Birthplace: City, California, USA
Date of Birth: 00/00/00
Eric came into the Ranch as a young boy, following his father up and down the hills during hunting season. Unfortunately for us, that was about the only time we saw Eric, on opening weekend. It was a real pleasure to see both of them driving up Friday night before the season opened and drive off Sunday afternoon, knowing there would be four less bucks to worry about that year. To say Eric is a “chip off the old block” is an understatement. He has his father’s patience, quiet mannerism, and a charming smile. But all that being said, he can be a real pain in the ass at the poker table and a lethal killing machine out in the field.
Eric learned his hunting skills from the best, his dad. He’s as accurate with a bow as he is with a rifle. He can hunt, track and shoot with the best. I recall one afternoon he left the cabin with an old 32 caliber carbine that belonged to old man Calhound. It was older than dirt, open sights, and probably couldn’t shoot 50 yards accurately without adjusting for windage. Didn’t deter Eric one bit, he seen it as a challenge. He got a buck and I helped him drag it in because I was foolish enough to be watching from across the canyon and thinking, “No way in hell is that kid going to kill anything with that gun”.
Eric is a guy you want to have around when you need some help. We were all out hunting in the back corner one morning, when Donnie got his foot hung up in a hole and twisted his ankle. He was moaning in pain and said he couldn’t walk. I told him there was no way I could carry him out of that canyon, it was too steep for me. Along came Eric, who picked up Wright like a handbag and carried him out to the road. Thanks to Eric, Don is alive today because the rest of us were just going to leave him there. (We found out later that Don actually broke his ankle, but that’s another story).
What many don’t know, except those closest to him, is that there is a deliberately nasty side of Eric that surfaces when he pulls up a chair to the poker table. What appears to be a pleasant smile of ambivalence, is only a lure of deception to keep you off your guard. Eight guys sitting around the table in a game of Two-Low Guts, all check their hands to you, and you feel pretty good so you go in with your pair of Jacks. Everyone folds without hesitation until it gets to Eric; that’s when the performance begins. He begins hemming, hawing, jawing, questioning your integrity, all the time performing his verbal rectal exam on you as you sit there defenseless. Despite your honest endeavor to remind him you have never bought a hand, he throws in with his pair of tens as though he really had no other choice. He seldom says “thanks” afterwards, but just continues to prey mainly on Don or I throughout the night as we attempt to play legitimate hands. Heartless!
All this is to be expected, I suppose, from a guy who’ll climb Mt. Shasta by moonlight and whack bears with ‘thumper’ arrows just for fun. I’m just glad I didn’t break my ankle while we were skinny-dipping in the Big Butte River – that could have been an embarassing hip ride to the bank for both of us… or I’d a drowned. Let’s also not forget Eric, the famous hunt organizer who planned the “assault on Estudio Canyon” back about 10-15 years ago. Thirteen guys with pistols and clubs working the brush like an LAPD dragnet, yielded no deer and one scared little Portugee hunter that had wandered in from another ranch. Haven’t seen a deer, or a portugee, in that canyon since. Yep, multi-talented, multi-faceted and willing to call any poker hand… as long as it’s Billy’s or mine – one big bundle of love.
As I said, Eric is a guy you want around. He’s always doing whatever is needed without question, whether it’s cleaning up after dinner or hauling your deer (or buddy) from the back canyon. He’s a simple and kind man who enjoys the company of his friends and the beauty of the outdoors. He is an invaluable piece of our Ranch family we love and that has made our gathering worthwhile.
7/2007 Bill Jr. & Don
