Back in the day when I was a bona fide logger in Montana, I usta go shrooming with a coworker who lived in the woods in a homemade camp trailer built on a vintage flatbed semi-trailer pulled by a 1950's Mack tractor. As it happens, many mushrooms like to proliferate in burned over clearcuts. Calf Brains and Elephant Ears are the two I remember, I'd hang out some days after murdering a hundred tree, or so, and we'd feast on scrambled eggs and sauteed mushrooms with a dessert of half a cantaloupe filled with cottage cheese. Keith (Hammer) had a banjo and I had a fiddle, so we'd entertain the squirrels and ourselves for an hour before I'd drag my tired ass home in a pink 1947 Willys Jeep.

The good ol' days.

You never change things by fighting the existing reality.
To change something, build a new model that makes the old model obsolete.
R. Buckminster Fuller