By Joe Atkinson
Living in eagle country or, more specifically, the high desert of eastern Oregon, has its challenges for flying golden eagles at jackrabbits (what we call our hares). In the high desert the open sagebrush plains go on forever, as far as the eye can see, it’s like an endless ocean. It’s magical. The smell of the sage is pure and simple and clean. It draws you in and fills your senses with everything that is wild and free. And, for all its beauty, life in the high desert is harsh and unforgiving. Animals living out here are tough and difficult to catch because only the strong survive.
I realized that hunting jackrabbits the traditional way, off-the-fist, was going to be very difficult. They are hunted everyday by wild eagles and coyotes, and jackrabbits are masters at disappearing, using the sage as cover. So, then, how to hunt them? That seemingly simple question sent me on a journey that ultimately ended with my female golden eagle waiting-on over me like a giant falcon, watching for the “ground team” to flush a jackrabbit under her. The ground team, along with me and my wife Cordi, is made up of three Tazi sight hounds, Zeva, Ayla and Khan. And, of course, “air support” is Widow, our 9lb female golden eagle. In the early days, I used two of our ranch dogs that, although very willing to give chase, just didn’t have enough speed to impress the jackrabbits to stay on the move. The addition of the Tazis proved to be a game changer.
Widow will typically circle over us anywhere from 300-2,000 ft., the most effective height being 500-1000 ft.; anything higher and the jackrabbits can reach thicker cover and usually escape. Now, one would think that a jackrabbit being chased by three freakishly fast dogs and an eagle coming in from above, would have no chance to escape. Well, there is a good reason there are lots of jackrabbits out there, they are masters at getting away even with my team in hot pursuit.
So, let’s go hunting. Here is a flight that I recall from this season’s journal:
5/10/2018
temp: 74F, 23C
wind: 8mph, 12kph
clear, blue sky
I put Widow on the scale and she weighed in at 9 lbs., which is her best flying weight. Frankly, her weight is of little importance when she is in the hunting frame of mind, I’d fly her regardless of what the scale said. I loaded all three Tazis in the truck and Cordi and I headed up the hills to the open desert. I pulled up to, what I call, the launching point. Here, we wired up Widow with telemetry and cast her off. This sounds exciting, however, what happens is she jumps off my glove and lands on a sage bush some ten feet away. Then she begins her search, looking for the warm columns of air rising up from the ground, often miles away down in the valley. For reasons unknown to us, Widow will suddenly launch off and fly to the spot she saw the thermal and begin her ascent into the sky. We could tell that, on this day, there was plenty of lift, as the small down feathers that Widow shook loose were pulled up and out of sight into the sky.
With Widow now up and in position over us, we jumped the Tazis out of the truck and moved out into the sage. Cordi was on my left side leading Khan, who we keep on a leash until a jackrabbit is flushed; otherwise he’d cover the entire area and we would lose all control of the hunt. We call him our “cheetah dog” and for good reason, he is one fast dog. Ayla is the advance scout, preferring to be further out in front of us and Zeva is the mid-range dog, mostly interested in chasing lizards and ground squirrels, which she eats. Ayla is the best jackrabbit finder and we all watch her every move. In typical Tazi fashion she will move in and out of the sage, stopping at times and looking for movement. The idea is to keep some sort of control of the flights; if not, we wouldn’t see anything.
As we walked, the anticipation built with each step, knowing that a jackrabbit could flush and the chase would be on. Ayla and Zeva had moved in close, with one on each side of an area where the jackrabbits like to hide. Without warning, Ayla began to pick up speed as she saw some movement and was off. The jackrabbit bolted out from the cover, I yelled ‘HO’ and Cordi released Khan. All three dogs accelerated after the jackrabbit. With no time to hide in cover, the jackrabbit went into a full burn-out, ears pinned and powerful hind legs reaching out in front of its nose with every stride. Khan made up the distance and was closing on the speedy jackrabbit. Cordi and I both heard the sound, the sound of speed like the ripping of cloth. Widow, having been circling over our heads, was now in a full, nearly vertical, tuck. She threw out her legs for a moment or two, then back into the teardrop stoop. We watched the Tazis flanking the jackrabbit, one on each side and Khan coming up the middle. Widow’s timing needed to be perfect as the jack flashed between the sage bushes, rocks and cactus at full speed. At seventy miles per hour Widow came in with all the power and force that a female golden eagle can bring. We saw a cloud of dust from Widow’s impact and the sliding stops of all three dogs; this jackrabbit did not escape. Cordi and I stood in silence, once again, at what we had just witnessed. As the dust filtered away and the Tazis looked for a shady spot to have a rest, Widow happily plucked fur from her prize. For this moment anyway, all was right with the world.
Good hawking!