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Warden Wally Callan in the ghost town of Newville, California, circa 1962. Photo by Steven T. Callan.

December 2, 2016

Game Wardens and Ghost Towns

Warden Wally Callan in the ghost town of Newville, circa 1962. Photo by author.

Out of beer and three sheets to the wind, the three deer poachers turned west on Newville Road and headed northeast toward Paskenta. Rounding the first bend, they passed the ghost town of Newville. Newville had thrived from the early 1850s until 1929, when all but a few buildings burned to the ground. During its heyday, the little pioneer town boasted a general store, two livery stables, two saloons, a blacksmith shop, two hotels, a post office, a race track, and a service station. Now only the ramshackle, two-story Newville Hotel and the falling-down service station remained.

Pintails mingle with white-fronted geese at the Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge. Photo by Steven T. Callan.

November 6, 2016

in Fish and Wildlife

by Steve

The Most Beautiful Duck in North America

Pintails mingle with white-fronted geese at the Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge. All photos by author.

Ask any waterfowl enthusiast to name the most beautiful duck in North America, and he or she will most likely point to the brilliant, multicolored, drake wood duck (Aix sponsa). Others might claim that the iridescent green head of a drake mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) is hard to beat. For me, the graceful pose of a drake pintail (Anas acuta), with its long, slender neck and chocolate-brown head, places this species at the top of the list.

Our front yard in early spring, showing just a few of the 200 blue oaks on the island. Photo by Steven T. Callan.

September 24, 2016

in Personal Stuff

by Steve

An Island of Our Own

Our front yard in early spring, showing just a few of the 200 blue oaks on the island. Photo by author.

Over the years, Kathy and I have often dreamed of escaping today’s fast-paced, hectic world and moving to an island of our own—an island of trees, flowers, and abundant wildlife, where we could experience the joys of nature without leaving the confines of our own property. Realizing that buying an island wasn’t a realistic option, we decided to do the next best thing and create one on our three-acre patch of oak woodland in the foothills of Northern California.

Scenes from a Book Signing: Lassen Volcanic National Park (Author Steven T. Callan)

September 20, 2016

in Appearances, Presentations, and Book Signings

by Steve

Scenes from a Book Signing: Lassen Volcanic National Park

Last Saturday, Kathy and I had the pleasure of doing a book signing at Lassen Volcanic National Park‘s Art and Wine Festival. We had a ball signing books and meeting a lot of wonderful people. Thank you to all who came.

Thank you, also, to Melanie Allen and the Lassen Association for inviting us. As passionate supporters of our national parks, Kathy and I are honored to have The Game Warden’s Son in the bookstores of the Lassen Park visitor centers.

Orland Free Library Welcomes Award-Winning Orland Author Steven T. Callan

September 4, 2016

in Personal Stuff

by Steve

Going Home

I’ve often said that the reason I enjoyed the old Andy Griffith Show so much was because I practically grew up there. Growing up in Orland was as close to living in Mayberry as you could get without being a member of the cast.

My family moved from the Los Angeles area to Orland, a small farming community at the northern end of California’s Sacramento Valley, in 1960. By the end of our first day in school, my brother Kenny and I felt as if we’d lived there all our lives. The following Saturday, we joined several of our new friends and walked the railroad tracks to Stony Creek, where I caught my first smallmouth bass and began a childhood adventure that would last until I left for college years later.

Steven T. Callan and Orland High School Class of '66 Classmates

August 12, 2016

in Personal Stuff

by Steve

Two Nights to Remember

I have to admit that I was more than a little apprehensive about my upcoming Orland High School class reunion. I hadn’t seen most of my classmates since we crossed the stage and received our diplomas on that fateful night fifty years ago. Would I recognize anyone? Would anyone recognize me? I sure hope they provide name tags.

The fish rescue crew: Mike Cauble, Paul Martens, Glenn Tibessart, unidentified gentleman, Steve Callan, and Kenny Callan, circa 1964. As the Orland Fish and Game warden, my father, Wally Callan, had organized this effort to rescue stranded fish in Stony Creek.

July 31, 2016

in Book Excerpts and News

by Steve

The Road to Plaskett Meadows

The fish rescue crew: Mike Cauble, Paul Martens, Glenn Tibessart, unidentified gentleman, Steve Callan, and Kenny Callan, circa 1964. As the Orland Fish and Game warden, my father had organized this effort to rescue stranded fish in Stony Creek. What fun we had!

Writing the chapter “The Road to Plaskett Meadows” in my sequel, The Game Warden’s Son, was a trip down Memory Lane for me. In it, I described growing up in Orland during the 1960s.

A wonderful slice of small-town America at the northern end of California’s Central Valley, Orland was very much like the community of Mayberry in the old Andy Griffith Show. I remember our mayor being the town butcher, people parking in the middle of 4th Street, and Cary Tommeraason running for touchdowns. Mom bought groceries at Graham Brothers, the playground at Fairview School was a converted cow pasture, and the biggest event of the year was opening day of pheasant season.

My greatest fear in those days was being called on in Mr. Valov’s chemistry class. My greatest joys were baseball, basketball, hunting, fishing, exploring Stony Creek, and riding on patrol with my dad, the local game warden.

Blog

Game Wardens and Ghost Towns

The Most Beautiful Duck in North America

An Island of Our Own

Scenes from a Book Signing: Lassen Volcanic National Park

Going Home

Two Nights to Remember

The Road to Plaskett Meadows

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