Post by Deleted on Mar 5, 2017 21:55:05 GMT -4
ED, ME & JOHNNY STEWART
I got the inspiration for this story watching a varmit hunt'in (predator nowdays) program on the Sportsman's Channel recently. The scenes of open sagebrush country & hunt'in for predators using Johnny Stewart calls brought back memories that seemed as real as yesterday. I had to write this & give credit where credit is due.
It occurred in 1965 or '66 after finishing my 3 year tour w/the Army in 1964. I was still adjusting to married life as I had gotten married while in the Army in 1961. We set up residence in the town of South San Gabriel in the Greater Los Angeles area while I returned to civilian life as a college student at what was then called California State College Los Angeles. Jane & I lived on a quiet street of older homes. The driveway led to three rentals (ours being the second one down the driveway). The front rental had its own garage while the back two shared a two car garage.
Sharing a garage meant it was necessary to get to know our neighbors quickly. “The neighbors” were a young couple w/their first child. Ed worked for the county as part of the enforcement portion of the welfare department. Ed & me hit it off right away. He liked firearms, marksmanship, & hunting so we had a lot in common. All week long Ed worked the night shift making sure that welfare fraud was kept under control in LA County. During the day, I rode my Honda to CSCLA to continue my studies towards being an Industrial Arts/Vocational Shop teacher in the high schools of California. The weekends meant downtime for all of us, often over a driveway BBQ. I marveled at Ed's skill at reloading ammo for his 25-06 in “our” garage. I had no idea that I would wait 48 years before I would take up reloading myself. It wasn't long before we were planning a hunt'in trip together!
It didn't take much for Ed to talk me into going “varmit hunt'in” one weekend. Up until then, my only experience varmit hunt'in was to drive out over the Cajon Pass to Victorville to hunt jack rabbits w/shotgun or 22 rifle. My calling experience was limited to simulating a rabbit distress call by sucking through my fingers as learned by reading the classic bowhunting book, “Hunting With The Bow & Arrow” by Saxon Pope. I used to set up in a sagebrush & call until rabbits would appear out of the brush. Once I was thrilled by calling in a bobcat but, in my excitement, couldn't find him in my old 6X scope in time to take a shot. This took place in 1959/60. In 1961-64 things happened fast. I learned to shoot the M-1, M-14 & got married. I also lived for a year in Korea. Now, over 50 years later, I still think I should have gotten college credit for all that I learned in those 3 short years of life.
Well, back to the hunt. We packed up Ed's fairly new Chevy ½ ton's camper Friday afternoon & headed East to the wilds of Riverside & Hemet. The “3 on the tree” gear shift & trusty Chevy 6 cyl pulled us down I-10 as the sun set. We arrived in Hemet well after my bedtime. Listening to Ed's stories, I knew he was experienced in varmit hunt'in & that he had an “in” w/a landowner in Hemet. I was excited. He packed his 25-06 & I took my Mossberg “Chuckster” in 22 WMR.
As we cruised down the “San Berdoo Freeway”, Ed began to share his experiences on the landowner's property. I was tired but as his stories unfolded, my eyes got wider & wider. Seems that his “friend” was a real (shall I say) unique individual. First of all, he supported himself by grazing the local markets (dumpster diving). He had an ample supply of outdated meat, bread, & veggies which he graciously offered to share w/us. We tried to be just as gracious in saying that we had more provisions already than we could handle. He also had a shoestring cattle operation going. Somehow he got calves from the local ranches that the ranchers were unable to dispose of by the livestock auction. These calves were on their own. It was definitely “sink or swim” on his scrub/sagebrush property as evidenced by walking skeletons & also dead skeleton calves littering the land. It was easy to spot the calves as they were marked by the vultures that lived on the property. The two outstanding factors that interested me was his automobile “collection” & his “environmental energy system”.
