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FERIDELL RANCH CALIFORNIA
Something odd going on here!

Unoccupied Historic Ranch
Mono County
Circa 1900's to Unknown 

My exploration of Feridell Ranch in 2004 was one of an eerie sort. You see, I decided to spend the night here and camp out of the back of my Suburban. I ate dinner early so I wouldn't have to cook in the dark. I decided not to use a camp fire or lantern thinking I would bed down early for an early rise the following morning. Well the ruckus all started around 11pm. I had already been asleep for at least two hours. First my "camp security" dog started growling, and she just would not quit. So I threw a beam out the back of my tail gate to appease her and see what little critter was passing through. Well, I didn't see anything. The wind was blowing the tall trees above so I could not hear any foot steps or rustling around. So I covered my ears with my pillow and rolled over back to sleep. 10 minutes later I heard what sounded like pots and pans clattering from the area of the old ranch house. Ok, my eyes were wide open now! I instantly thought back to earlier in the evening when I had looked inside the ranch house. I can't remember anything in there that would make a noise like that! And nothing had been moved in there for years... what could have that been? Slowly I pulled the slide back on my 9mm and slid it in to the holster on my side. I pushed two shells in to my Mossberg and slowly opened the tailgate and slid out. I stepped in to my sandals as I hit the ground and carefully positioned myself on the opposite side of my vehicle from where I had heard the noises. My dog continued to bark louder now, and I could not hear a thing. I let her go on for fear of giving my position away in the darkness. And that’s when it happened. A loud snap noise came from the area behind the old ranch house. The same kind of snap you hear when a 250lb person steps on a dead tree branch. So now I am thinking "Big Animal" Ok, I have done this before several times in tactical protection training, I thought to myself. I pointed the shotgun in the general direction waiting for the furry shit to show itself. I will pump off the two rounds in the Mossberg then draw my 9mm and finish it off as it charged towards me. But nothing came out of the shadows?

It felt like I was standing there forever. I rested my forearm on the hood of my truck and the grip on my shot gun loosened. Then everything went quiet. My dog stopped barking and turned her attention to the area further down the dirt path past the house. The trees stopped blowing. There were no crickets, no frogs, and no birds. My dog whimpered and groaned softly as she stared at attention down that dark road. Something was not right… I slowly retreated back towards my tail gate. That’s when I heard it. It was faint at first, then it grew louder and louder. A woman's whimpering voice… That’s it, I'm out of here! I ran past the back of my truck, tossed the shot gun in and fired it up. I felt a bit braver inside; I used the high beams as I backed the hell out of there. But I saw nothing. As I drove away on to the main road, I remembered that there were absolutely no other houses in that area. When I pulled in to the Bridgeport Lake campground my hands were still tightly gripped around my steering wheel, and my knees were still shaking. Needless to say, I didn't sleep much that night, or the next couple of nights. In fact, I have never been back to the old Feridell Ranch. And there are no plans on a return visit.

UPDATE (Sept. 2007) During recent research it was discovered that there may have been an error or name change. While reviewing civil suit documents regarding water rights I found a listing of family names with a similar spelling. (it was very common for the ranches in this area to sell their water rights to the utility companies in Los Angeles, Ca). the names on the documents are as follows; Gustave A. Friedell, William Robert Friedell, John Friedell. (Notice the difference in spelling of the last name). The correct spelling is unknown at this time.

 

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