Fisherman, Hunter, Photographer, Traveling Salesman - some pursuits require you to wake up long before the sun has risen and other normal mortals have settled into their first cup of coffee. This was certainly true for me as I tip toed through my house at 4:30 am, hoping desperately to not awaken my sleeping children. Success. I managed to slip out without leaving my wife with a couple of irate little ones to rouse her from her slumber. Which of course means that I'll get to do this again next weekend.
The drive to the parking area was relatively quick and pleasant with coffee in hand and Goldfrapp teasing easy music out of my truck's speakers. As this was my first time to the Wildlife Area (WA), I took a moment to look around the parking area. A few piles of glass from shattered car windows and a note to myself to make sure my truck is empty before parking here again.
Most reports on the internet indicate that hunters here tend to work their way up the creek channel. This highlights a common problem - not doing your homework. Cold Canyon Creek winds its way up through Stebbins Cold Canyon Reserve, a parcel of land owned by the University of California at Davis, and it's very much off limits to hunters. So after crossing the street, I started up a trail on the left that leads to a summit and connects to a ridgeline that rings much of the WA.
The summit is easily attained, though not without a little huffing and puffing along the way. Instead of working my way around the ridgeline and glassing the area, I chose to come back down the hillside about half way and start working my way cross country. Most people prefer to glass a new area first, but I like getting up close and personal on my first time out.
It was rough going as the oat covered hillside was steep with loose soil. I stopped frequently to examine various sets of tracks and to listen to the sounds of the woods around me. There was plenty of game, with quail fluttering about and large groups of doves cooing and dancing in the tree tops above. At one point I sat not 50 yards out from a doe and her two fawns and watched them forage around at the base of a blue oak.
But alass, there were no signs of pig. However I had only edged my way into the WA in the few hours I was there, so I've not lost hope at all. This is prime pig country. Directly accross the highway and Putah Creek lies Bobcat Ranch, made famous in recent years by the special boar hunts held here through the DFG's SHARE program. And not too long ago an accident was caused nearby as a driver swerved to avoid hitting a boar that was crossing the highway. Prime country indeed.
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