"Since you arrived early, would you want to help us fly eagles," the eagle flight team lead asked.
There are two groups within our flight team at the University of Minnesota Raptor Center. For the last four years I've volunteered to fly "small birds," which includes owls, hawks, ospreys and falcons. By flying them, I mean we exercise their wings and bodies as part of their rehabilitation. That's done by attaching them to a tether, launching them into the air, and letting them fly to the end of the tether, or as far as they'll go - anywhere between 2 and 100 feet. Along with the small birds group, we have a group that does the same with eagles. They are specially trained and qualified because of the increased risk in flying the heavier, stronger, bird.
So I welcomed the opportunity to go along and watch the team fly the eagles. After attaching an eagle to jesses, and then to the line, we joined a second crew with another eagle in the van for the trip to Como Park. Como has an open space big enough for them to fly enough distance to make it worthwhile. I sat in the back seat with Gary, the fisherman/eagle handler I told you about in What You Don't Know.... ,his eagle next to me. He suggested I keep my eye on the eagles head and keep my arm tucked at my side. That's when the stories of past incidents and injuries began.
"Last year when we went to South Africa, I ran into a fella who had a torn lip like I had at the time." Gary began. "It turns out he was a falconer, and his lip was clipped by a falcon's talon. What a coincidence, since a week earlier when I was carrying an eagle like I am now, I let it get too close to my face and he tore at it with his beak and split MY lip."
"Did you hear about Steve," said Jim, another member of the team? "A few weeks ago he was trying to catch an eagle in the pen when it clipped his ear with the tip of his wing and sliced right through the pinna of his outer ear. They didn't stitch it, though, just used some of that new fangled glue."
This was all said with glances in my direction, with a slight curl in their lips. I scooted as close to the car door and away from the eagle as I could.
When we reached the field, I was asked if I wanted to handle the line, since that part of flight is very much the same as with small birds. As the bird flies out, the line handler simply plays out the line, holding on so that when the bird reaches the end of the line, it can be brought down gently and held there for the recovery. "Heck yes," I replied, quickly forgetting the conversation in the car. I didn't expect I'd be able to participate in the flight, and was excited to do so.
On the first flight, with Gary standing behind me and Jim hoisting the young juvenile into the air, I tracked it with my eyes and loosely let the line pass through my gloves. The eagle flew strongly across the field, aiming for the trees instead of down the longer chute. It worked just like it does with small birds, and I started to squeeze the line to add friction and stop its ascent. As it got closer to the trees, I could feel Gary tense up behind me.
"Bring him down... don't let him go up into the trees," he said with emerging alarm.
I wanted to give the eagle maximum reach, since he was flying so strongly. Then I understood Gary's reason for concern. Logically, it took a lot more squeeze to bring down a 10 pound eagle than it does for a 2 pound hawk. He came down with a plop as I squeezed hard enough at the last second before it made the final stretch for the trees, landing him at just the grasses edge.
"If they get in the trees, they're hell to get down," said Gary, adding "and with eagles, we want to avoid them hitting the ground too hard. Start a little earlier and bring him down a little softer."
The next two flights went much better, with gentle landings now that I had calibrated how much friction to apply.
Then Gary asked if I wanted to go out for the recovery. "Heck yes.... um, but what's different about an eagle recovery," I asked?
"Nothing, really. Just the weight, which makes the pick up a little more challenging," he replied nonchalantly.
Yes, I had rescued and handled eagles before (see Raptor Update), when no qualified alternative was available, but those injured, sick, or premature eagles are usually pretty exhausted and weak, so they submit relatively easily. But I had received no formal training. I ran out along the line to the eagle before anyone had time to think about that fact. I wasn't going to miss this chance.
All flight requires training, but eagle handling is a special qualification. Especially because of the challenges of capturing the eagle in their flight pens or flight rooms. In the single outdoor flight pen, as many as eight eagles are contained in a large, fenced in pen about 20' by 60' in size, free to fly anywhere in that pen. To capture one for flight, you need to single out the specific bird to be flown and corner it somehow, or grab it during flight. It's usually a two person job. One to discourage the bird from taking flight, and the other to corner and capture the bird. Not easy, and if not done carefully, can cause harm to the bird or the team member.
So training and diligence is required to avoid that kind of outcome. Or to avoid injury to the talons, legs or wings that can occur from an improper grab. That possibility is enhanced when trying to grab an eagle from a flight room. A flight room is much smaller and located inside the center, limiting any kind of flight. But in that case, it's necessary to turn out the lights and capture the bird in the dark to limit the thrashing and potential for injury - of the bird! The same method is used for hawks. It took me some time to get used to grabbing hawks in the dark, getting over the intimidation and developing the skill of grabbing without seeing, sometimes not having a clue which way the bird is situated when you finally have a leg in hand. With eagles, I'm told it's similar, except that the eagle kicks and wrestles more actively. Once you have one in hand, you need to hang on, sometimes being dragged through the dark until you get control.
So, yeah, special training seems like a good idea. But first you need to gain some experience just holding, throwing, and recovering the bird. As it turned out, I was being tested. Would I show interest and some confidence, overcoming any intimidation? Apparently this year was a bumper crop for newborn eagles, with the Raptor Center brimming to capacity with premature eagles. For the healthy ones, there's the prospect of release, once recovered, over the frozen river in an area where lots of mature eagles congregate. That's usually in specific areas where the water stays open and fishing remains a food source. But first they have to recover and prove they're strong enough and healthy enough to handle themselves. That's why the flight teams are so busy and, with usual turnover, need some reinforcement.
I learned later, as I joined the team in subsequent flights, that I was being recruited. Hence the scare stories and the "here, you try it" opportunities. Formal training in capturing healthy eagles yet to come. Yes, I'm a little intimidated by that part, but I was when I started with small birds, too. It just takes practice. In the meantime, I get to handle and help the most majestic birds around. Quite a privilege.
