Outnumbered & Abroad; Falconry (Part 15)

Wales (Saturday, September 29, 2028 | Day #5) - Once in the car, Nicole gave us our next clue, which had to do with falconry. She wasn’t sure that we were going to have time, but we decided to give it a try. When in Rome, right? (Or Wales, should I say?)

I guess Nicole had ben trying to book the falconry experience, but that they had never gotten back to her. We decided that, even though we wouldn’t get to fly the birds, it would still fulfill our club challenge and game if we at least visited the center.

The road to the falcon conservation center was long and winding. Again, I feared for my life as Nicole seemingly drove us off the road. The last straight stretch of road, before our final turn, was completely filled with construction vehicles and demolition.

“Hopefully they’re widening the road,” all four of us chanced to say at nearly the same time as we physically leaned in as if it would keep us on the road. The falcon center seemed empty when we pulled in, but we headed to the front office building anyway.

At the front desk there was a pleasant, elderly woman. “Where are you all from?” She asked in a voice confirming that, yes, she was as pleasant as she looked.

“Oregon,” said Randi.

“USA,” said Nicole.

“If you know where that is,” I added.

“Of course I do!” She exclaimed, her eyes widening one excitement. “The Oregon Trail!”

And that one little comment just lit all of us up with excitement! It was so refreshing to not only meet someone who would talk to us, but also knew something about where we call home.

The very first bird we saw, going through the conservation, which was open for a small fee, was Lilly - a white parrot of sorts. She was the best greeter for an aviary and was stationed perfectly for just such a job.

“Hello!” She would sing at you before using her beak and claws to deftly swing up to eye level.

“Hello!” She said excitedly again. I was flattered that she seemed entranced to chat with me, waving her head and pointing one foot at me.

“Okay Disney princess!” Randi said with a friendly laugh and eye roll.

“This always happens,” Nicole explained, semi-dramatically, but in good humor. We both know she isn’t wrong.

Then Lilly saw Warren Clayon and she abruptly left her post in front of me to get a closer look at him with his cowboy hat and polarized red sunglasses. If I may be a Disney Princess, than Warren Clayton would be the ultimate Disney King as every bird in the entire conservation was beyond entranced with him. A scenario that was synonymous to most people and specifically the ladies of Great Britain, they were unaccustomed to the sight of an American cowboy and all the stereotypical romantics of the old west is still alive and well in our parent country.

The conservatory was home to all sorts of birds of prey, from falcons to owls, eagles to vultures. In a situation similar to the Loupe family of Louisiana, I couldn’t help but feel as if we were in somebody’s glorified backyard. Signs of “PRIVATE” by a horse stable and a playground confirmed those suspicions for me.

At the far end of the conservatory was a grassy meadow of sorts with a sign labeling it as the “Flying Field.” More signage stated the times that they would be flying birds and, after confirming that they were accurate, we decided to hang tight for a half hour to see the falconer (?), Jamie, fly some birds.

It seemed like a long wait as the walk through the centre didn’t take very long so, utilizing our childlike imagination for fun, Warren Clayton, Randi, and I had “boat races,” while Nicole played on her phone. The “boat races” were quite simply judged heats of whose twig could make it down the creek the fastest. We may have done about five heats with a lot of competitive yelling and cheering, as we waited.

Unceremoniously, with no announcement of fanfare, Jamie came slouching through the conservatory with the cutest little chirping owl on his arm. Gizmo, a 17 and a half week old horned owl, was a baby that he had hatched and hand-reared. He explained that this was only their second day flying, as they had to take time off due to the road construction leading up to the conservatory.

I immediately felt some sort of guilt over the tone of Jamie’s voice as he mentioned the construction, his tone obviously reflecting a disdain for the situation as he explained that they were widening the road. Our entire cars first reaction was “Thank God,” but it was obvious that there was a lot more politics at play. The widening of the road meant forest removal. That habitat removal was shaking up the entire ecosystem and habitat of the areas.

While the birds themselves don’t live there, other birds and animals do, Jamie explained to us. The noise, change in scenery, etc. had been the reason that Jamie hadn’t been flying as the birds were confused and scared when they were brought out to the flying pitch. This caused some of his birds to even fly away (don’t worry, he had GPS tracking on them).

I took plenty of pictures and videos of flying Gizmo, but the second Jamie asked if one of us wanted to try, I jumped at the chance, throwing my hand in the air and exclaiming, “Me!”

That is how I got to be the first one to fly Gizmo! A horned owl, he was so light and cute! Randi and Nicole each got to jump in and fly him to and from the perches in the field.

Being an introvert, I worried Warren Clayton wouldn’t speak up to have a chance. He had been snapping pictures nonstop, an action that I took to being a sign that he was interested, so I practically forced him into trying his hand with the owl.

This was where we learned some cool language history.

The Term: Fed Up

Did you know that the term “fed up” is an old falconry term? The only way that you can get the birds to fly is by motivating them with food. Well, when they’ve had enough to eat, their bellies are full, they become “fed up” or “done” slash “disinterested” with what they are doing.

When Warren Clayton went to fly Gizmo, the little owl had decided he was “fed up” with the activity and resolutely sat on his perch, refusing to move. A little mad at myself for not making Warren Clayton get in their sooner, I was relieved when Jamie returned from depositing Gizmo back in his pen with Buzz.

I hadn’t known if they would fly more than one bird, but Buzz got the call and he was DEFINITELY more of Warren Clayton’s type of bird. Where Gizmo was small and petite - the polly pocket of birds, Buzz was large and intimidating. Some sort of ten year old Eurasian owl and about two feel tall with old man eyebrows, Buzz gave the impression that he was a man’s man and he knew what he was doing. Gizmo’s attention grabbing sound was a cheerful whistle, Buzz’s was a deep “whoo-whoo.” We would later adopt Buzz’s owl noise call to find the rest of our group or get their attention for the remainder of the trip whenever we were in crowds.

The third bird that Jamie brought out was a peregrine falcon named Merlin. Merlin was a bird that would have been used for types of hunting in the old days.

Looking back at my camera, I was really impressed with some of the pictures that I got! I was saddened that I didn’t really get any good, high quality ones of me. My goal had been to get great photos of my Kimes Jeans in the UK so I could focus the trip in my latest blog for the company.

Knowing both that we had a long drive in front of us and that I barely got any sleep, I made the call to switch places with Warren Clayton. Nicole had been relying on me heavily to navigate and there was no way I was going to be able to do my co-pilot job with how drowsy I was.

Nestling into the back bucket seat, I am pretty sure I was fast asleep within thirty seconds. I had hope that, when I woke, my budding headache I had coming on would go away.