Originally published in the Winter 2000/2001 issue of Mushroom, The Journal

The news from the heartland is not good. Manure ponds bursting with fecal-rich effluent
leach dangerously into the watersheds. River ecosystems are imperiled. Pfisteria, E. Coli,
amoebic parasites and viruses are posing ever-increasing threats to our health as
corporate farms place profit and production at the expense of environmental health.
As a nation we face a biological time bomb in yet another example that fact can be
stranger than fiction. The successful practices of small farms are not replicable for
industrial factory-farms which crowd ever-increasing populations of livestockhogs,
cattle, and chickens in particularinto tighter quarters for ease of feeding and
slaughtering. The enormous consequence of the waste by-products stresses the health of
human and environment alike.
Many believe we have exceeded the critical mass of what our habitats can absorb. Our
waste streams literally runneth over, into the waterways of our nation, wreaking havoc
which can be felt on every level of society. Scientists have publicly speculated on the
ultimate consequence of such practices, but only cataclysms draw the public's immediate
attention. Soon, for most citizens, an atmosphere of "all is well" prevails in absence of
blatant, disastrous evidence to the contrary. We exist perilously close to the edge. The
menace of manure overflows can spread diseases not yet known. As one friend ruefully
warned me, we must be more careful, since "Nature bats last, and the bases are loaded".
As populations encroach upon once rural lands, the threat of biological disasters from
untreated farm wastes represents a virulent threat to our personal and national well
being. Corporate giants play political football, demonizing opponents, especially anyone
supporting government regulations, pitting farmers against environmentalists. The game
of who controls our biological future takes on a surreal atmosphere of a bad science
fiction novel. Proposed solutions have been few and far between. In absence of a remedy,

the theater of conflict features a growing cultural divide. Is there a solution? I think so.
The opportunity lies, literally, underfoot.
Hog farms are particularly worrisome to environmental scientists for the enormous
problems they cause. Recently, when hurricanes hit North Carolina with a vengeance, the
monsoon rains caused dikes to burst, flooding thousands of acres with animal feces and
causing incalculable health problems for both farm and non-farm residents. Residents in
Charlotte, many of whom thought they were well removed from the threat of manure
ponds, were rudely awakened to the enormity of the problem when it covered their
doorsteps. Filth filled the streets, flooding basements. The collateral damage is still being
calculatedthe fouling of wells, the loss of fisheries, crops, livestock, the spread of
diseases including mysterious illnesses, and not the least was a growing erosion of public
confidence in farmers as good neighbors, etc.
The best of ideas are those which are self-evident. Our extended family (my cousin) farms
wheat and barley in Eastern Washington on a several thousand-acre farm. First settled by
my great grandfather, the Davis farm in the Palouse country is renowned for its thick and
rich topsoil, a gift from the unrelenting winds over thousands of years that stripped
eastern Oregon of its surface sediment and deposited its riches to the north. Once more
than 100 feet deep, farming practices have steadily depleted the soil bank to a mere
fraction of its original state in only a hundred years. Understandably, fertilizers have
become increasingly important for sustaining crop yield. Several years ago, my cousin Jim
Davis of St. John, Washington, adopted the no-till method of farming, much to the
skepticism of neighbors. On a recent visit in October, he pointed to the family wheat fields
adjacent to a neighbor who continued the practices of his predecessors. Our farmlands
were rolling hills of chopped stubble that had been left for Nature to recyclewhereas
the neighbor's fields were furrowed with deep grooves from erosion. The contrast in the
loss of topsoil was dramatic, and a clear lesson to even the most uneducated.
The no-till method succeeds largely due to an unseen allybeneficial fungal mycelia.
Researchers at Montana State University have discovered that the resident mycoflora,
particularly the "higher" fungi (sexual fungi which produce a fleshy reproductive structure,
i.e. a mushroom) aggressively decomposes the stubble in no-till farms. These nearly
invisible saprophytic allies extend their fine filaments of fungal cells, separating plant
fibers, and through their enzymatic systems, break down plant cells into basic nutrients.
The need for fertilizers is reduced. Soil is created. Soil structure improves. Erosion is
minimized as water is slowed and absorbed into the sponge-like mycelial networks. The
end result is a crop less demanding for external subsidies. The no-till method is the first
major step agriculture has adopted on the road to greater sustainability. What I propose is
the next logical step.
As the mycelium decomposes the crop stubble, an extensive network of fine cells is
projected. This cellular network is literally a food web for the fungus. Not only is the
mycelial network exquisitely efficient in recycling plant debris, but it is also efficient in