All over the property were automobiles that dated from the 1930s to the early 60's. Whenever an automobile was abandoned along a country road, the landowner took it upon himself to tow it home & use it for parts. I marveled at this as I was studying to become a high school auto mechanics teacher & really appreciated the impromptu museum that was there. The energy system was something else! I did not understand it at all. He was what we call today “off the grid” but he still had electrical power w/o a generator! Southern California Edison had towers & power lines that traversed his property. I know that these power lines must have conducted very high voltage but somehow this character found a way to draw electrical power to his “home”. He must have developed this system by trial & error but how he kept from being cooked is beyond me. He ran out cables of wire under these buzzing power lines. I guess through induction these magnetic AC fields caused current to flow in his ground-mounted wires. Ed cautioned me not to trip over the random array of electrical cables on the ground, emanating from his house. All I know is that he had freezers working outside his house & lights glowing inside. No electrical meter to read & no power bills. I really can't believe it unless he had an illegal hookup somewhere.
Well, it was early in the AM when we arrived at the “ranch”. Ed said it was OK to setup & start hunt'in & that we would meet up w/the landowner tomorrow. We started to traverse a freshly plowed field. About 0230, in the middle of the field, the Chevy pickup got stuck in the soft earth. Ed than muttered that driving across the landowner's field was one of the few “No-Nos” that he had been given. “Great!” I said (I could see my carcass strung up on a barb wire fence to entertain the vultures). Ed then gave me a lesson on how to get a non-posi vehicle unstuck. He pulled back on the E-brake to provide traction to both rear axles. W/smoking rear brakes shoes, we walked out of that hole & off the plowed field. By the time we got where Ed wanted to hunt, we were too tuckered to hunt so we hit the sack. The next AM we spent time w/the “rancher ?” & I absorbed the knowledge & wonder that I have already laid on you in the preceding paragraphs.
The next night it was time to hunt! We parked the truck & walked to a spot about 30 yds away. Ed then strung what looked like TA-1 wire which is Armyspeak for field telephone wire. He connected one end of each of the two wires to the 12V truck battery. He then ran the wire to the box he had me carry to the clearing where we would spend the night hunt'in/sleeping. Inside the box was a contraption that was old even back then. It was an old 45 RPM record player. Somehow Ed had adapted it to run on 12V! He then grinned & produced a couple of Johnny Stewart 45 RPM records that were varmit calls (I kid you not). He gave me a short “mission briefing” on what hopefully would transpire.
We seated ourselves in the dark clearing, back-to-back so we could cover all sectors of fire. The moon was fairly bright as I recall. He did mention that varmit calls called in all kinds of varmits which would include even bobcats & mountain lions. This statement kinda got me wide awake & wondering if I had made a mistake hooking up w/this guy. It wasn't until a few years ago that operating a fawn distress call in the woods of Washington State that I began to realize just what could happen, especially when you are by yourself.
The sky was fairly clear and the moonlight illuminated the ground as it shone over my shoulder. Ed also had a spotlight that he used occasionally when he thought he heard something. I was surprised how may sets of eyes could be seen as Ed panned the brush w/the spotlight. During all this time the Johnny Stewart call was blasting forth w/blood-curdling screams & howls. It sounded like a poor rabbit was slowly being torn apart by some fierce animal. The more I sat there, the more I felt like a chunk of bait instead of the aggressor in this situation. No longer did I feel drowsy from the short night's sleep. The thought of a predator coming in to the call expecting to kill & eat something had me quite alert. Ed said he was working on improving the setup soon by adding remote speakers that he somehow had obtained (they were from a drive-in movie theater). I thought of suggesting to Ed that I move away from him & the call to cover his flank where he didn't have a clear view. Somehow though the idea of sitting out there w/o Ed covering my back & w/o a spotlight didn't seem like such a good idea either.
