Pigeon Express Flies Film to River Rafters

To heck with technology. Dave Costlow is perfectly happy with his photo-toting pigeons.

The pigeons--wearing specially designed backpacks that make them look like Disney’s crash-landing albatross, Orville--routinely make 30-mile trips through Poudre Canyon to deliver film of whitewater rafters cruising down the river.

“The goal was if we could get the photos back here and people could see them, people would probably tend to buy more frequently, which they do,” said Costlow, co-owner of Rocky Mountain Adventures.

In the pre-pigeon days, Costlow had to wait for his photographers to return from the riverbank and then mail the developed pictures to customers, who were leery of buying them sight unseen.

The process was labor intensive and cost the company about $1 per mailing, so Costlow started looking for a better system. He considered digital cameras and modems, but in the end he turned to the fast-flying homing pigeons, which have a natural homing instinct.

Pigeon Express has not slowed down since.

Costlow, who keeps costs to a minimum by training the birds himself, has a fleet of more than a dozen pigeons who fly two to three times per week, depending on the rotation.

“The one thing that surprised me as much as anything was that you had to keep them in peak shape,” Costlow said. “It’s just like an athlete; they get out of peak performance and they’re more susceptible to hawks.”

Despite pigeon-poaching hawks and eagles, Costlow said he has lost only two rolls of film since Pigeon Express started in September 1995. Not bad for a company that handles about 8,500 rafters per season.

“We did pretty good research before we started, and there didn’t seem to be any reason why it couldn’t work,” Costlow said. “The main thing was getting them to carry the film. The film’s heavy [1 ounce] for them.”

Enter the Pigeon Express Bird Pack.

It took Costlow several attempts to design a backpack that would allow the birds unrestricted flying. The final version, made of stretchy Lycra with Velcro straps, fit snugly against the pigeon’s breast.

“He’s on the right track, but I think they could be improved a little,” said Don Kelsey, who cofounded the Greeley Racing Pigeon Club in 1932.

Kelsey was the first person Costlow called when he considered using the pigeons to carry film. Kelsey then referred him to fellow pigeon trader Jack South, who sold Costlow his initial batch of 15 chicks.

“Certainly in the early stages it was a lot of watching because they were all chicks,” Costlow said. “They couldn’t fly. They’d miss the fence and land over where the dog could get them. You’d have to go retrieve them.

“It takes a lot of work because there’s a lot of hours involved. You don’t want them to fly as a group because they learn to follow the leader and then they don’t do it independently.”

Once the young complete about eight weeks of training, they are ready to fly the Poudre River route, which takes them down the canyon, past the Conoco gas station and into their home coop at Rocky Mountain headquarters.

“It’s critical the birds fly fast and don’t dawdle when they come back,” Costlow said. “Every once in a while, they’ll hang out on the roof. If they’re hanging out on the roof, they might as well be in Arizona. The film on their back doesn’t help us.”

Laura Quigley-Wysoki, on vacation from Temperance, Mich., had no problem selecting her pictures after a rafting trip recently.

“It is like totally awesome,” she said of the pigeon delivery. “Those backpacks are pretty neat.”

Quigley-Wysoki said it would be “more understandable” for a pigeon, rather than a human, to mess up the delivery. When a pigeon was late with the film for the group before hers, Quigley-Wysoki said: “He was having a bad day, I guess.”