We lived in the middle of an area that was rich with wild life and which sat in the path of frequent wildfires. In the short time-14 years-that we lived in the mountains, on the mining claim, there were three major wildfires that swept down from Julian, down the Banner Grade, on down Highway 78 to the desert, and up the Chariot Canyon. We were surrounded by the fire twice and one time had to drive 2 miles through the fire to reach our millsite. The fire department let Bruce go up the road, even though there was a wall of fire on both sides of the road, because they knew he was crazy enough to go through when they were not watching closely anyway. Besides, the helicopters had reported that the fire was not threatening the exact area where we lived. So we started up that road with burning trees and bushes all around us and sudden flare-ups where we could see nothing but flames. The area looked like pictures of Hell and I prayed so hard that we would make it home safely. We did, and Bruce acted as if the fire was nothing (of course he had been a fireman for the California Forestry Department for 20 years of his life) and we went about getting dinner and getting ready for bed all the time watching the red glow of the fire creeping up the mountain towards us. I slept lightly that night because the window in our bedroom faced the approaching fire and I was scared out of my wits. There was no retreat possible now, we had to live with our decision, but I finally fell asleep in the middle of a prayer. When we woke up, the children got ready for school and we loaded back up in the truck and started back down the mountain to the Banner Store. The fire was about 85% contained, but there were pockets of embers still smoldering all over. The fire had come within 1/4 mile of our millsite and all around us were blackened stumps of trees and the occasional burning bush. We said a litany of prayers as we inched down the dirt road, thanking God for sparing our lives and our home.
Within a week, there was green sprouting everywhere and wildflowers that had not bloomed in years came out and began to cover the hills. It was an awesome sight watching nature repair herself.
The animals came out from where they had been hiding, and of course their population had been decimated, but it never seemed to bother the rattlesnakes which were now simply easier to see.
Bruce hated rattlesnakes and sidewinders. We would be driving down a road and Bruce would spot a rattlesnake lying by the side of the road-doing nobody any harm. He would stop the truck, take out his six-shooters and begin shooting at the defenseless snake. He would usually have to do a jig-dance to keep out of the way of the snake's striking range, because rattlesnakes are aggressive and when threatened they rattle their rattles and prepare to strike anything within their zone. Bruce was an excellent shot and it was all over in about three minutes and Bruce always triumphed. I was always praying for the snake because it was essentially helpless against a shooting giant. Bruce would cut off the snake's rattles and save them for his collection; cut off the head and throw it into the bushes far away from the road; and then turn the snake upside down and put rocks on the body to hold it upside down. His theory was that there was an Indian rumor that if you killed a rattler and turned his body upside down, it would bring big thunderstorms to the area. Only saw that theory work once-and maybe it wasn't because of the dead snake at all.
We were blessed with all manner of animals in the mountains; raccoon, possum, skunks and civet cats, rats, moths, bats, birds of all description and song, bobcats, coyotes, mountain lions, reptiles and amphibians, rabbits, hawks, golden eagles, wild turkeys (which taste delicious), and deer. None of them had been exposed to humans before and so had no fear initially. There was a deer path that was right in front of the outhouse door and it was wonderful to see a deer and her fawns coming down the draw to go to the creek. Bunnies would hop by and stop and peek inside of the outhouse...as did skunks and racoons; it was often a real experience just going up to the restroom.
One morning, very early, the sun just peeking over the hills, I got up to trek to the outhouse. It had been snowing and the path to the outhouse was icy and up a steep slant, so you had to travel very slowly and carefully. I glanced up from looking at the ground because I felt a presence close to me. There, across the driveway, was standing a mother mountain lion. A mother because her teats were heavy. I stood up straight and looked the mountain lion right into her eyes. I began to pray and remained absolutely motionless. We locked eyes for what seemed like five minutes but was probably a few seconds. Then the mountain lion slowly turned around and walked off back up the mountain. I stood still for a long time, shaking from the near encounter with death, and then went up to the outhouse as originally planned.
One night we were all in bed asleep when we heard the loudest banging in the kitchen. Bruce insisted that the back door be left open at night so that his cats and kittens could go outside to use the "sandbox." Think of the logic of that...if cats could go outside, then other animals and people could come on in also. Anyway, we both grabbed our flashlights and walked slowly into the kitchen and just as we got to the doorway, a big bobcat ran between our legs and out the back door. He had been eating the cat's food, and the kitchen was pretty much a mess.