Well, Johnny Stewart had the magic as we began to hear more & more activity in the brush all around us & the beam from Ed's spotlight found several pairs of eyes. I didn't think it was a wise hunting tactic to keep flashing the light (maybe Ed was getting a little spooked too) but having the light kinda reassured me. Every so often Ed would whisper “see those eyes! Its something big! Bet its a cat!”. I kept finding myself checking & rechecking the safety on my rifle & wondering how varmit hunters empty their bladder w/o blowing their cover.
I began to realize (or did I just sense it?) that this activity would continue until it reached some sort of climax. Every once in a while my thoughts would flash back to the landowner standing there in his filthy bib overalls w/a grin on his face as he was offering us a chunk of slightly discolored roast beef. I would then look over at my excited hunting partner/neighbor who I was seeing in a new light & began to wonder just what I had gotten myself into. Well, the “climax” did come but in a way I never expected.
There was a slight lull from the speaker & the calls were coming a little slower & softer for the moment. Ed was peering into the darkness, sitting still as a stone. The spotlight rested in his lap ready for use. One hand was grasping his rifle. Without a sound the moonlight on the ground all around me was replaced by a large shadow. The edges of the shadow were moving but the shadow continued to blanket me. I gasped in some air expecting to feel claws & fangs sink into the back of my neck at any moment. I froze, my eyes darted over to see Ed's reaction. Nothing! He was looking the other way & wasn't aware of what was happening. I wanted to jump up & run but my body wouldn't move! What ever was making the moving shadow remained right over me....That's it! Over me! I got the courage to tilt my head back & look straight up. Three feet above me my eyes met the eyes of a huge Horned Owl who was hovering above me. As soon as our eyes met the owl, without the slightest sound, stopped hovering & flew off. I began breathing again by taking a couple loud gasps. Ed turned around w/a questioning look on his face. He had missed it all.
Looking back it was a cool experience but at the time cool wasn't the word I would've used to describe it. That was a long time ago & I haven't done any night varmit calling since then. If I ever decide to try it again I would check w/some outfitter like Cabelas or Primos to see if they market any predator hunter undergarments. Maybe Mossyoak Depends.
I got the inspiration for this story watching a varmit hunt'in (predator nowdays) program on the Sportsman's Channel recently. The scenes of open sagebrush country & hunt'in for predators using Johnny Stewart calls brought back memories that seemed as real as yesterday. I had to write this & give credit where credit is due.
It occurred in 1965 or '66 after finishing my 3 year tour w/the Army in 1964. I was still adjusting to married life as I had gotten married while in the Army in 1961. We set up residence in the town of South San Gabriel in the Greater Los Angeles area while I returned to civilian life as a college student at what was then called California State College Los Angeles. Jane & I lived on a quiet street of older homes. The driveway led to three rentals (ours being the second one down the driveway). The front rental had its own garage while the back two shared a two car garage.
Sharing a garage meant it was necessary to get to know our neighbors quickly. “The neighbors” were a young couple w/their first child. Ed worked for the county as part of the enforcement portion of the welfare department. Ed & me hit it off right away. He liked firearms, marksmanship, & hunting so we had a lot in common. All week long Ed worked the night shift making sure that welfare fraud was kept under control in LA County. During the day, I rode my Honda to CSCLA to continue my studies towards being an Industrial Arts/Vocational Shop teacher in the high schools of California. The weekends meant downtime for all of us, often over a driveway BBQ. I marveled at Ed's skill at reloading ammo for his 25-06 in “our” garage. I had no idea that I would wait 48 years before I would take up reloading myself. It wasn't long before we were planning a hunt'in trip together!
