Psilocybe Subtropicalis:
The Ever-Living Mystery of Semperviva and Its Taxonomic Saga
Written By: Basidium Equilibrium
From Xalapa to Oaxaca, from the sun-drenched foothills of the Sierra Madre Oriental to the misty slopes of the Sierra Nevada, southern Mexico harbors a small, unassuming group of fungi named Psilocybe Subtropicalis with a history that could fill volumes. These tiny, enigmatic mushrooms aren’t just random dots in the landscape. They’re part of the fabric of this land, nestled in mossy gullies where water carves through earth that’s been worn down by centuries of natural force. It’s a place where time moves slowly, but the stories these mushrooms carry are as ancient as the rocks beneath your feet.
Sierra Madre Oriental
In the rugged, timeless landscapes of Oaxaca, Mexico, the use of psilocybin mushrooms isn’t just a ritual; it’s a way of life. For centuries, maybe even millennia, indigenous cultures have looked to these sacred fungi as a means of stepping beyond the veil. Tapping into something divine, something raw. Oaxaca, with its perfect mix of altitude and climate, is the kind of place that gives birth to stories. Some of them whispered, some of them howled across generations—and the use of these mushrooms is one of those stories, etched deep into the land itself.
A Long History of the Sacred Mushroom
The region has long been home to a number of indigenous peoples, from the Zapotecs to the Mixtecs, all of whom have used psilocybin mushrooms in a way that feels almost elemental. “Teonanácatl” meaning “god’s flesh” in Nahuatl; was never just a psychedelic trip. It was a bridge to something beyond the ordinary. The climate, the land, the atmosphere—everything in Oaxaca aligns to make it the perfect setting for these practices to thrive. For thousands of years, psilocybin mushrooms have been more than a tool; they’ve been a connection to the spiritual, the divine, the hidden truths of the universe.
The Sacred Rituals: More Than Just a Trip
These mushrooms weren’t some casual indulgence for the indigenous shamans and healers. They were serious business. To ingest these mushrooms was to open the door to the unknown, to step into a world where the boundaries between the living and the divine blurred. Shamans, those spiritual gatekeepers, would consume the mushrooms, not for fun, but to gain access to the wisdom of ancestors, to commune with spirits, to heal the body and soul. These mushrooms weren’t about escaping reality; they were about getting closer to it, to the essence of being, to understanding the mysteries of life itself.
Take Maria Sabina, for example—a Mazatec healer whose ceremonies became legendary. She didn’t just eat mushrooms for a spiritual high; she used them to reach a higher state, to converse with the divine in a way few could ever claim to understand. Her ceremonies were an art—a delicate, sacred ritual where the line between this world and the next would dissolve into a haze of visions and revelations. Sabina wasn’t just a healer; she was a conduit, a bridge between two realities. People traveled from all corners of the globe to witness her work, to experience firsthand the raw power of these sacred fungi.
The West Gets a Taste of the Magic
It wasn’t until the 1950s that the Western world caught wind of Oaxaca’s mushroom magic, courtesy of American banker-turned-ethnobotanist R. Gordon Wasson. In 1955, Wasson and his wife, Valentina, ventured to Oaxaca, participating in one of Maria Sabina’s ceremonies. The experience left him mesmerized, shaken to his core. What followed was a groundbreaking article in Life Magazine in 1957, titled “Seeking the Magic Mushroom,” that introduced psilocybin to the Western world. Suddenly, the sacred rituals of Oaxaca weren’t just some obscure tradition—they were the gateway to a global psychedelic movement. And the world, it seemed, was ready to listen.
For Oaxaca, psilocybin mushrooms weren’t just an ancient custom; they were a testament to something greater, something primal. The journey of these mushrooms from the misty mountains of Mexico to the counterculture of the West is one hell of a story—and it’s still unfolding.
Enter Psilocybe Subtropicalis
Psilocybe subtropicalis, a humble yet fascinating member of the psilocybin mushroom family, carries an enigmatic past, one that’s been pieced together over decades of research. Originally named Psilocybe semperviva—Latin for ‘Forever Alive’—a name that didn’t just reflect its quiet endurance in the world of mycology, but carried a deeper meaning. It was a name tied to the land, meant to resonate with the local peoples and their traditions, honoring the mushroom’s role in their rituals and the timeless connection between them.