Once we were sitting in the living room relaxing, when we kept hearing a Bang! Bang! on the front porch. Bruce jumped up and drew his weapon and then ventured out on the porch, but there was nothing to see, only the same old chairs and the barbecue with its lid closed. Bruce came back inside and sat down, but immediately the banging began again. He returned to the porch and sat down and waited for the noise to start again. When it started up again, Bruce noticed that the barbecue was shaking. He knew that something was alive and very angry inside of the barbecue. He went and got a long board and then, using the board, he slowly opened the lid of the barbecue. Out jumped a huge old raccoon, spitting and "mumbling" under its breath. It took off like a shot and we realized that we had cooked steaks last night and that someone had accidentally closed the cover without ever seeing the raccoon inside. The poor animal had been trapped for hours-overnight. It must have been so frightening for him, but at least he had had a good dinner.
We were blessed living in the canyon because we witnessed things that not many people have ever seen in person. There were other visitors that we had in the canyon; human visitors struggling to come into the freedom and opportunity of America. Tomorrow we will tell the story of a particularly close experience we had on one Christmas Eve.
Within a week, there was green sprouting everywhere and wildflowers that had not bloomed in years came out and began to cover the hills. It was an awesome sight watching nature repair herself.
The animals came out from where they had been hiding, and of course their population had been decimated, but it never seemed to bother the rattlesnakes which were now simply easier to see.
Bruce hated rattlesnakes and sidewinders. We would be driving down a road and Bruce would spot a rattlesnake lying by the side of the road-doing nobody any harm. He would stop the truck, take out his six-shooters and begin shooting at the defenseless snake. He would usually have to do a jig-dance to keep out of the way of the snake's striking range, because rattlesnakes are aggressive and when threatened they rattle their rattles and prepare to strike anything within their zone. Bruce was an excellent shot and it was all over in about three minutes and Bruce always triumphed. I was always praying for the snake because it was essentially helpless against a shooting giant. Bruce would cut off the snake's rattles and save them for his collection; cut off the head and throw it into the bushes far away from the road; and then turn the snake upside down and put rocks on the body to hold it upside down. His theory was that there was an Indian rumor that if you killed a rattler and turned his body upside down, it would bring big thunderstorms to the area. Only saw that theory work once-and maybe it wasn't because of the dead snake at all.
We were blessed with all manner of animals in the mountains; raccoon, possum, skunks and civet cats, rats, moths, bats, birds of all description and song, bobcats, coyotes, mountain lions, reptiles and amphibians, rabbits, hawks, golden eagles, wild turkeys (which taste delicious), and deer. None of them had been exposed to humans before and so had no fear initially. There was a deer path that was right in front of the outhouse door and it was wonderful to see a deer and her fawns coming down the draw to go to the creek. Bunnies would hop by and stop and peek inside of the outhouse...as did skunks and racoons; it was often a real experience just going up to the restroom.
One morning, very early, the sun just peeking over the hills, I got up to trek to the outhouse. It had been snowing and the path to the outhouse was icy and up a steep slant, so you had to travel very slowly and carefully. I glanced up from looking at the ground because I felt a presence close to me. There, across the driveway, was standing a mother mountain lion. A mother because her teats were heavy. I stood up straight and looked the mountain lion right into her eyes. I began to pray and remained absolutely motionless. We locked eyes for what seemed like five minutes but was probably a few seconds. Then the mountain lion slowly turned around and walked off back up the mountain. I stood still for a long time, shaking from the near encounter with death, and then went up to the outhouse as originally planned.
One night we were all in bed asleep when we heard the loudest banging in the kitchen. Bruce insisted that the back door be left open at night so that his cats and kittens could go outside to use the "sandbox." Think of the logic of that...if cats could go outside, then other animals and people could come on in also. Anyway, we both grabbed our flashlights and walked slowly into the kitchen and just as we got to the doorway, a big bobcat ran between our legs and out the back door. He had been eating the cat's food, and the kitchen was pretty much a mess.
Once we were sitting in the living room relaxing, when we kept hearing a Bang! Bang! on the front porch. Bruce jumped up and drew his weapon and then ventured out on the porch, but there was nothing to see, only the same old chairs and the barbecue with its lid closed. Bruce came back inside and sat down, but immediately the banging began again. He returned to the porch and sat down and waited for the noise to start again. When it started up again, Bruce noticed that the barbecue was shaking. He knew that something was alive and very angry inside of the barbecue. He went and got a long board and then, using the board, he slowly opened the lid of the barbecue. Out jumped a huge old raccoon, spitting and "mumbling" under its breath. It took off like a shot and we realized that we had cooked steaks last night and that someone had accidentally closed the cover without ever seeing the raccoon inside. The poor animal had been trapped for hours-overnight. It must have been so frightening for him, but at least he had had a good dinner.
We were blessed living in the canyon because we witnessed things that not many people have ever seen in person. There were other visitors that we had in the canyon; human visitors struggling to come into the freedom and opportunity of America. Tomorrow we will tell the story of a particularly close experience we had on one Christmas Eve.
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