It didn't take much for Ed to talk me into going “varmit hunt'in” one weekend. Up until then, my only experience varmit hunt'in was to drive out over the Cajon Pass to Victorville to hunt jack rabbits w/shotgun or 22 rifle. My calling experience was limited to simulating a rabbit distress call by sucking through my fingers as learned by reading the classic bowhunting book, “Hunting With The Bow & Arrow” by Saxon Pope. I used to set up in a sagebrush & call until rabbits would appear out of the brush. Once I was thrilled by calling in a bobcat but, in my excitement, couldn't find him in my old 6X scope in time to take a shot. This took place in 1959/60. In 1961-64 things happened fast. I learned to shoot the M-1, M-14 & got married. I also lived for a year in Korea. Now, over 50 years later, I still think I should have gotten college credit for all that I learned in those 3 short years of life.
Well, back to the hunt. We packed up Ed's fairly new Chevy ½ ton's camper Friday afternoon & headed East to the wilds of Riverside & Hemet. The “3 on the tree” gear shift & trusty Chevy 6 cyl pulled us down I-10 as the sun set. We arrived in Hemet well after my bedtime. Listening to Ed's stories, I knew he was experienced in varmit hunt'in & that he had an “in” w/a landowner in Hemet. I was excited. He packed his 25-06 & I took my Mossberg “Chuckster” in 22 WMR.
As we cruised down the “San Berdoo Freeway”, Ed began to share his experiences on the landowner's property. I was tired but as his stories unfolded, my eyes got wider & wider. Seems that his “friend” was a real (shall I say) unique individual. First of all, he supported himself by grazing the local markets (dumpster diving). He had an ample supply of outdated meat, bread, & veggies which he graciously offered to share w/us. We tried to be just as gracious in saying that we had more provisions already than we could handle. He also had a shoestring cattle operation going. Somehow he got calves from the local ranches that the ranchers were unable to dispose of by the livestock auction. These calves were on their own. It was definitely “sink or swim” on his scrub/sagebrush property as evidenced by walking skeletons & also dead skeleton calves littering the land. It was easy to spot the calves as they were marked by the vultures that lived on the property. The two outstanding factors that interested me was his automobile “collection” & his “environmental energy system”.
All over the property were automobiles that dated from the 1930s to the early 60's. Whenever an automobile was abandoned along a country road, the landowner took it upon himself to tow it home & use it for parts. I marveled at this as I was studying to become a high school auto mechanics teacher & really appreciated the impromptu museum that was there. The energy system was something else! I did not understand it at all. He was what we call today “off the grid” but he still had electrical power w/o a generator! Southern California Edison had towers & power lines that traversed his property. I know that these power lines must have conducted very high voltage but somehow this character found a way to draw electrical power to his “home”. He must have developed this system by trial & error but how he kept from being cooked is beyond me. He ran out cables of wire under these buzzing power lines. I guess through induction these magnetic AC fields caused current to flow in his ground-mounted wires. Ed cautioned me not to trip over the random array of electrical cables on the ground, emanating from his house. All I know is that he had freezers working outside his house & lights glowing inside. No electrical meter to read & no power bills. I really can't believe it unless he had an illegal hookup somewhere.
Well, it was early in the AM when we arrived at the “ranch”. Ed said it was OK to setup & start hunt'in & that we would meet up w/the landowner tomorrow. We started to traverse a freshly plowed field. About 0230, in the middle of the field, the Chevy pickup got stuck in the soft earth. Ed than muttered that driving across the landowner's field was one of the few “No-Nos” that he had been given. “Great!” I said (I could see my carcass strung up on a barb wire fence to entertain the vultures). Ed then gave me a lesson on how to get a non-posi vehicle unstuck. He pulled back on the E-brake to provide traction to both rear axles. W/smoking rear brakes shoes, we walked out of that hole & off the plowed field. By the time we got where Ed wanted to hunt, we were too tuckered to hunt so we hit the sack. The next AM we spent time w/the “rancher ?” & I absorbed the knowledge & wonder that I have already laid on you in the preceding paragraphs.
