Seeking mushroom foragers took me up Rt.1 yesterday, into a town whose name I promised not to reveal...suspicious folk up in the mountains. After a 4 hour drive to meet a woman that didn't show up, a casual conversation with a gas station attendant proved fruitful. Turns out her brother picks mushrooms, and his son, and all their friends. Generations of them, hunter gatherers the lot. I also managed to get a promised wild boar hunt out of the deal, so the next forage dinner may be that much more interesting.