Waxcaps and Other Grassland Fungi on Hadrian’s Wall

I won’t pretend to know the slightest thing about fungi. As a botanist, I find I can only retain a small amount of non-plant-related information at any one time, and for some reason, whenever someone tries to instruct me on fungus identification, the information seems to travel in one ear and promptly out the other. While I struggle to make sense of them, however, I do rather enjoy their appearance, particularly in autumn when they offer something to look for during the botanical “off-season.” Of all of them, it’s the waxcaps that I enjoy the most.

There’s just something about these brightly coloured, glutinous grassland fungi that appeals to me more than other mushrooms. Perhaps it’s because they tend to grow in special places, or because their presence often signifies habitats of high conservation value. Despite this, they’re a tricky bunch for beginners like me. Still, it never hurts to try, and this weekend, equipped with a new field guide, Matt and I set out to the ancient grasslands of Hadrian’s Wall to see which waxcaps and other grassland fungi we could find.

We started out by visiting the area near the Sill, a spot we had also explored last year, albeit late in the season. Whereas last year the Crimson Waxcap Hygrocybe punicea was by far the most numerous species we encountered, this year that title went to the lovely, if somewhat beige, Meadow Waxcap Cuphophyllus pratensis. Those that had not been trampled by passing sheep looked rather fresh.

Another easy one to spot here was the Snowy Waxcap Cuphophyllus virgineus. We gave a few a good sniff to rule out the Cedarwood Waxcap Cuphophyllus russocoriaceus, but alas, they smelled pretty “mushroomy” to me.

Another nice one to identify was the slimy Parrot Waxcap Hygrocybe psittacina, a pretty variable little thing that usually shows a hint of green in both the stipe and the cap. This is probably the species I’m most accustomed to seeing in Newcastle, so no problems there. It isn’t the most striking of fungi, though.

The species mentioned so far are admittedly on the dull side, but thankfully several of the others present were a little more vibrant, if somewhat confusing. The yellow ones in particular warranted a closer look, as both of the common species, Butter Waxcap Hygrocybe ceracea and Golden Waxcap Hygrocybe chlorophana, are rather similar. I’m inclined to think that the ones below are Golden Waxcap, on account of their narrowly attached gills, but I’d happily be corrected. They also tend to grow a little larger than Butter Waxcap.

If the above guess is correct, I’m rather hoping the slightly squashed specimen below turns out to be Butter Waxcap. Where the gills attach to the stipe, they certainly look a bit different. It also wasn’t quite as slimy as those above and seemed to fit the description of that species as “greasy.”

Another tricky group are the red waxcaps. There are several species, but I believe the most common in this area are Scarlet Waxcap Hygrocybe coccinea and Crimson Waxcap Hygrocybe punicea. Someone told me a while back that you can tell the two apart by the stipe, which is fibrous in Crimson Waxcap and smooth in Scarlet. In that case, I’m taking a punt on Scarlet Waxcap for the one below – a beautiful little fungus.

The rather large mushroom below, spotted last year, might just be Crimson Waxcap, given its noticeably fibrous stem. If not, I’ve been barking up the wrong tree!

ast but not least at the first site was a tiny, lurid red-orange mushroom shown below. Thankfully, local naturalist Chris Barlow had arrived a short while before us and had identified it as Vermillion Waxcap Hygrocybe miniata – a new one for me. You can’t quite make out the “grainy texture” in my photos, but I’ve been assured that it is visible in Chris’s.

Chris also did a superb job pointing out a range of other grassland fungi that I would probably have overlooked if visiting the site on my own. Among them were the three rather alien-looking species shown below.

After a quick lunch break, we decided to head to another site a few miles away at Walltown. While there were fewer fungi to be seen, some of the usual suspects were apparent.

We only spent an hour or so at the latter site, but we did note what could possibly be a new species for the day’s haul. Now, I have never seen Fibrous Waxcap Hygrocybe intermedia, but from some on-the-spot reading, I’ve taken a punt with the specimen shown below. It is certainly orange and has a noticeably fibrous stem, though the cap isn’t particularly fibrous-looking. Who knows!

