Winter Hunter

(American Goshawk)

I may never see a Goshawk in the wild. They are very rare in the Klamath Falls area of Oregon, but it’s one of those you-have-to-be-in-the-right-place-at-exactly-the-right-time events. You also have to be a good enough birder to know what you are seeing, although I think their size might offer a first clue.

Becky and I did have an up-close and personal encounter with a Goshawk one year during the Winter Wings Festival in Klamath Falls. We had signed up for a very early field trip to see the advertised fly out of Bald Eagles from their overnight roost. Veterans of the event remember years when a hundred or more of the magnificent birds streamed from the forest heading to their preferred hunting locations for the day.

We woke at 4:00 a.m. to find the temperature had plummeted to a few degrees below zero, a condition made worse by four inches of icy snow that had fallen. The first challenge was just getting our car up our very steep driveway and onto the yet-to-be-plowed roads. Crazy as birders are, we joined dozens of others to climb aboard a school bus and travel to the host’s warm and welcoming home. The rear deck, snow still blowing, was the vantage point for the recurring Eagle drama. Barely visible under white-out conditions, we saw a single eagle brave the morning and leave its roost. It must have been especially hungry or very naive.

But that disappointment was assuaged by a distraction provided by a young biologist. Perched on his gauntleted forearm was an adolescent American Goshawk as regal as one could imagine. With permission and instructions to be calm, I approached the bird and stroked its feathered chest. How amazing. Definitely worth the travail.