A truffling we do go - Oregon truffles
I tramped through Douglas fir on a truffle quest with ever delightful Terry and a local couple, Bob and Deb, and their dog, Tucker, who is in his second year of truffle hunting training. This makes me the novice, having never so much as tasted a truffle, although certain that I’ll love the flavor. It’s a gray, overcast day. No rain. Flat ground amid the rising ambrosia of bruised fir needles and soil. Forest smells. All is happy in my world today.
Tucker is on the loose running through the woods, nose to ground. The hunt is on. He stops and begins digging. Immediately we humans rush to the spot and Bob gets down on his knees and checks the surrounding area. No luck this time, it’s a small animal tunnel. Tucker is off again. Bob hides a truffle scented container in some ferns, a training technique to remind the dog what he’s looking for, and in an amazingly brief time Tucker obliges! Terry and I are totally impressed.
(Okay, so what I want to know is since dogs have an incredible sense of smell, why do they roll in rotten and vile effluvia?)
Raked patches in the duff indicate poachers have preceded us in this section of forest, which lies close to a highway. We move up the mountain seeking an untapped area.
Tucker scores again. Down goes Bob, hand-raking the area carefully. He doesn’t find a truffle but offers up a handful of soil for us to smell saying there is a truffle nearby; its scent has permeated the soil. We didn’t find it but that soil definitely had a unique aroma – sorry that I’m unable to describe it. But I have smelt it before! I associate it with fern smells and learned today that truffles are sometimes found around ferns. Hmm.
No joy today, but there’s truffles in them thar hills. So next time.
Deb offered pointers on training Moose and Bob gave me two scent containers so I’m rarin to go.
Mossy oak tree



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