I will never be a mycologist and, indeed, have no desire to be. However, waxcaps do have a certain allure, and it was nice to try something different for a change. At least the two species shown below were less problematic…

Top 10 Facts: Fly Agaric

Infamous. Amantia muscaria is one of the most recognisable fungi in the world. A recent study by European scientists, during which subjects were shown images of various mushrooms, found that respondents successfully identified the species on 96% of occasions. Common, white forms of fungi were successfully identified by only 53% of participants.

Romanticised. The red and white spotted toadstool is rife in popular culture. So much so that garden ornaments and children’s books often depict gnomes and fairies [even Smurfs] using Fly Agaric as a home or seat. The mushroom features strongly in the video game series Super Mario Bros – specifically used as a power-up item – and, perhaps more famously, featured in the dancing mushroom sequence in the 1940 Disney flick, Fantasia. Perhaps this explains its global recognition.

Fly Agaric, spotted at Gosforth Nature Reserve

Toxicity. Fly Agaric contains several biologically active agents. One of these, Ibotenic Acid, is a known neurotoxin; while another, muscimol, is a powerful psychoactive. When ingested, the former serves to intensify the effect of the latter. A fatal dose of agaric has been calculated as 15 caps but, despite dramatisation in historical texts, fatal poisonings are extremely rare. The North American Mycological Association has stated that there were: no reliably documented cases of death from these mushrooms in the past 100 years.

Nasty side-effects. It is not recommended that you consume Fly Agaric, and side-effects of consumption are known to include nausea, drowsiness, muscle spasms, low blood pressure, hallucinations and loss of balance. In extreme cases, seizures and coma have been recorded. Symptoms typically appear between 30-90 minutes after consumption and peak within three hours, although many unlucky souls have reported ‘piercing headaches’ for many days after.

Those SiberiansAmanita muscaria was widely used as an entheogen [psychoactive] by many indigenous peoples in Siberia. In Western parts, its use was mainly restricted to shamans who used the fungi as a means of inducing a trance-like state; while its use in Eastern parts was traditionally more recreational. Here, shamans would take the mushrooms and others would drink their urine: with internal processes serving both to amplify the potency of the mushroom as a psychoactive, and to reduce its harmful toxicity.

‘Fly’ Agaric. The name Fly Agaric stems from the use of this fungi as an insecticide in some parts of Europe, including England and Germany. Often its cap was broken up and sprinkled into milk so to form an irresistible, yet deadly, trap for flying insects. The species’ use as an insecticide was first recorded by Albertus Magnus in his work De vegetabilibus around 1256. Recent research has shown this particular old wives tale to be true, and the famed fly-killer is now known to be Ibotenic Acid.

Berserker myths. Many texts, television shows and even blog posts buy into the historical depiction of Vikings as routine Amanita muscaria users. Specifically, Viking Berserkers were rumoured to consume the fungi prior to battle – to induce a state of unrivalled ferocity. A notion first suggested by Swedish professor Samuel Ödmann in 1784.  There are, however, no contemporary sources that mention this use or anything similar in their description of berserkers. It may just be made up…

Symbiosis. This fungus has a symbiotic association with birch and pine trees – meaning that both the host tree and the fungi derive benefits from a close association. In this instance, the fungal mycelium ferries nutrients into the tree roots and, in return, receives important sugars from the tree’s photosynthesis of sunlight.

Chameleon. The characteristic red colour of Fly Agaric may fade after rain or in older mushrooms – lending the toadstool a washed-out, orange appearance. The famous white spots on the cap, visible after emergence from the ground, are also easily displaced. These are remnants of the universal veil, a membrane that encloses the entire mushroom when it is still very young.

Varieties. Contrary to popular depictions, two additional forms of Fly Agaric are known to occur in Britain. These are Amanita muscaria var. aureola, boasting a vibrant orange-yellow cap, and Muscaria var. Formosa is a rather rare brown or yellow-brown form sporting a slightly tinted veil. Both of these are seldom seen and those lucky enough to stumble across them on their fungal forays should count themselves lucky.