Ps. Subtropicalis Semperviva
The Taxonomic Journey: From Semperviva to Subtropicalis
The first significant chapter in the story of Psilocybe subtropicalis was written in 1958, when mycologists Roger Heim and Roger Cailleux identified a species they dubbed Psilocybe semperviva. Decades later, in 1983, the esteemed Gastón Guzmán—an absolute legend in the psilocybin world—gave the mushroom another pass, classifying it as Psilocybe hoogshagenii var. convexa & Psilocybe semperviva. But this is where the plot thickens. Thanks to DNA analysis that redefined what we thought we knew about mushroom genetics, it became clear that these names all referred to the same mushroom. By 1995, Guzmán reclassified the mushroom as Psilocybe subtropicalis, sealing its place as a unique species within the genus.
Psilocybe Subtropicalis vs. Psilocybe Hoogshagenii
The relationship between Psilocybe subtropicalis and Psilocybe hoogshagenii is one of those tangled messes that’ll make your head spin if you’re not careful. It’s one of those stories where names are thrown around like confetti at a parade, leaving you trying to figure out who’s who. Early on, Gordan Wasson and Roger Heim had both Psilocybe semperviva and Psilocybe hoogshagenii var. convexa sitting side by side, described in ways that made it easy for them to get crossed in the shuffle. Eventually, both were wrapped up under the same umbrella, reclassified as Psilocybe subtropicalis.
Psilocybe Subtropicalis Image by Alan Rockefeller
Psilocybe Hogshagenii Image by Alan Rockefeller
But let’s not make the rookie mistake of confusing this with Psilocybe hoogshagenii, which is part of the Section Mexicanae—that’s a whole different ballgame.
It’s one of those cases where the two species seem to run parallel, but finding solid info on how they compare? It’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Not much out there to connect the dots. But I’ve done my best to piece together what’s known, so we can start untangling this mess; at least for the non-professional taxonomy crowd that might stumble into less-than-complete information.
The Taxonomic Journey: A Timeline of Madness
1958: Roger Heim, the French mycologist with an eye for obscure mushrooms, names Psilocybe hoogshagenii, a nod to American anthropologist Searle Hoogshagen, who helped track down those sacred mushrooms in Mexico.
1958: In the same year, Heim and Roger Cailleux also describe Psilocybe semperviva—but don’t worry, it’s all coming together.
1958: Life magazine publishes Gordon Wasson’s iconic article “Seeking the Magic Mushroom.”
1983: Gastón Guzmán dips into the chaos, describing Psilocybe hoogshagenii var. convexa and reclassifying Psilocybe semperviva as synonymous with Psilocybe subtropicalis.
1996: Paul Stamets publishes Psilocybin Mushrooms of the World, suggesting that Psilocybe subtropicalis and Psilocybe hoogshagenii could be the same species.
2019: Alan Rockefeller runs an ITS sequence on Psilocybe subtropicalis, placing it in the Section Zapotecorum.
2019: Alan Rockefeller also runs a DNA sequence on Psilocybe hoogshagenii and places it in the Section Mexicanae.
Conclusion: The Ongoing Journey of Psilocybe Subtropicalis
As the centuries roll on, the sacred mushrooms of Oaxaca continue to hold their ground in both ancient ritual and modern mycology. From the misty mountains of Southern Mexico to the global reach of psilocybin’s newfound interest, these fungi’s journey is far from over. Psilocybe subtropicalis, once a quiet and overlooked species, now stands as a testament to the intricate dance between tradition and science.
Though its name and place in the scientific world have evolved over time, its connection to the land, its people, and the mysteries of the universe remains constant. From the shamanic rituals of Maria Sabina to the scientific endeavors of modern researchers like Alan Rockefeller, these mushrooms continue to serve as a bridge between ancient knowledge and contemporary exploration.
The rich biodiversity and complex ecosystems of Oaxaca’s highlands remain a fertile ground where ancient wisdom and modern science converge. With every new discovery, another layer of mystery unfolds—waiting for the next researcher or curious mind to uncover its secrets. As we look to the future, one thing remains clear: the world of psilocybin mushrooms, much like the land that nurtures them, is filled with stories that are still waiting to be written.