Four bicycles skidded to a halt, and the riders got off and circled the damp grass like hounds on the scent.
Their quarry: Marasmius oreades — alias the fairy-ring mushroom.
Manny Salzman spotted a cluster and pulled three from the ground. They looked like tiny gold pith helmets perched atop toothpicks.
“Look at these,” he said, flipping one over to expose its underside. “See how pretty the gills are? And they’re delicious too.”
It was noon at Cheesman Park, and as office workers across the city tucked into their tuna sandwiches, four members of the Denver Mycological Society stalked the urban mushroom.
If you think about mushroom picking at all, you probably envision harvesters scouring the deep woods.
But about 100 mushroom varieties grow in Denver, ranging from the poisonous (haymower’s, inky cap, common earthball) to the sublimely edible (morel, shaggy parasol and chanterelle among them).
Fans pursue them in parks, yards and hedges. “The field has so many facets, and you meet fascinating people,” said Salzman, 89, who is a retired radiologist.
Along with his wife, Joanne, Salzman was joined in his foraging by mushroom mavens Ed Lubow and Pete Marczyk.
Lubow, a ‘shroom hunter for 30 years, surveyed the park’s grassy expanse. Dogs romped, and sunbathers lolled. “I imagine there are a fair amount of mushrooms up,” he said.
Salzman was less certain.
“Looks like this grass has been cut recently,” he said. “The mower is the enemy of the city mushroom hunter.”
We pedaled off, looking for mulch piles, leaf litter and other places mushrooms loiter.
Marczyk, who learned mushroom hunting from his Polish grandparents, dropped his bike and pounced on a white mushroom. Slicing it lengthwise with a pocketknife, he held it to my nose.
“What aroma do you get?” he asked. “Most people smell a note of library paste.”
Sure enough, it was like sniffing a bottle of Eau de Kindergarten.
The mushroom was Agaricus xanthodermus, or yellow-foot agaricus. It is toxic. Eat it, and nausea and a spectacular two-day headache will follow.
“Although it won’t kill you, it’ll make you wish you were dead,” Lubow said.
He held up another species, a ball-shaped number named Chlorophyllum molybdites, the green- spored parasol.
“Very poisonous,” he said.
“Also known as the vomiter,” Marczyk said.
Mighty helpful, these folks.
Mushrooms are a fleshy fungus, as opposed to the type found in athlete’s foot. (For the record, that’s Salzman’s comparison, so if you’ve just lost interest in your mushroom omelet, blame him.)
While popular in the United States, the spores don’t enjoy cult status as they do in Europe. “The Russians are crazy about them,” Salzman said.
He is something of a mushroom evangelist, abuzz about the Colorado Mycological Society’s fair, slated Sunday from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. at the Denver Botanic Gardens.
Two weeks ago, he fretted the long, dry summer would scuttle the fair. Then the rains came like answered prayers.
Up popped the mushrooms.
“Here we tend to be like the British, who view them as contemptible toadstools,” Salzman said. “But they’re wonderful things.
“You can learn a lot about a culture by how they look at mushrooms.”
William Porter’s column runs Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Reach him at 303-954-1877 or wporter@denverpost.com.
