Squirrel Tales

Squirrel Tales


The other day I ran into Joe at the food Coop. He explained how I had short-changed the truth in one of my previous journal entries. At first I was inclined to let sleeping dogs lie but Joe persuaded me otherwise. He very graciously told me a much more interesting story than the watered down and misleading version I had told.
Joe has always been a good teacher for me. He is an omnivore of conceptual thought and a connoisseur of knowledge (but not a Factinista). He's one of the people I run ideas by - to find out if they are sound. Often he sees connections that I have missed. He's better than a fact checker - he's a concept checker.
I make no apologies for mangling the truth. If you believe anything - all the way - on the first hearing, without digging deeper, then you deserve to be fooled. People will always tell you stuff they don't know. Usually they'll do it with a straight face and a degree or too.
Believer beware.

Squirrels, Mushrooms and Douglas Fir Roots.

Joe explains to me that the roots of Douglas Firs will naturally graft themselves together because they are they are genetically nearly identical, i.e. clones. When a Fir gets cut down it's root-mates will donate the juices to heal it. The living tissues grows from the outside of the stump over the top - providing a protective layer of living tissue.
It is one of the eighth wonders of a walk in the Northwest woods - to come upon one of these healed over stumps. I don't ever remember reading about this in a book and I came up empty handed after a few half-hearted attempts to find an Internet source, but local forest-lovers talk about it all the time.
“The part of the story that you probably don't know about is the connection between the Douglas Squirrels and the mycorhyzal fungi associated with Douglas Fir - it's a story that will make your hair stand on end.” Joe says.
He has my undivided attention, but not for long - a young and lovely friend shows up. Our squirrel/mushroom talk is temporarily on hold.

She wears big stylish, over-sized sunglasses and I have to ask her who she is. “I'm Sierra” she says, lifting her glasses and revealing a face that I recognize but can't quite place.“I've been down in Eugene for the last two years.” Sierra says. She's lost a little of that first flowering of youth and looks better for it. She talks about personal growth and radiates a quiet, down-to-earth joy without getting missionary about it.
I drift a little and miss some of the conversation, until I hear Sierra say: “... I finally figured out what my role is at the Festival. I'm a go between for these two women (Rose and Willow) who share the same space. I just listen to both, without taking sides.”
Sierra climbs up a notch in my esteem for her friendship with Rose.
“Rose is one of my best friends . So many of my friend have such a hard time with her. I know she can be difficult, but she's worth whatever effort it takes. For me Rose is a test. Anyone who is friends with Rose is a better person for it.” I say.
“It's one of the ways you can tell who's really part of the community.” Joe adds.
We all laugh.
Joe mentions another person who is an 'indicator person' - difficult for some to love. The person he mentions proves to be a perfect challenge for me. I can't help but laugh at myself, for the limits to my love and the absurd boundaries I create to protect myself, from this person who means me no harm. I explain this to Joe and Sierra.
“Yeah, but at least you recognize that it's not all her and that you have some responsibility for how you feel.” Joe consoles me.

This Time for Sure: Squirrels, Mushrooms and Douglas Fir Roots.

