Big Sur Bakery Cookbook - Michelle Wojtowicz [24]
This May was dramatic for reasons that had nothing to do with tourists: a mountain lion began stalking and attacking local dogs. One night, Wayne Hyland’s son Rowan’s mother watched as the lion grabbed their dog by the neck after she had let it out for the night and killed it. Several nights later, their second dog met the same fate. Now, when a wild animal starts attacking domestic ones, people in Big Sur start to get a little nervous. When a wild animal starts grabbing them twenty feet away from their owners, people get hysterical. They put out traps; they called the game warden. Parents became worried about letting their kids play outside—after all, a toddler would be easier prey than a golden retriever. Michelle stopped taking walks on the ranch at morning and nightfall, and eventually stopped altogether. Over the course of four months, the same mountain lion killed fifteen dogs.
All this played out just as the tourists started to flow. Ironically, they were attracted to the natural beauty of Big Sur at the same time that a part of Big Sur’s nature started eating our pets. Thank god, then, for Wayne Hyland. Wayne’s an essential part of our lives at the Bakery, helping with maintenance, taking us fishing, foraging for mushrooms—and he’s also an amazing hunter and outdoorsman. Even before Rowan’s second dog was eaten, Wayne took matters into his own hands. He tracked the lion, learning where it buried its prey and came back to feed. And then one night at midnight, as the fog rolled in off the ocean, he went out to hunt the lion. He could hear the sounds of it feeding as he approached—ripping muscle and tendon from bone—but he still snuck closer. He told us later that the lion knew he was there but was too engrossed in its meal to care.
It took only one shot. Wayne fired directly into the lion’s heart, killing it as it fed. That might sound heartless and cruel, but this lion had become a threat, not just to dogs, but to humans too. Wayne, who believes that people in general have moved too far away from nature, made the neighbors come and see the lion after he killed it, so that people could appreciate how large it was. He’d told us when he shot it that it was big enough to take out a grown man, and when people saw its carcass, it was clear that he was right. Life subsequently went back to normal—complaints about the busy roads, stress about covering all the Bakery’s shifts—but when we went home at night, we slept better than we had in weeks.
Photographs by Sara Remington
PROFILE: ERIC AND JASMINE/PORCH FARMERS
Photographs by Sara Remington
Microgreens grown:
Watercress, arugula, daikon, endive, pea shoots, basil, cilantro, radish, broccoli, cabbage, celery, beet—a lot of different types.
How’d you get into microgreens?
We were farming in Maine, where in the winter there’s less than seven or eight hours of light a day. We were trying to find things to do and realized you can always make seeds germinate because it doesn’t take light.
How many pounds do you sell each week?
About five to ten pounds’ worth of four-ounce packets.
Where do you grow your greens?
On a deck outside of our rented house in Big Sur. It’s porch farming.
How big is your porch?
Twenty-five feet by ten feet.
Square footage of microgreens grown on porch:
Fifty square feet.
Pounds of seed used per year:
Seventy pounds.
What’s your usual schedule?
We sow, harvest, and deliver twice a week.
Approximate number of hours between picking and delivery:
Between six and ten.
Why microgreens?
Because we only have a porch.