The Mushroom Whisperers – 5280

“In a loose grove of aspens, on a high ridge not far from downtown Denver, Graham Steinruck walks at an impossibly slow pace. Every few feet, he stops and looks around. He notes the nickel-size leaves on the aspens. He pauses to feel the spongy texture of the soil under his feet. Everywhere, the forest speaks of renewal. Little green shoots of baby huckleberries poke out of the ground next to shrinking snowdrifts. Squirrels dart about, and meltwater turns into rivulets, winking in the brassy light.

With his jeans nearly falling off his reedy frame, Steinruck leaps over a stream and stoops down. From a basket nestled in the crook of his arm, he produces a digital meat thermometer, dusts it off, and plunges it into the soil. He squints, as if in deep concentration…”

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