The next night it was time to hunt! We parked the truck & walked to a spot about 30 yds away. Ed then strung what looked like TA-1 wire which is Armyspeak for field telephone wire. He connected one end of each of the two wires to the 12V truck battery. He then ran the wire to the box he had me carry to the clearing where we would spend the night hunt'in/sleeping. Inside the box was a contraption that was old even back then. It was an old 45 RPM record player. Somehow Ed had adapted it to run on 12V! He then grinned & produced a couple of Johnny Stewart 45 RPM records that were varmit calls (I kid you not). He gave me a short “mission briefing” on what hopefully would transpire.
We seated ourselves in the dark clearing, back-to-back so we could cover all sectors of fire. The moon was fairly bright as I recall. He did mention that varmit calls called in all kinds of varmits which would include even bobcats & mountain lions. This statement kinda got me wide awake & wondering if I had made a mistake hooking up w/this guy. It wasn't until a few years ago that operating a fawn distress call in the woods of Washington State that I began to realize just what could happen, especially when you are by yourself.
The sky was fairly clear and the moonlight illuminated the ground as it shone over my shoulder. Ed also had a spotlight that he used occasionally when he thought he heard something. I was surprised how may sets of eyes could be seen as Ed panned the brush w/the spotlight. During all this time the Johnny Stewart call was blasting forth w/blood-curdling screams & howls. It sounded like a poor rabbit was slowly being torn apart by some fierce animal. The more I sat there, the more I felt like a chunk of bait instead of the aggressor in this situation. No longer did I feel drowsy from the short night's sleep. The thought of a predator coming in to the call expecting to kill & eat something had me quite alert. Ed said he was working on improving the setup soon by adding remote speakers that he somehow had obtained (they were from a drive-in movie theater). I thought of suggesting to Ed that I move away from him & the call to cover his flank where he didn't have a clear view. Somehow though the idea of sitting out there w/o Ed covering my back & w/o a spotlight didn't seem like such a good idea either.
Well, Johnny Stewart had the magic as we began to hear more & more activity in the brush all around us & the beam from Ed's spotlight found several pairs of eyes. I didn't think it was a wise hunting tactic to keep flashing the light (maybe Ed was getting a little spooked too) but having the light kinda reassured me. Every so often Ed would whisper “see those eyes! Its something big! Bet its a cat!”. I kept finding myself checking & rechecking the safety on my rifle & wondering how varmit hunters empty their bladder w/o blowing their cover.
I began to realize (or did I just sense it?) that this activity would continue until it reached some sort of climax. Every once in a while my thoughts would flash back to the landowner standing there in his filthy bib overalls w/a grin on his face as he was offering us a chunk of slightly discolored roast beef. I would then look over at my excited hunting partner/neighbor who I was seeing in a new light & began to wonder just what I had gotten myself into. Well, the “climax” did come but in a way I never expected.
There was a slight lull from the speaker & the calls were coming a little slower & softer for the moment. Ed was peering into the darkness, sitting still as a stone. The spotlight rested in his lap ready for use. One hand was grasping his rifle. Without a sound the moonlight on the ground all around me was replaced by a large shadow. The edges of the shadow were moving but the shadow continued to blanket me. I gasped in some air expecting to feel claws & fangs sink into the back of my neck at any moment. I froze, my eyes darted over to see Ed's reaction. Nothing! He was looking the other way & wasn't aware of what was happening. I wanted to jump up & run but my body wouldn't move! What ever was making the moving shadow remained right over me....That's it! Over me! I got the courage to tilt my head back & look straight up. Three feet above me my eyes met the eyes of a huge Horned Owl who was hovering above me. As soon as our eyes met the owl, without the slightest sound, stopped hovering & flew off. I began breathing again by taking a couple loud gasps. Ed turned around w/a questioning look on his face. He had missed it all.
Looking back it was a cool experience but at the time cool wasn't the word I would've used to describe it. That was a long time ago & I haven't done any night varmit calling since then. If I ever decide to try it again I would check w/some outfitter like Cabelas or Primos to see if they market any predator hunter undergarments. Maybe Mossyoak Depends.