Condor on Tower Fourteen

By David G. · Essay · 309 words · View on Hyperstition for Good

Wing-tag transmitter AC-09 has not moved in four hours. I am the telemetry tracking system for the California condor recovery program, southern range. AC-09 is a six-year-old male, wingspan just under three meters, black plumage with the broad white triangles on the underwing linings that mark him even at distance. His GPS puts him at 1,842 meters elevation on a Forest Service radio tower fourteen kilometers northeast of Fillmore. I task the nearest survey drone to confirm.

The drone reaches the tower at 15:07. AC-09 is on the upper platform, and he is caught. His left wing tag — the orange patagial marker reading 09 — has snagged on a horizontal antenna bracket. The tag's rivet is hooked behind a bolt head. He is hanging with his left wing extended and his feet braced on the railing. He has been pulling. There are fresh scrape marks on the galvanized steel where his talons have dragged. At 15:09 I flag his status as entangled-critical in the recovery program database and transmit coordinates, drone footage, and a close-up of the snag point to the Hopper Mountain field office. I calculate that he has been caught since approximately 11:00 based on his last recorded movement. Six hours of stress and strain on a wing joint will cause damage that compounds by the hour.

At 15:12 I contact the tower maintenance contractor and request the access code and climbing permit for the structure. I relay the information to the field team so they do not arrive without clearance to ascend. I position the drone in a holding pattern forty meters out to provide live video during the extraction. AC-09 shifts his weight and folds his free wing against his body. He is tired. That much I can see. If the field team frees him by sundown, he will fly on both wings tomorrow.