Sometimes it takes, as they say, a village to save a species, and such is the case with the US comeback of the little aplomado falcon. Up until the 1930s, the aplomado falcon was considered fairly common in coastal Texas and across parts of the Southwest. This medium-size falcon is about two or three times the size of the more familiar American kestrel. It gets its common name from the Spanish word plomo, meaning “lead-colored,” the color of the adult’s back and wings. The word falcon is derived from the Latin falcate, meaning “hooked,” as in hooked beak.
Their habitat consists of open arid grasslands where tall cacti, yuccas, pines, and oaks grow in open stands. Changing land use, habitat loss, pesticide use, egg and skin collecting, and climate change have been speculated as causing the complete disappearance of the northern population of aplomados in the United States by the middle of the twentieth century.
In 1993, the Peregrine Fund, lead by Bill Burnham and Peter Jenny, began the reintroduction of aplomados in southern Texas. Captive breeding the birds at the Peregrine Fund’s World Center for Birds of Prey in Boise, Idaho, this reestablishment program has been a tremendous success. More than 1,393 falcons have been released in the last decade, and the southern Texas population is now believed to be self-sustaining with forty-four pairs of falcons nesting in the wild. As a result, efforts are under way in other regions, including the trans-Pecos region of West Texas and the bird’s northern range of New Mexico.
Releasing captive-bred birds is much more complex than it may sound. Among the issues involved are politics, government agencies (which tightly control endangered species), funding, the research needed to know if releases will succeed, and the need for exactly the right land—and lots of it.
Enter an alliance comprising a spectrum wide enough to be worthy of the Wild West of old. In addition to the usual players like the US Fish and Wildlife Service and the Peregrine Fund, the ranch deemed most appropriate for release sites is owned by the legendary Ted Turner. Entrepreneur, cattleman, media mogul, and now bison restaurateur, Turner also owns and has protected more land than any other private citizen in US history.
Ted Turner’s Armendaris Ranch consists of more than 360,000 acres spreading from west to east in south-central New Mexico. The Armendaris is also within the aplomado’s historic range, and meets its pretty specific habitat needs. There, ranch manager Tom Waddell, whose ancestors include generations of western ranchers, holds court over sometimes dozens of biologists, volunteers, and government policy wonks, most of whom clearly aren’t from around those parts. But with a combination of pragmatism and a strong hand, Waddell ensures that everybody stays in line and nobody hassles the falcons—or the workings of the ranch.
In order for captive falcons to be successfully released, the birds have to think and behave like falcons, not people. So great lengths are taken to never let the young birds imprint on people as they grow from hatchling to their release age of forty days. Fortunately, falcons grow up fast. When they hatch, the chicks weigh just over half an ounce, but they are very nearly full grown when released, and by then it is easy to distinguish between the sexes. As with all hawks and eagles, the female falcon is about a third larger than the male. Typically, adult male aplomado falcons weigh about nine ounces; females, up to fourteen.
Before their release, while they are still in captive breeding at the World Center in Boise, the birds are fed by staff and raised in sibling groups in order to prevent imprinting. But with no parents to feed them at the ranch in New Mexico, the fledglings are placed on “hack sites,” where volunteer attendants monitor their progress. Food is hoisted remotely so they don’t grow accustomed to people. However, their troubles are not over. Just as in any wild population of raptors, only a small percentage of young survive to adulthood. This is for a variety of reasons, most relating to competition—not so much with other aplomados as with other predators in the same ecosystem.
Great horned owls will prey on the young before they have even fled the hack site. Other raptors, such as northern harriers, have been documented tormenting the young until they fledge the nest prematurely, leaving them on the ground and easy prey for coyotes. And hack site attendants last year noted an immature peregrine falcon preying on young aplomados. This creates quite a quandary in the emotions and politics of bird conservationists, with one endangered species literally trying to eat another. Thankfully, once the aplomados are mature and up to speed on their flying skills, they are much harder for peregrines to catch than almost any other birds around.
Also, it is important to remember that, as harsh as it sounds, the vast majority of young predators do not make it. It is estimated that up to 50 percent of raptors, even when raised and protected by both parents, do not live to their adult breeding age. But where there is enough habitat, there will be a large prey base. Even with such a highly selective weeding-out process, the species can again thrive.
The Armendaris Ranch is starting slowly with eleven birds whose movements and use of the habitat will be closely monitored. In 2007, there was exciting news: A pair of subadults from the first 2006 generation returned to Armendaris and actually parented two young aplomados, who fledged on the ranch. This was the first documented case of a pair of one-year-old birds successfully breeding in the wild. With steady annual releases of captive-bred aplomados, this little symbol of the real Wild West can again thrive on the open savanna.
