More Falconry

I realized today how badly I'm chomping at the bit to "put the glove back on". Maybe it's the cold, overcast days that are my favorites in winter. Maybe it's the perched Redtails every 1/4 mile on I-94 I saw today: at least 5 RTs in 10 minutes. Or maybe it's the 30 squirrels I see everyday just waiting to play with a trained hawk!

My favorite bird, a breeder-produced Harris’ Hawk named "Nicole", earned early accolades from the St. Louis falconers during her inaugural year. Seeing her hard-hitting style (not typical of her species) and the result of that style on her captured game, she was re-monikered "The Hammer". Despite her

gung-ho attitude toward game, she was a pleasant, albeit noisy bird to be around. Sweet natured comes to mind, if a bloodstained, rapacious predator can be called sweet!

This photo was taken after her first rabbit catch. (That bearded, longhaired and fairly skinny guy is none other than me again.)

I had quite a few adventures with Hammer. She once captured a former fiancée’s dog—twice in less than 2 minutes. The dog was fine but the relationship suffered. She nailed a feral cat whose bite to Hammer’s wing put her out of commission for 2 months. She was a great squirrel hawk; she ended her first season with her first squirrel—a nearly 3 pound fox squirrel. The following year saw her put 3 squirrels in the bag in 45 minutes on several occasions.

Hammer seemed to believe anything was fair game. She chased deer, coyote, groundhogs, quail, and woodcock. In Minnesota she mastered the art of car-hawking crows and chased and rolled her first ever white-tailed jackrabbit. The jack left her standing in the field shaking her head! But the Minnesota cold was too much for her. She now resides in a breeding project in Valdosta Georgia. I miss her.

There are several Minnesota falconers flying Harris' Hawks these days, so maybe they are more cold-tolerant than we once thought. I'll have to check into that for future reference.

In the meantime, I'll continue the dreaming, research and planning for a big, Minnesota-born female Redtail ready to tackle squirrels, rabbits and perhaps a nice rooster pheasant.

What if I...Put the Glove Back On?

The over-riding incentive to lose 80 pounds is for my health, which of course enables me to live to see my son grow up and have children that my wife and I can enjoy being grandparents of. I can also have a higher quality of life without pain in my legs, a need for a CPAP machine to sleep, a daily dose of Prilosec for heartburn, not to mention the energy to keep up with my energetic son!

But I also want very badly to return to my other passion in life, FALCONRY.

Hunting with a trained hawk is what I was meant to do. I am right with the world when I have a hawk on the fist, tense and ready for a fleeing rabbit. Or high in a tree, laddering higher and closer to a dodgy squirrel intent on surviving this unfortunate run-in with a winged predator intent on filling its crop with warm meat.

Besides complicated and time-consuming, falconry is also a strenuous activity. Walking through knee-high snow for hours on end looking for a rabbit for the hawk to chase is no walk in the park. After only a short time, that 2.5 pound bird on your left fist gets HEAVY!  Fighting the brush tangles in the woods while keeping a squirrel in constant motion—and therefore on the hawk’s radar—is also hard work.


Eighty pounds lighter and in vastly better shape, I have no doubt I will be able to handle the demand on my energy, strength and endurance. Fitting it into my schedule—which is why I sidelined the sport in the first place—is another story. But, I shall burn that bridge when I get to it. First things first: Burn 76 pounds.

A skinnier and younger (and hairier) Scott and my first redtailed hawk, Damian: