A few of you commented on my preference for the American visor I seem to wear almost always these days. They say it takes off ten years. It keeps the sun out of my eyes when I'm on a stream. But my main reason for wearing it is out of respect for those who wear the uniform. And by uniform I mean accountants, pool cleaners and the poor guys from Roto-Rooter. 

I found out that I won best essay from Fourth Genre, out of Michigan State. I'm off to Germany on June 18th. Then a fishing extravaganza from July 15 to ?. Rocket and I will be driving to Alaska to see if one can bore from too many rainbows. I'll be wearing my visor. Will you?

This year was a great year for mushrooms. I received hundreds--thousands maybe--of letters from you about morels. I had two that really stood out and I want to address them here. The first one comes from Rebecca Anderson on Punta, Frio Costa Rico. Rebecca writes:

"Dear Dave, Can you tell me more about hunting wild mushrooms? What are your secrets? How do you have time with your busy schedule? Can I do it here in Costa Rica?"

Dear Rebecca, I'm glad you wrote. I only know about morels in the Rockies. I am thinking of going to California in the fall to take a class on some of the other varieties that are out there. But you should not put anything in your mouth that you aren't sure of, especially in Costa Rico and Houston. Next year look for a whole section on morels, perhaps a sister blog where I will skype and take people on real-time morel hunts with Bill Mixer serving as Master Guide.

This next letter comes from Steven Beirstat of Flatville, Indiana.

"Slap-dick, it sickens me to see you wasting your life with fungus and the like. You are probably a state employee and my tax dollars are wasted while you slap-dick around in your stupid rain jacket picking mushrooms, which are probably just drugs to get high with. You make me sick. Get a real life. PS--I hate your stupid face and your stupid visor you always wear."

Dear Steve, Thanks for the feedback. You have excellent instinct: I am a state employee. I work at the community college in Casper, Wy. These are golden and grey morels and I can assure you that they are in no way drugs. They do upset the stomach a bit, but that's all. As far as your tax dollars go, I'd like to point out that I could easily sell these morels at $45 a pound. If I do sell them you can be sure I will fill out the appropriate paperwork and pay my taxes. Thanks for being a great American. Dave

I was in Northern California with Christy Young for my annual king salmon/wine tasting getaway. Just like last year, I fished with Gary on the Seaweasle out of Eureka. It's only $175 for a day of fishing and you get to keep two kings. Find Gary at Full Throttle Fishing: http://fullthrottlesportfishing.com/ The ocean was rough--8 foot swells in the morning--but we managed 3 kings and a bunch of silvers we had to throw back. These kings are a bit of a secret along the coast. Their numbers fluctuate wildly, but so far, this has been a decent year.

This one went 19 pounds. We spent two days tasting wine in the Dry Creek region of Sonoma. There were light crowds, plenty of sunshine, and some great reds to taste.Next year I'm going to add a few days so I can stay in San Fran and spend some time with my old college friend Jason Keel. 

I suppose at one point writing about morels is a bit dull, but the shrooms were popping today. I took The Rodfather, aka Bill Mixer, out for some morning hunting today. To say it was good is an understatement; we found staggering numbers. The Rodfather used to hunt morels near his homeland (Jackson Hole) and he quickly set off into the woods, stopping here and there to stoop. He found some grand morels. Rocket got into a porcupine and Bill and I had to remove the quills with my Leatherman. Sorry Rock! Before I could turn around, the Rodfather scooped up most of my morels, claiming he'd dry them for elk season. Then he was off in a lick. He left only a few morels and the sickening smell of cigar smoke. This will be my last post on hickory chickens. The season is about done.

Second annual Trout by Trout West was held this weekend on the banks of the North Platte. I collected 47 morels for the event. Jason cooked carnitas and a dessert. We played old Biggie Smalls into the night. There were 14 in attendance. Weather was a mix of sunshine, hail and wind. Trout fishing was so so, mostly small fish. The Ray Charles worked best. There are a limited number of shirts left over. $10 a piece. See Jason for shirts.