Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Connecting with Wildlife Everywhere I Go


Sorry about the lapse in time between posts. The amount reading has escalated from day 1. I am busily trying to catch up, since I was informed of my acceptance only two weeks before classes started. Other students had an entire summer to read up on their area of study, whereas I began to read during the confusion of moving to a new country in one week, and during the hectic atmosphere of transitioning to a new life. I am ever learning, and despite how I feel sometimes I know that I am on track to meet the general deadlines of a master’s student as well as produce a cogent thesis. 
One of my classmates has picked up falconry over the past few years and, hearing how I’ve worked with birds of prey, invited me out to participate in a hunt. While she is from Ontario and just moved into the area for a master’s program, she had made contacts with local falconers.  Late Saturday afternoon we made our way to the home of Dr. Lynn Oliphant, a retired professor of wildlife anatomy and renowned falconer. Lynn, with a few other guys, practically pioneered the methods for peregrine recovery in Saskatchewan and even worked with the University of Minnesota, sharing their methods for falcon recovery in the Midwest U.S. Lynn also lives with his wife in a beautiful straw bale house and started an eco-community about an hour south of Saskatoon. In short, he’s a pretty cool dude. Lastly, Lynn has three gorgeous Munsterlanders, which are a little known German hunting breed known for their intelligence and obedience.
            We drove looking for good ponds to fly the birds around. A good pond was defined as having not too many reeds and being smallish. You want to minimize the opportunity for the ducks to hide, thus maximizing the chance that they will go airborne. If the pond is big then the ducks can quickly fly or swim to other parts of the pond. If there are too many reeds, they can simply hide. If the pond is just right, the dogs can flush them out into the sky.
            Lynn brought along two inexperienced peregrines; a male juvenile and a female. He flew the male first. He let go of the jesses and the falcon opened its wings, flapped them into the wind and took off. The falcon rode the wind higher and higher until it could comfortably soar and watch the ground. We got closer to the pond and Lynn yelled, “Flush!” The dogs took off and surrounded the pond, barking. Water splattered as duck wings battered the water. The ducks rose off of the pond in frenzied confusion and the falcon darted out of the sky. In an instant it singled out a duck and closed the gap. At the last second, the duck pivoted in the air and dipped under the falcons talons. The duck made a quick turn and plummeted, crashing back into the water where the falcon abandoned pursuit.
            It was a failed attempt. Lynn said it was experiences like those that teach the falcons how to hunt with him and the dogs. He said that the falcon was out of position, that he had let himself drift too far and that when the ducks flew the distance was further than it should have been had the falcon been keen to the position of the dogs. Lynn said the falcons quickly learn the significance of the dogs and to watch for their movements towards the ponds.
            The female fared slightly better. She made contact with her quarry but failed to injure it enough to drop it out of the sky. The duck made it back to the water where the dogs swam it down.  Lynn tossed a wing of a bird to the female falcon that he had ripped with his bare hands earlier, which reminded me that it wasn’t that weird when I didn’t use gloves to rip of little bits of quail for training Horus, the peregrine at the Cleveland Museum of Natural History.
            Also, we made some friends who had us over for a dinner party on Friday. Two of their friends showed up with an appetizer of mini buckwheat pancakes topped with salmon and crème fraiche. Oh, and you had to eat it while taking a shot of vodka. It was in the recipe, they claimed. We came to a consensus that the vodka should not be in the recipe. Then we made jokes about Canadians chucking beavers. Many different kinds of wildlife.

Not in Kansas Anymore/Continued Humble Beginnings



The past few weeks have been eventful and, well, humbling. From the psychological perspective, Lizzie and I have been reshuffled into the modest life of the student. We have come to terms with the sobering fact that our parents are no longer stocking the refrigerator, since we are no longer living at home. That organic produce I had gotten so morally used to eating…gone. The fanciful array of cheeses…nope, too expensive. Shit, we can’t even afford grated parmesan. (As an anecdotal note, a regular-sized Kraft parmesan cheese is 7.99 here.) This, however, is mostly due to the outrageous cost of food in Canada. Every food item is 20-30% more expensive here. Are you ready for this? Cell phone plans: a voicemail and caller ID package is extra. $12/month extra. I know. Lizzie and I decided to try it for a month without it. Every call comes up as unknown, the phone does not store the number so you can’t call the unknown number back, and the unknown caller can’t leave a message. Even if you have the number stored in your phone as a contact it comes up as unknown when they call. They have your balls vice-gripped into a system where you have no choice but to pay for all of the “extra” features. It’s crazy. That is the end of my pecuniary rant.
Saskatoon is a beautiful city. The South Saskatchewan River flows north through the city, providing a perfect place to walk, run, bike, or sit and relax after long days of classes and readings. The University of Saskatchewan’s campus has been voted most beautiful in Canada multiple times. They have done a phenomenal job matching new construction to look like the older semi-gothic style architecture. My building is a smaller yellow brick building from the 40’s that has almost been completely swallowed by new additions to the agriculture college. But it is home. I even have an office, well, I share an office with three other students, but it gives me a sense of place.
Saskatoon has fewer things to do than in say, Chicago, but plenty to keep a busy graduate student busier. A few weeks ago Lizzie and I went to Strawberry Ranch. Every year, this farm plants a few acres of corn in a differently shaped maze.  The goal is to find your way through, a task made tough by the thick corn stalks that are several feet taller than your head. I felt like I was in Harry Potter 4 looking for the Triwizard Cup. It took us nearly two hours to get through. This mostly had to do with the fact that we had to find the three hole punches hidden deep within the maze. Before entering the maze, a woman told us we would get a prize for punching our ticket with the three different hole punches. We had to find them.
There were three best parts about the excursion. First, we got out of that God forsaken apartment. Second, we encountered Saskatoon berry pie. The Saskatoon berry looks much like a blueberry, but tastes like a combination of a blueberry and cranberry. It is synonymous with a serviceberry, if you have had one of those. It makes a phenomenal pie. Thirdly, I encountered a red fox. Lizzie and I were deciding which path to take to find the third and final hole puncher, when I saw a leg and tail slink past at the end of the row. After a bit of stalking, I found the fox at the end of another row about 15 feet away with nothing between us. I crouched, he sat, and we stared at each other for a good 30 seconds before a noise from another couple tramping through the maze scared him off. Definitely worth the price of admission.