BY NOW, I think we’ve all had it up to here with people complaining about the rain. That’s crazy. Psychologists have finally identified this chronic nervous disorder as “ombrophobia,” a fear of rain.
Sufferers of this condition can easily be identified. They are the ones who hide indoors when it’s raining and only venture outside in a precipitation event with umbrellas, galoshes and ponchos.
This makes absolutely no sense when comparing the obvious benefits of rain to the real and present danger of the sun’s harmful rays.
Tourists often ask if it always rains here. Tell them yes.
Warning tourists of the constant rain is the best defense against the danger of them moving here.
The Peninsula you save could be your own.
Don’t bother mentioning the many benefits of rain.
No one has ever heard of anyone getting a rain burn. Or suffering the effects of rain stroke. There has never been a case of anyone getting cancer from too much rain.
Do your own research. If you sit in the sun, you will get hot. Sitting in the rain is cool.
Nothing will make you appreciate the rain more than not having any. We got 3½ inches of rain last week. It fell like a blessing from the heavens.
We need the rain to put out the forest fires, raise the creeks for the salmon to run and sprout the mushrooms for the forest dwellers to pick.
Make no mistake. Mushroom fever has hit the Olympic Peninsula early this year.
This is an annual event that is invariably followed by that other seasonal inevitability, the lost mushroom picker.
There are actually two types of mushroom pickers. The mushroom pickers who have been lost and those who haven’t been lost yet.
Picking the chanterelle mushroom is one of the best ways to get lost. It’s like the world’s biggest Easter egg hunt.
You race through the woods with visions of mushroom marinara in your head. You see more and bigger mushrooms just up the hill and down the other side, where you cannot believe your eyes.
You had no idea there were this many mushrooms on Earth. It’s a good thing you didn’t tell anyone where you were going or when you would be back or they might horn in on your secret mushroom patch.
You wander alone in the woods with your eyes on the ground from one mushroom to the next. The mushroom fever has you in its grip.
At some point, it occurs to you that you are hopelessly lost. You try to retrace your steps, but the forest looks the same in every direction.
As darkness descends, you walk faster in what you are sure is the right direction — but it is not.
People say you shouldn’t panic when you are lost in the woods, but these are the same people who say you shouldn’t panic when attacked by a cougar or the IRS.
Fortunately, there are steps you can take to avoid getting lost, such as carrying the 10 essentials of wilderness travel. These include a compass, but you have to read your compass before you get lost, and who has time for that when you’re picking mushrooms?
There are only two essentials for mushroom picking — a knife and a bucket. If that’s all you have, be sure to park your vehicle in the middle of the road when picking mushrooms.
Inevitably, someone will come along and honk their horn to get you to move it.
Follow the horn and find the road.
It’s a cure for mushroom fever.
You’re welcome.
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Pat Neal is a Hoh River fishing and rafting guide and “wilderness gossip columnist” whose column appears here every Wednesday.
He can be reached at 360-683-9867 or by email via patnealproductions@gmail.com.
