Of course you Knew someone would e-mail me about this.  Right?  Here is that email.
         ------- (Took him long enough. this E-mail recieved July 16th, 2001) -------

An Open Letter to an Australian Visitor to Michigan, My Beautiful Michigan:

Greetings to Rae:

As a lifelong resident of the Great State of Michigan, U.S.A. until recently, may I take this opportunity to apologize on behalf of all current and former Residents for your recent exposure to our "less than desirable" citizens. I assure you, most Michigan residents are normal, Morel Hunters being the exception.

The term "Morel Hunter" must be taken in it's proper context. Your host is a prime example. For years, his nickname has been "Fudd", named after (most appropriately, as it turns out) a very famous, but not real bright, loony tunes character; a pig. Pigs sniff and root out truffles. Morel Hunters...well, you get the idea.

I wasn't privy to the answers your host provided to your well meaning questions, but I'm sure you were grossly misled to say the least, so I'll try to provide you greater illumination on the subject as best I can.

Your questions were:

    a)  What size gun do you suggest I bring?

I strongly suggest you never carry any weapon capable of bodily harm while in the presence of a Morel Hunter. The temptation to shoot them in their brain cavity while they are bent over picking a morel is just too great. You may take heart however, in the event you DO accidentally shoot a morel hunter in such a location. It's nearly impossible to hit their brain unless you are a qualified sharpshooter with years of experience, carrying a weapon outfitted with a high powered microscope.

b) Do morels attack, or are they basically shy?

Morels are insidious aberrations of nature, and should never be trusted. They just lie there in gray, lifeless clumps until they are picked by their co-conspirators, and prepared for your consumption. Upon ingestion, they are capable of a transformation you may never recover from. I've never experienced the horror of consuming such gastronomically incompatible preparations. However, my slightly younger, and much dumber brother has. If you met him, you can see what the consumption of just ONE of these things can cause. It permanently destroyed every functional brain cell he ever had. He's now a Republican.

c) Do I need a license to hunt them?

No. You should carry on your person at all times, a certificate from a qualified Psychologist stating you are not crazy - and be prepared to have your Doctor's credentials questioned in a very skeptical manner, should you be found in the company of a Morel Hunter.

d) Is there a bag limit, or can I shoot as many as I like?

You may shoot as many as you like for as long as you like, in, out of, or on a bag - there will be no change in either texture, or taste unless you are fortunate enough to eat the bag by mistake.

e) Is there a market for the pelt of the morel?

Definitely. Any Morel Hunter will spend thousands of dollars on them, and the beauty of this market is that they will never wise up. Your market share will be limited only by the number of Morel Hunters you can find.

f) Are they on the endangered species list?

We're trying our best, believe me!!!!!!!

Sincerely,
Dan'l
A non-Morel Hunter (a.k.a. 'Normal Person') formerly of the State of Michigan
 

The White Morel Hunt

The following is a cleaned up version (Insert your own expletives of choice),
of a different email I sent to my brother, a non-morel person, and his response.

May 2000       Dear Dan'l,

      I've never found but a couple of white morels in years past.
So this year I made a real effort to find some. Let me tell you they are not as easy to find as the blacks.  I went over to an area between Boyne Falls and Wolverine, MI. The whites have been doing quite  good there. They must have because all I could find was morel stems left from other pickers. LOL

      I went back there yesterday afternoon determined I would walk where no man has walked before.                Well I certainly did a lot of walking anyway.

     When I was tired of climbing all those hills I headed back to the car. Darn! Must have came out below where I parked it. I'll just go back in the woods and climb that huge hill and walk the ridge line until I can spot my car. Might even find some white morels on the way.

     So I walked where no man has been before.........AWAY from my car.

      I climbed to the top of the ridge and started walking, still uphill. I could see the road from way up there so I knew I could spot my car. I walked a mile uphill along that ridge line. Of course I had to cross a few valleys and gullies, which meant I had to re-climb that bad news hill again and again.  I could see the roadway from the ridge, but never my car. I entertained the thought that maybe my car was stolen.  So I climbed down from my lofty level to the road, and trudged back down the hill to catch a ride to a phone.

      When I got to where I had came out of the woods the first time looking for the car, I knew for sure it was stolen. So I kept walking. About 150 yards around a small curve sat my car.  Oh No!   I was within yards of it and had decided to go the wrong way! LOL

      The good news is; I DID find 4 white morels in 4 hours of walking and climbing!
The bad news is; I've sworn off the White morels. ... They can have those stupid things!  I've got lots of Blacks dried right now, so the heck with those whites!

Hmmmm.......     Wonder where I can go tomorrow to look for some more?

Signed
Frank
 

My smart alec brother's reply, which he sent to EVERYONE!

ATTENTION: All family, friends & fellow hunters!

Your help is needed again this year.

      A fanatic has once again succumbed to the adventurous call of the wild, only to forget it is the wild.   The last known communication from the subject is garbled.

      A slow learning "Morel Hunter" (yes, I know that's a redundancy) has once again become disoriented (more so than usual), and was last seen walking uphill on ridges (presumably upright) sobbing out desperately;  "Here Whitie, here whitie!!"  It is not known if that is the color of his car or if he had sampled the wares of the woods with even less intelligence than he parked his car.  As you well know, it's often difficult, if not impossible, to measure the intelligence level of these types in an effort to discern their actions.

      The victim is a large (make that *very* large) Caucasian middle aged male who may or may not answer to his scientific name of Stupidus Frankus. If spotted, communication with this creature may be established much quicker by shouting "HEY STUPID!" rather than bothering with the more formal version of identification.  You will recall this is a life form who misplaced a large object resting on four wheels which is incapable of movement without him.    So peak intelligence shouldn't be assumed.

      Also, once this hapless hoofer is located, you should remain in one place while attempting to communicate, using words of one syllable or less. He confuses very easily, as is evidenced by the annual need to reorient him.  He can be easily identified by a label somewhere on his clothing which will say "If found, send this Dummy home to Debbie".  That notation may also be imprinted on his very expansive forehead in block letters.

      While generally docile in nature, subject will occasionally display short term bursts of irrationality when asked where his transportation is. This can be easily quelled by placing a lit cigarette in his mouth.  However, caution should be used when doing this, as he tends to walk away following the tip of the cigarette, thinking it is a white morel.  For this reason, please try to ensure the cigarette is pointed towards a tree as large, or larger than himself. If none that large are available, bend the cigarette slightly and he'll walk in circles until the cigarette is finished.

                  The generous donation of your time is greatly appreciated.

                  Sincerely,
                  Dan'l
                  The Committee to Save Stupid Morel Hunters
                  Northern Michigan Branch
                  North Carolina Office

See humor (Page Two)