I had a professor in college, Mike Beug, who was an ardent fungophile. He would take our environmental studies classes out on walks in the woods, have us fan out and find mushrooms to bring back to him; whatever we brought back he'd identify, tell us its distinguishing characteristics, tell us how to cook it (if it was edible) or what it would do to you (if it was poisonous). He was awesome, pure awesome.
In Olympia, WA, the mushroom crop this time of year is great. We'd go out harvesting chanterelles as big as baseballs, bishop's mitres that you could smite a pope with (say it out loud), and one time a beautiful, brain-sized cauliflower mushroom that we turned into an exquisite casserole. It was the best thing about autumn.
Here in NC, the mushrooms are rarer. Finding a chanterelle the size of a shooter marble is difficult; while they're plentiful, they're mostly the size of a lima bean. Poisonous amanitas are far more common, and distinguishing between the edible and inedible russulas is something I've never learned to do.
But there's one compensation:
The horn of plenty mushroom, or black trumpet, a type of chanterelle with a flavor as rich and dark as its color. It is beyond compare, far and away my favorite mushroom. It's also very difficult to find, being somewhat rare and camouflaged very well against the deadleaf forest floor of Southern deciduous forests. When we find them, though--once every couple of years--we have a feast!
Daniel