El condor pasa

My brand-new car really needed its first proper road trip, so after work today I took it down to Pinnacles National Monument, near Soledad, Calif. The forecast called for 80-degree temperatures, but it sure seemed hotter in the sun. Our chosen hike proved to be somewhat more strenuous than anticipated too. There were only two cars in the parking lot, and we never saw anyone else on the trail. I guess few people find hiking in the Gabilans appealing in July.

But any difficulties we encountered were mere trifles, because during a water break in the shade about two-thirds of the way up to the High Peaks, my friend Steve called my attention to what was above us, something that redeemed the entire strenuous afternoon.

There must have been a dozen turkey vultures circling above -- pretty big birds, with wingspans up to six feet. And then the first California condor emerged from behind a rock and began to glide overhead. And then another. And then two more. To our astonishment, they continued to circle near us, swinging lower and lower with each pass around the rock that was lending us its shade. We were completely awestruck, so much so that I forgot to zoom the camera for all but one of the photos I snapped. The best one is above, taken on the final pass, when one of the condors swooped down perhaps thirty feet above us. I can't say exactly how big it was, but the reports of a nine-and-a-half-foot wingspan seem pretty accurate.

The coolest part was the sound. I don't know if condors make a low-pitched sound with their voices, or whether I heard that bird's nine-and-a-half-foot wings slicing through the air. But I certainly heard a low whoosh when it passed. It could have been an owl-like hoot, but I suspect it was the wings colliding with the air. They didn't ever really seem to flap their wings -- they'd just glide. I guess when you have a nine-and-a-half-foot wingspan you don't need to flap that often. Once or twice ought to get you plenty of mileage.

Apparently the Park Service introduced six condors to Pinnacles last fall, and plans to free another group in a few weeks. They are among about 200 currently living in the wild, up from roughly 25 in 1982. Seeing four at once? Pretty rare, I'd imagine, and unheard-of just a few years ago.

UPDATE: More here. It says there were only nine wild condors in 1987. Wow.