another surprising arena. The mycelium can gobble up bacteria and sequester nitrogen,
slowing the passage of water (and effluent), and in doing so becomes a biological filter. I
call the use of mycelium in this fashion mycofiltration. The beauty of this method is that it
is Nature-designed and proven in the laboratory of life. How to maximize the beneficial
properties of mycelia is the challenge we face. The technological expertise, however, is
surprisingly simple and readily adaptable to current farm practices.
Farms are generally well equipped for rapidly adopting the fungal solution to pollution,
especially those using an abundance of wood chips and straw, and those growing cereal
grains, such as wheat and corn. Corncobs are perfectly structured for hosting mushroom
mycelia, with a combination of fiber and microcavities allowing aeration and food for
rapid colonization. Mushroom mycelium is highly adaptive, and is far easier to grow than
actual mushrooms.

Example of a mycofiltered manure holding pond

Gently sloped land below a feeding lot or manure pond is an ideal site for locating a
mycofilter. The key is the continual seepage of effluent from the pond into an aboveground constructed organic "drainfield". What this means is that a crude mixture of waste
straw, sawdust and/or wood chips, and a wide assortment of farm wastes are loosely
scattered on the ground to a depth of 12 inches, in layers. In fact, you are creating a
shallow compost pile. The first layer should be sawdust or wood chips spread to a depth
of 3-4 inches. The next layer, about 4 inches deep, containing corncobs and sawdust
mushroom spawn, is applied on top. The spawn can be applied by hand, or by using a
silage spreader. Spawn is applied at the rate of .25 lbs to .5 lbs per square foot. The final
layer is loose straw laid to a depth of 4-6 inches. The straw layer provides shade, aeration,
and allows moisture to flow to the central layer. The surface area of the mycofilter should
be at least equal to several times the surface area of the manure pond/field, depending
upon depths, slope and flows. Each mycofilter has to be customized to every location.
If living in an area of high wind, where evaporation is a problem, placing waste cardboard
over the top, but underneath the straw, will greatly aid the underlying mushroom mycelia.
Once built, preferably in the spring, sprinklers are set up for the first two weeks until the
system becomes charged with mycelia. Once established, the mycofilter will mature in a
few months, and can become resident for years, provided that organic debris is
periodically added to the top layer, and then recovered with straw. Red worms quickly
proliferate and transform the mycelium, cardboard and residue into rich soil. On a two

year cycle, the newly emerging earth berm can be broken down using a front loadertractor, scooped up, and used as soil. The exact cycle will depend upon many factors, as
the farm manager goes up the learning curve. Incidentally, gourmet mushrooms will form
coinciding with spring, summer and fall rains. These mushrooms "re-seed" the beds,
provided there is enough food for them to digest. For more information on project
mycelium into outdoor settings, please refer to my book, Growing Gourmet & Medicinal
Mushrooms, Ten Speed Press.
This idea came to me when, after moving to a waterfront farm on Skookum Inlet,
Washington State, I installed outdoor mushroom beds in two gently sloping sections of my
property which eventually became ravines leading to the beach where my neighbor
commercially grows shellfish. I had inherited a small herd of 6 Black Angus cows, and a
program to monitor upland sources of fecal coliform found my property was a source of
pollution. One year after installing beds of mushroom mycelium, out-flowing water quality
dramatically improved, gaining the attention of local officials. A series of further studies
ensued, which later got the attention of researchers at the Battelle Marine Science
Laboratories in Sequim, Washington. To make a long story short, we have applied for a
patent for the destruction of targeted pollutantsboth chemical and biologicalbut
essentially the concept is the same.
I encourage farmers to try this method. The amount of time for installation a "mycoberm"
is minimal, taking a day in most cases. The cost of spawn is probably the biggest expense,
but once established and cared for, the mycelium can re-generate itself until the debris
base has been reduced to soil. As the berms mature, they usually become covered with
native grasses, which also have bioremediative properties. A universe of compatible
organisms matures in this habitat, with mushroom mycelium being the keystone
organism, opening the door to biological complexity, and ecological fortitude. I have a
sense of personal pride in having come up with this idea, as I come from a family of
farmers and scientists, conservatives and liberals. The mushroom mycelium is both an
ideological and practical bridge between two extremes, harmonizing the activities of
humans with nature.
Paul Stamets