Finally, some good news: California condors make a welcome return in Sierra Nevada
You never forget your first encounter with a California condor.
Mine came in 2005, back when Pinnacles National Park near Salinas was still a national monument. Two friends and I hiked up the High Peaks Trail with the hope of seeing one of these magnificent, endangered birds with their 9½-foot wingspans.
We didn’t see any at first, just some turkey vultures riding thermals above the unusual volcanic rock formations. But then I heard a low rumbling whoosh above me that sounded like the avian version of a B-52 bomber.
I looked up and there it was: an adult condor with a numbered tag hanging from one of its wings. So captivating were its features (bald leathery head, red eyes, sharp beak) I thought I was staring at a creature from prehistoric times.
That unforgettable encounter was enough to convince me of the worthiness of our costly, decades-long effort to prevent condors from extinction. Hopefully more people will get the chance for one of their own now that condors have been spotted in Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks for the first time since the 1970s.
Did you see the photos, taken by a park employee in May when Sequoia was closed, of the two condors roosting atop Moro Rock?
Made me grin. Why should humans be the only species to enjoy that view? Condors don’t even need to walk up all those steps.
And, frankly, in a year packed with COVID-19 confusion, social unrest and divisive politics around both, we can use all the good news we can get.
So welcome back to our large, feathered neighbors.
From brink of extinction
Condors can fly hundreds of miles in a single day, and the Sierra Nevada is part of their historic range. Back in the day, they were known to occupy the hollowed-out trunks of giant sequoias.
Population declines, observed since the 1890s, reached a nadir in 1982 when only 22 condors remained in the wild. That’s when the federal government made the controversial decision to capture those birds and relocate them to zoos in Los Angeles and San Diego, where they were encouraged to breed with other captives.
The breeding program proved surprisingly successful. Today the total population of wild condors numbers approximately 340, including 100 that fly free in the coastal mountains of central and southern California, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
What’s the next step? For condor populations to become self-sustaining, which managers believe is a real possibility.
Getting the lead out
Condors are scavengers, meaning they eat the decaying flesh of dead animals. Unfortunately, many of those carcasses contain fragments of lead ammunition, which made condors susceptible to lead poisoning.
In 2013, state lawmakers began a phased-in prohibition of lead bullets by big-game hunters starting in historic condor range that included the mountains east of Fresno. (The ban became statewide in 2019.) Local hunters howled – until they discovered newly manufactured copper bullets, though more expensive, performed better than the standard lead-core ones.
Did California’s lead-bullet ban result in condors returning to the Sierra? That’s probably a step too far. I’ve heard about possible sightings for years. Now we have absolute proof.
My brief encounter with a wild condor was an experience I’ll never forget. If you ever hear a low, rumbling whoosh while standing on Moro Rock or some other prominent pinnacle, be sure to look up.
This story was originally published July 8, 2020 at 4:05 PM.
