Northern Arizona press treated to Hawk Walk

Susan Ruble, a state and federally licensed master falconer and wildlife rehabilitator, stands with Beau, a mature male Harris hawk during a "hawk walk" held at the Flagstaff Arboretum Feb. 7 (Photo by Wells Mahkee Jr./NHO).

Susan Ruble, a state and federally licensed master falconer and wildlife rehabilitator, stands with Beau, a mature male Harris hawk during a "hawk walk" held at the Flagstaff Arboretum Feb. 7 (Photo by Wells Mahkee Jr./NHO).

FLAGSTAFF - The Arboretum at Flagstaff has an exciting new program-it's called the Hawk Walk, and it is definitely the answer to those people often heard to lament, "There's just nothing to do in Flagstaff."

Four members of the northern Arizona press corps were treated to the walk on Feb. 7. Led by Susan Ruble, a state and federally licensed master falconer and wildlife rehabilitator, the intimate group walked down to the aviary to meet a pair of Harris hawks, Genoa and Beau. Genoa, a juvenile female, is currently subservient to Beau, however, when she reaches maturity she will become the dominant bird, Ruble explained.

As the pair of hawks flew to the roof of a nearby structure, the walk began.

"If you put your arm up and the birds are out, you will have a bird on your arm," Ruble said with a smile. "Unlike other hawks, the Harris hawk is social."

The Harris hawk is also unique to other hawks. They fly together and often hunt in packs, earning themselves the nickname "wolves of the sky." They also share food. In fact they are the only birds who do all three: live together, cooperate while hunting and join in the resulting meal.

Some of the raptors of the Arboretum population are rehabilitated. Ruble talked about a hawk found by a family who decided to care for it themselves.

"They did a really good job," Ruble said, saying that they had built a really nice aviary for the bird, and that the bird enjoyed watching television. The problems began because the family fed the bird meat from the grocery store, causing calcium deposits and bone problems-including three stress fractures.

As the group walked through a crudely broken trail in the deep snow, Genoa and Beau flew from tree to tree, looking down on the humans below, obviously hoping for some of the meat Ruble carried in a pouch strapped around her waist. The meat she carried is farm-raised quail. As she spoke, Ruble would gesture with her gauntlet-covered hand and occasionally one or the other hawk would land on the outstretched arm looking for a treat.

"Oh, I'm sorry sweetie," she said each time.

"Hawks are trained on trust," Ruble explained. "They learn that you won't grab her, or grab her prey. Hawks are opportunists; they know when they have a good thing going."

As the group continued through the trees, Ruble described the difficulties of rehabilitating a bird.

"You can't just wait until she is healed and then throw her out to fend for herself," Ruble said. "You need to fly her to let her muscles build up again. Then you have to figure out where to release her. You just can't take her anywhere-you have to be careful that she isn't in someone else's territory, where she'll be chased very hard-from one territory to another."

Harris hawks in the wild that live through the first year have a 70 to 80 percent mortality rate, Ruble said-further illustrating the difficulty a rehabilitated bird faces in returning to the wild.

Ruble watched the pair of hawks closely, explaining that the pair seems to be getting ready to stack-stand on each other's backs. This has nothing to do with reproduction, Ruble explained. They have been seen to stack as much as five hawks high, and some scientists believe it has something to do with a Sonoran existence-too few perches, an aversion to cactus needles, but these are guesses.

Both Genoa and Beau have transmitters clipped to feathers low on their backs so that should they chase a crow or other hawk out of their territory, Ruble and her staff can find them. Beau weighs two pounds, Genoa a half a pound more-but this doesn't stop Beau from chasing several crows across the forest canopy before the birds are prepared for return to the aviary. The pair are fed more quail meat-hawks that eat birds have brighter yellow feet and seers (the skin around the hawk's nose and beak) than those who eat rabbits.

The fun was not over. Two Eurasian eagle owls-huge birds with pumpkin orange eyes and comically endearing feather "horns"-were introduced to the group, who enthusiastically received the news that they would be allowed to fly, feed and hold the owls-Malachai and Luna (a.k.a "Big Girl").

The huge owls look almost identical to North America's own great horned owl, except for the orange rather than yellow eyes. Both are, in the words of Ruble, "sweethearts."

The eager visitors spread out, right arms sheathed in thick leather gauntlets. Each held up his or her gloved fist in turn, baited with more quail meat. The proper stance, Ruble explained, was back to the owl (so he doesn't view the human as a predator) but watching over shoulder for imminent landing. Malachai did not disappoint. Spreading his wings in an awesome spread, Malachai flew from fist to fist and collected his reward. His landing was incredibly gentle and light.

"They can't see good close up," Ruble explained as Malachai searched gauntlet creases for additional meat. As he gulped down chunks of quail, looking amazingly like a cat, Ruble explained that these big birds are capable of taking down small deer and lambs as prey.

Next it was Luna's turn to be fed, and she was passed from glove to glove-all seven pounds of her. From her perch on a gloved arm thrust into the pit above a hip to help support all that weight, she was quite capable of looking her holder right in the eye-only inches away.

The final raptor to make an appearance was Bill, a lanar falcon with black, fathomless eyes. Ruble pointed out his fine falcon features, including a tomial tooth (or killing tooth)-a notch on the cutting edge of his beak specifically for snapping the neck of his prey. His face is decorated with malar stripes below his eyes. His long, skinny toes demonstrate that he eats other birds. Bill is on loan to the Arboretum, where he is being flown.

"We can fly him and use him in our presentations before he reaches breeding age," Ruble said. "This allows him to have fun before doing the mommy and daddy thing."

His stiff feathers-Bill is not soft like the owls-are needed for his steep killing dives of speeds up to 200 miles per hour.

Bill sat patiently on the glove of handler Linda White as the group made their way back to the Arboretum's main building-to end the experience with hot coffee and sweet bread.

Groups of four or more-up to eight people-can schedule a Hawk Walk, Ruble said. The cost of the experience is surprisingly low-$35 for members of the Arboretum, and $45 for non-members. The event is very flexible, and Ruble said that morning and early afternoons are best. She asks that people try to come when there is low wind, and should weather prevent a group from their scheduled Hawk Walk, Ruble is happy to reschedule.

Ruble said that where Navajo and other individuals who might not want to view owls, they can choose to be left out of the experience.

Soon, Nara the African auger buzzard (who looks like a hawk to Americans-there are only four true hawks in America, Ruble said. The rest belong to the buzzard family, including our beloved red tail hawks.), will be included in the event. Nara is the celebrity in the aviary-when she spreads her wings, she seems to be mostly white in color-and has appeared in a commercial and also a musical video. The money she has earned for this has largely paid for the food for the rest of her companions for a full year.

Falconry, Ruble explained, is the oldest sport known to man. Falconers, who usually own only one or two birds, are quite emotionally attached to their raptors-she reiterated that the relationship of man to bird is completely built on trust.

Falconers have been amazingly generous by donating their birds should they be needed for reintroduction purposes, such as the peregrine falcon, which was almost wiped out by the use of DDT, Ruble concluded.

To book a Hawk Walk, call Susan Ruble at (928) 774-1442, ext. 116, or contact Rachel Edelstein, Public Programs Manager at ext. 110.

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