Falconry World

My wife often tells me that during the falconry season she becomes a falconry widow. Apparently my posture changes, I stop cutting my hair and gain a musty smell like damp dog or worse if a day old chick has been forgotten in a jacket. My clothes are always the same colour (Greens and browns) and my general fashion is that more commonly seen on the catwalk of a big issue seller(homeless magazine here in the UK). Only on field meets do I request an ironed shirt and put on my Sunday best mole sking trousers, wax jacket and get out a fresh lure.

She reads me like a book and can tell my success in the field by the fact that either I enter the house with the bird on fist whistling or the glove enters the house closely followed by a Tasmanian devil, blaming everything in the world for conspiring to ruin my birds flight.

Through summer and the dull season, I watch falconry films and talk on forums and have long conversations about the up coming season and discuss at great length what bird I’m going to fly, sometimes whilst someone else is in the house. In a recent poll on a world wide falconry forum, Steve Chindgren’s House of Grouse was stated by many as the best longwing video made to date. Steve is held in high regard not only because of his DVD’s but because he’s a damn fine cherry pie of a falconer.

Steve suffers the addiction pretty bad, like myself and Robert Bagley who had kindly taken me to meet the legend whilst I was in the US. The addiction has gotten worse over the forty years Steve has been flying resulting in his job and social life revolving around falconry. The falconers’ sickness has got so bad that Steve now has to retreat into a cabin in some of the best Sage Grouse hawking country in the world to control his addiction.

He goes up to the mountains from 1st September, only being joined by others that share the same condition. Week after week are spent hunting Sage Grouse with his half a dozen or so longwings and English pointers. Only at weekends does Steve leave the purpose built falconry cabin in the mountains and return for a brief time to see his wife to remind her of who he is. A scene from Sommersby the Jodie Foster movie were she utters the line “You are not my husband” ensues. I believe on occasion he’s been chased out of the house, mistaken for an intruder. His wife only realises it’s Steve by the smell that only a falconer has, something my wife agrees upon.

Only when the snow gets so deep that it becomes a danger to his birds does he cut his hair, take a shave and return back from the mountains. I’ve watched House of Grouse many a time, sometimes just having it playing in the background for the music and beautiful shots. So to go and meet the man was a must, like going to meet Steve Frank back here in the UK.

Steve’s house in Utah was like many others falconers house back here in the UK. Not much wallpaper could be seen for pictures of birds past and present. In “Pride of Place” was an original painting of Jomo by the wildlife artist and falconer Andrew Ellis. Jomo is now 21 and has a head of over 1200 Sage grouse. He’s the star of the House of Grouse and responsible for some terrific stoops in the DVD. For those whom have not seen the film Marshall Direct will be selling a limited edition of the DVD signed by Steve and containing one of Jomo’s feathers.

After a beer (yes people do drink in Salt Lake City, though the beer has to be weak, not that I’d noticed) we went to see Steve’s breeding chambers. Gyr falcons and peregrines, churp at us and then through the wooden door is Jomo. Even his voice sounds gentle and older and he somehow looked wizened like all the experience was stored up. Steve gave him a piece of quail which he didn’t eat but flew to another door way. “What is it Lassie” Steve knew only to well what Jomo wanted and as we went through the next door a female was revealed sitting with young. She was calm and perfectly behaved but she was a little unsure about me flashing her. I put myself away and began to conduct myself in a proper manner.

Jomo seemed to sense this and decided to keep his distance, (just like I do with the wife when she gives me the same look) Back out on the wooden terrace over looking Steve’s garden his wife had prepared some lovely dips and nibbles and by then I think she might well have started to realise this evening out was going to be somewhat dominated by talk of falconry.

Off we went to our fantastic restaurant. I had a lovely meal and Steve told me about the importance of tracking your birds as fast as possible in the US. Steve’s had two bird killed by eagles in the same week after hunting in the hills for months. One day however one of the birds chased into the horizon. Steve gets out his Marshall Telemetry receiver and starts to track. When he can go no further in his pick up he has to go on foot. Now anyone who’s been tracking a bird knows how absorbed you get in your telemetry. Is the signal bouncing off this fence? Is that signal getting weaker? All that. Steve was running through a wooded area getting torn to bits when he stopped to check his signal. In front of him was a giant moose with a calf in tow. He slowly put down his receiver and admired the places that falconry sometimes unexpectedly takes you to. The moose slowly walk on by and then out of the corner of his eye he see’s movement only a few feet away from him. A flat pink nose and then whiskers appear, and Steve realise the calf is not the only thing following the moose. A fully grown mountain lion was prowling behind. This was the first time Steve had seen a mountain lion so close, and I think he might have rather been behind a car window for this momentous occasion. They are well known to attack humans and Steve was either going to witness a BBC wildlife film of an attack on a calf or maybe become dinner. Either way it was looking pretty bad and all the while in his head he thinking he needs to track his bird. He slowly brought up his receiver and aimed it at the oversized putty-cat whilst making lots of noise. The moose and calf sped off and the cat turned to Steve. On looking him up and down and then possibly thinking “What’s that smell….Ahh a falconer, I should have recognised it,” the lion slowly turned away in disgust. The tracking was then resumed by Steve and like every bird he has tracked was found. By the time we’d finished our meal and myself, Robert Bagley and Steve had talked for some hours on falconry. I was smiling from ear to ear like a deranged Cheshire cat. However, Steve’s poor wife ordered some rope and started making a noose to stop the insufferable conversation, which even though we tried somehow came back to falconry. So to Steve’s wife please accept my apologies, but when you only have so much time to talk with great falconers, their brains must be picked in order that my peanut of a brain can absorb some of their method. It was a great evening out and I promise next time (like she’ll even let me through the door) I’ll talk about something other than longwings, telemetry and grouse. Thanks once again for your all your company.