There are two groups within our flight team at the University of Minnesota Raptor Center. For the last four years I've volunteered to fly "small birds," which includes owls, hawks, ospreys and falcons. By flying them, I mean we exercise their wings and bodies as part of their rehabilitation. That's done by attaching them to a tether, launching them into the air, and letting them fly to the end of the tether, or as far as they'll go - anywhere between 2 and 100 feet. Along with the small birds group, we have a group that does the same with eagles. They are specially trained and qualified because of the increased risk in flying the heavier, stronger, bird.
So I welcomed the opportunity to go along and watch the team fly the eagles. After attaching an eagle to jesses, and then to the line, we joined a second crew with another eagle in the van for the trip to Como Park. Como has an open space big enough for them to fly enough distance to make it worthwhile. I sat in the back seat with Gary, the fisherman/eagle handler I told you about in What You Don't Know.... ,his eagle next to me. He suggested I keep my eye on the eagles head and keep my arm tucked at my side. That's when the stories of past incidents and injuries began.
"Last year when we went to South Africa, I ran into a fella who had a torn lip like I had at the time." Gary began. "It turns out he was a falconer, and his lip was clipped by a falcon's talon. What a coincidence, since a week earlier when I was carrying an eagle like I am now, I let it get too close to my face and he tore at it with his beak and split MY lip."
"Did you hear about Steve," said Jim, another member of the team? "A few weeks ago he was trying to catch an eagle in the pen when it clipped his ear with the tip of his wing and sliced right through the pinna of his outer ear. They didn't stitch it, though, just used some of that new fangled glue."
This was all said with glances in my direction, with a slight curl in their lips. I scooted as close to the car door and away from the eagle as I could.
When we reached the field, I was asked if I wanted to handle the line, since that part of flight is very much the same as with small birds. As the bird flies out, the line handler simply plays out the line, holding on so that when the bird reaches the end of the line, it can be brought down gently and held there for the recovery. "Heck yes," I replied, quickly forgetting the conversation in the car. I didn't expect I'd be able to participate in the flight, and was excited to do so.
On the first flight, with Gary standing behind me and Jim hoisting the young juvenile into the air, I tracked it with my eyes and loosely let the line pass through my gloves. The eagle flew strongly across the field, aiming for the trees instead of down the longer chute. It worked just like it does with small birds, and I started to squeeze the line to add friction and stop its ascent. As it got closer to the trees, I could feel Gary tense up behind me.
"Bring him down... don't let him go up into the trees," he said with emerging alarm.
I wanted to give the eagle maximum reach, since he was flying so strongly. Then I understood Gary's reason for concern. Logically, it took a lot more squeeze to bring down a 10 pound eagle than it does for a 2 pound hawk. He came down with a plop as I squeezed hard enough at the last second before it made the final stretch for the trees, landing him at just the grasses edge.
"If they get in the trees, they're hell to get down," said Gary, adding "and with eagles, we want to avoid them hitting the ground too hard. Start a little earlier and bring him down a little softer."
The next two flights went much better, with gentle landings now that I had calibrated how much friction to apply.
Then Gary asked if I wanted to go out for the recovery. "Heck yes.... um, but what's different about an eagle recovery," I asked?
"Nothing, really. Just the weight, which makes the pick up a little more challenging," he replied nonchalantly.
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The Pick Up |
All flight requires training, but eagle handling is a special qualification. Especially because of the challenges of capturing the eagle in their flight pens or flight rooms. In the single outdoor flight pen, as many as eight eagles are contained in a large, fenced in pen about 20' by 60' in size, free to fly anywhere in that pen. To capture one for flight, you need to single out the specific bird to be flown and corner it somehow, or grab it during flight. It's usually a two person job. One to discourage the bird from taking flight, and the other to corner and capture the bird. Not easy, and if not done carefully, can cause harm to the bird or the team member.
So training and diligence is required to avoid that kind of outcome. Or to avoid injury to the talons, legs or wings that can occur from an improper grab. That possibility is enhanced when trying to grab an eagle from a flight room. A flight room is much smaller and located inside the center, limiting any kind of flight. But in that case, it's necessary to turn out the lights and capture the bird in the dark to limit the thrashing and potential for injury - of the bird! The same method is used for hawks. It took me some time to get used to grabbing hawks in the dark, getting over the intimidation and developing the skill of grabbing without seeing, sometimes not having a clue which way the bird is situated when you finally have a leg in hand. With eagles, I'm told it's similar, except that the eagle kicks and wrestles more actively. Once you have one in hand, you need to hang on, sometimes being dragged through the dark until you get control.
So, yeah, special training seems like a good idea. But first you need to gain some experience just holding, throwing, and recovering the bird. As it turned out, I was being tested. Would I show interest and some confidence, overcoming any intimidation? Apparently this year was a bumper crop for newborn eagles, with the Raptor Center brimming to capacity with premature eagles. For the healthy ones, there's the prospect of release, once recovered, over the frozen river in an area where lots of mature eagles congregate. That's usually in specific areas where the water stays open and fishing remains a food source. But first they have to recover and prove they're strong enough and healthy enough to handle themselves. That's why the flight teams are so busy and, with usual turnover, need some reinforcement.
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Introduction to eagle flight by Gary, handling the line for this flight |
I learned later, as I joined the team in subsequent flights, that I was being recruited. Hence the scare stories and the "here, you try it" opportunities. Formal training in capturing healthy eagles yet to come. Yes, I'm a little intimidated by that part, but I was when I started with small birds, too. It just takes practice. In the meantime, I get to handle and help the most majestic birds around. Quite a privilege.
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