Eagle Journal

Day 43	 Black Widow: 9lbs 6oz / Jackhammer: 8lbs 3oz
	Temp: 71’ & 62’ / Wind 14 mph & 2 mph

 

Hello everyone,

 

Widow:

 

Diane is the wife of a friend of ours who has always loved eagles. Diane is confined to a wheel chair and has never had the opportunity to see a golden eagle fly, so her husband Jim, Cordi and I trekked through the ranch, driving on old dirt roads, eventually coming to the back side of the bluff where I fly Widow. We cut through the barbed wire fence (it needed a gate there anyway) and wheeled Diane out on the point of a good size bluff on an absolutely beautiful day. A clear blue sky with a refreshing breeze made the conditions just right for Widow to slope soar, hopefully right in front of us. With everyone on the point, I unhooded Widow and she took to the air going straight out from us, and rode the wind within 25 feet of where we stood. For the better part of two hours Widow played on the bluff, catching small thermals, going up and then coming back over our heads. Widow would fly out over the valley carrying us with her, watching her feel the wind. When she would catch a pocket of warm rising air and be lifted up we could almost feel the sensation — the rush that comes from the feeling of freedom that it must bring.

 

JH:

 

With so much building going on in the area where I fly, sometimes fields can open up that I never knew were there. Like this morning……I was driving along, look over and…..a field! So I circled back looking for any signs that say the dreaded words “KEEP OUT NO TRESPASSING” or, worse yet, workers in the field. I saw nothing. The fact is I knew this field was there but never really wanted to climb the fence that surrounded it, but, hey, the fence was gone so….  This field is best described as a postage stamp shaped field, not more than 3 acres large, and has very recently been plowed, so no weeds. I crossed under a line of cotton woods and unhooded JH who looked around, rousted, and was ready to go. Ten steps and up jumped a jack, but the jack was 150 yards out there. JH was closing but I knew the rabbit would get too close to the fence and the trucking yard for JH’s liking. He pulled off and came back. On both sides of this field are trucks, either loading or unloading, lots of activity, but the fencing is almost non-see through so I figured JH wouldn’t be too bugged. I hoped anyway. I was about halfway through the field and a jack exploded from nowhere, and JH was on it. Then another rabbit was up and running closer, turning off to the left. JH checked off the first jack and tried to hook number two as it was making a very sharp turn, but missed. I was a little surprised that JH, with as many jacks as he has caught, checked off the first jack rabbit; more times than not the second jack gets away. Just goes to show you, even with tons of experience, it is still hard to resist.

 

I turned and headed back down the east side of the field and up jumped another jack, heading down the middle of the field. JH launched with power but, because of the way I was standing, he had to take off in the opposite direction and had to circle back around to get after the jack. He was at full after-burn and his opportunity was closing, as the jack rabbit was now going for the fence! JH came barreling in like a freight train and the jack jumped to the left, then to the right, kicking up dust both times. JH footed the jack in the head and his momentum caused him and the jack to do a complete somersault. Dust, straw, weeds and all went up in the air. I was pacing off the 65 yard flight when I heard “Did you see that!?” and, looking in the direction of the voice, I saw two truck drivers coming up to the fence to get a closer look. JH was not happy. “Hey, what kind of bird is that?” “A harris hawk,” I said. “Yeah, we see other guys in this area with birds; your bird is much bigger than theirs.” “Yeah, I know, they have wimpy little girlie birds.” I know the falconers that fly here and it will drive those guys nuts thinking that someone is out here with a huge harris hawk, until they figure out who it was.

 

I then went to the speed field. I have talked about it before and I don’t see how jack rabbits could run any faster anywhere than in this field – table-top flat, compacted sand, with nothing to get in the way. Jacks have only one means of escape, run and run faster! There are some weeds growing here but the jacks don’t go in them; not sure why, but they don’t. They prefer to dig their scrapes in the open field and, therefore, they see you coming from a long way off. I went in the unlocked gate and unhooded JH. He spotted a jack 500 plus yards out and was off. He nearly caught it at the fence on the far side of this large field. I usually walk down the side of the field making turns through the weeds because you never know, and then work my way out into the speed zone. Your bird must be in condition for these slips — they are long, 100 plus yards, and fast, with a fence at the end. Sixty yards in front of me a jack exploded up and was in full after-burn, heading like a shot straight for the cyclone fence some 300 yards further ahead. JH was gone off my arm in a blur, flying close to the ground……he was cranking! People that have seen him fly in person or on tape are amazed at his wing turnover; quick, powerful strokes eating up the ground between him and the jack rabbit! At the very last second the jack attempted a sharp turn to the left and was blotted out with the arrival of JH. That was cool. The jack flushed 60 yards in front of us and 110 yards from the spot the jack flushed, JH caught it. JH flew 170 yards and the jack ran 110 yards……speed on speed. As I was leaving the field two old guys in a pickup truck rolled up and said they saw me out in the field and “was that a turkey vulture?” A TURKEY VULTURE? “No”, I said, “it’s a red tail.” Oh, I hunted a little more and JH caught a cat. It didn’t make much noise but did bite him…..I wish he wouldn’t do that!

 

Hope all is well,

Joe

Pic 1:  JH and jack in the speed field

Pic 2:  JH and jack in the postage stamp field

Pic 3:  A look at the speed field

Pic 4:  a look at the postage stamp field, my truck is parked in those trees somewhere