Some friends and I have a mountain biking club called the BPB's. We tell most people it stands for Boys Pedaling Bikes, but it's true meaning is substantially dirtier and more juvenile. Every summer we convene at our own little Dirt Camp, an excuse to get away from our chillun and wimminfolk and ride the trails of northern Wisconsin for a few days (and act dirty and juvenile). One of the highlights this year was stumbling across a huge chicken mushroom bloom; we collected them, hauled them back to camp, sautéd them in butter and gorged ourselves around the campfire. And swore and laughed like hyenas at dirty jokes and farts.