After Sierra leaves we grab a table in the deli and Joe begins to tell his story in earnest. To understand his story you have to know a little about mychorrizal mushrooms. Mushrooms live underground in the darkness of the soil but they bear their fruits above ground. We base our definitions and descriptions of fungi on the above ground parts. Out of sight, out of mind. This is the same as studying the apple, but forgetting about the tree. (unfortunately we do that too)
Welcome to the underground world of the mushroom. Fungi form networks or webs of minute tubes, spreading through the soil in three-dimensional tributaries. They play several crucial roles in the ecology of the soil. Above all they make connections - connections between the living and the dead, the world above and the world below. You can see this in their shape which resembles a nervous, circulatory or root system - systems designed for greater connectivity and exchange.
Joe comments: The trees work like a pump, their evapotranspiration - a major component of the trees' photosynthesis - is pulling water and nutrients through the fungal web. That is the core symbiosis. The horrible rotting smell that follows the clearcut of a mature forest is the fungal web - biomass approximately equal to the above ground biomass - suffocating, dying and eventually putrefying.
Fungi break down organic compounds in the soil which include dead and decaying materials, as well as, petroleum and petroleum by-products (pesticides). (It may seem weird to consider petroleum as an organic compound, until you remember that it comes from dead dinosaurs.) They also mine minerals from the soil.
Fungi form partnerships with plants, trading the bounties of the soil, for the riches of the sky world. They negotiate the difficult connection between the mysterious world of the soil and the creatures of light – most of whom could barely survive the darkness without their help.
In short they perform most of the tasks we usually associate with roots. Fungi that choose to partner with plants are described as mychorrizal. Check out Paul Stammets web site and books for more amazing mushroom lore.

Most plants have mychorrizal relationship with fungi. Take away the fungi and the plants usually perform poorly. Take away the organic matter and the fungi languish. Fungi are key players in one of the great cycles of life.
Of course there are countless other players, each with their own special role. One such character is the Douglas Squirrel who eats the mychorrizqal fungi for Douglas Firs. We tend to think of eating as an act of aggression, a one way ticket to oblivion for one of the partners in the process. When it is done properly, eating can also be a step in one of the great cycles of life. Not for the individual being eaten but for his species.
The Douglas Squirrel spreads the mychorrizal fungi associated with the Douglas Firs when they take a dump after eating the mushrooms. Their droppings contain a dose of mushroom spores, some fertilizer, a sprinkle of bacteria and all the good things needed for a new mushroom patch. Take away the Douglas Squirrel, and no new mychorrizal mushroom patches.

Joe comments: Paul Stamets made a fascinating connection for me at lecture he gave at the Fair year before last. He explained WHY he does not eat raw mushrooms anymore. They are totally armored on a protein level and are not bioavailable in any useful way. This protects them from parasites that would otherwise infest or ingest them. Which also allows them to pass through the G-I tract of the squirrel w/o becoming squirrel.
The scary part of the story involves Gray Squirrels, East Coast transplants who are displacing the Douglas Squirrels in the Northwest.
“The Gray Squirrels will have to learn how to plant the fungi. Otherwise the Douglas Firs are in trouble.” Joe says.
I can imagine a shrewd observer saying the something similar about the first white settlers “The Native Americans will have to teach them how to fish. Otherwise the salmon are in trouble.”

Some of the first Gray Squirrels to show up in Port Townsend, hung out at Chetzomoka Park. I remember asking Steve Cora if they planned on getting rid of them.
“We know they'll become a problem but we just can't bring ourselves to kill them.” he said.
When I was a kid I knew some older kids who could have have helped the Parks Department with their squirrels. One kid in particular liked to hunt squirrel even more than coon. He could spend hours talking about skinning and eating them. I know he did it to make me sick.
“There can't be enough meat in a squirrel to bother with.” I'd complain.
“You'd be surprised.” He'd say with the knowing smile of one who had killed.
I couldn't argue with that.
Even though I was used to eating cows and pigs and chickens, it bothered me that he ate squirrel. I laid awake at night thinking about how weird it would be to eat squirrel, and what a pervert he was, and how jealous I was that he had a gun and got to kill stuff, and I didn't.
In hindsight I realize that the suburban life-style of my family was displacing my squirrel-hunting friend and his family.

Recently I learned that the Douglas Squirrel mostly hangs around the same neck of the woods. The flying squirrels travel much farther and are more important for introducing the mushrooms to new places. My friend Greg who lives in Olympia worked on flying squirrel studies. He's not so worried about the Gray Squirrels.
“They mostly hang out where there are people. They can't survive in the forests.” He tells me.
I decide to quit worrying about the Gray Squirrels. This month I'm going to concentrate on worrying about global warming. Next month ...