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About The daily Astorian. (Astoria, Or.) 1961-current | View Entire Issue (June 13, 2020)
CONTACT US FOLLOW US Alyssa Evans aevans@dailyastorian.com facebook.com/ DailyAstorian THE ASTORIAN • SATURDAY, JUNE 13, 2020 • B1 The allure of landscapes Leadbetter Point State Park is a place for refl ection, nature viewing By DAVID CAMPICHE M y friend Steve Romero is one of those undeterred guys who steps off a trail and plunges into the deep underbrush in pursuit of wild ingredients: fi ddlehead ferns, watercress and the allu- sive wild oyster mushroom. He steps for- ward gleefully, his heart beating rapidly. “I am home,” he thinks. The word bushwhack comes to mind. “Hurry up,” he says, “I’ve blazed a trail and back there a few hundred yards I found a dead alder tree loaded with oyster mushrooms.” Off we go, two souls on a pilgrimage. The deep forest creates a trance. The air is fragrant but seems a bit short of breath. So is the light, thin, that is — fractured and ladled out in small, delicate servings. The ground is thick underfoot, damp and crowded with a patchwork of bramble. False solomon seal pokes upward like a soft carpet. I c ount the ferns. F our varieties. Five. Six. Salmonberry bushes, not yet ripe, crowd against us like an outcropping of humans on a New York City subway plat- form. H uckleberry idles, the fruit’s blos- som still months away. The tall majestic trees are mostly alder, spruce and pine. On the dead alder stumps lay pale-white oyster mushrooms called so because of their color, shape and sublime taste. We trudge on, cautiously stepping between the verdant plants, careful not to break a limb or branch. Perhaps this is a territorial instinct or the ancient precau- tion of remaining hidden from the gleam- ing eyes of a predator. The sun lilts south. The days are still short but not as drastic as during winter. Under the green scattering, nearly black after the rainfall are thousands of falling needles. Fluttering, gathering, rotting. Unlike the spread of concrete and asphalt, this is the natural way of the planet. With decay comes life. Steve is a city kid who built a home in Oysterville, Washington, and adapted to the natural world in his backyard like a badger seeking shelter under a decayed stump or a tunnel wedged into clay and duff. In Steve’s backpack is a pair of shears. Along the way he clears away some of the gorse. Yes, he is trailblazing in a sense. Truth be told, that lovely yellow-clad bush with sharp spines is quickly invad- ing the fragile ecosystem of Leadbetter Point State Park and the Long Beach Pen- insula. Park rangers spend a lot of time attacking the pest. They may be losing the battle. Our two families have been quaran- tined for a couple of months. Steve and I arrived in separate cars. The only other mammal we see is a sow bear. “Thirty feet away,” he says. The bear seems indifferent and we slowly slink away. I am glad to be here, bear or no bear. I feel the release of so much pent-up energy, and a fair amount of anxiety, to boot. I am thinking, you too can take a walk into the green lush world of our backcountry, the out-bush of the Long Beach Peninsula. Photos by David Campiche See Park, Page B4 TOP: A row of wild oyster mushrooms. ABOVE: Steve Romero gathers oyster mushrooms on a decayed alder log.
