Condors Hang Out With Gliders Over the Valley

A California condor sighting may be rare for those on the ground, but for the daring few hang gliders who rode a coiling wind a mile above the San Fernando Valley floor Tuesday, the birds became partners.

One of the condors, which are the biggest birds in North America, came within 10 feet of a glider. He could read the number placed on its wing by the conservationists who raised it in captivity.

“I’m here every day, but it seems more special when the condors fly with us,” said “Hungary Joe” Szalai. “Even the crows fly better than us; we’re just imitating them. And the condors still think it worth coming down to fly with us.”

The day before, three condors joined gliders with the Sylmar Hang Gliding Assn., riding hot air currents, called thermals, high above the northeast Valley.

The gliders--including a flight instructor, a stunt man and a rock musician--returned, hoping for another brush with the California vulture that nearly became extinct 20 years ago.

They didn’t have to wait long. As Jim Macklow, a Simi Valley computer consultant, floated on parasail from peak to peak in the San Gabriel Mountains, California condor No. 14 swooped to within 6 feet of his chute.

The bird startled Macklow at first. He dipped his right side and No. 14 dipped to the right. He curled in the edges of his chute. No. 14 curled in his wingtips.

“I was worried he’d get tangled in my cords,” Macklow said. “I could see the headline now: ‘Last Condor in L.A. Killed by Jim Macklow.’”

The birds probably nest at the condor sanctuary in the Ventura County portion of Los Padres National Forest and visit Los Angeles occasionally, said Susie Kasielke, curator of birds at the Los Angeles Zoo. No. 14 is 2 or 3 years old, bred in either the Los Angeles Zoo or San Diego Wild Animal Park, she said.

“Older birds spend most of their time seeking and defending nests, mostly in Ventura County,” Kasielke said. “Only the younger birds have time to soar around Los Angeles looking for food.”

Condors find the thermal currents they need by watching other gliders, Kasielke said, which could explain their affinity for hang gliders.

The skies were busy as hang gliders and condor circled each other. Jets banked into Burbank Airport, cutting off the flight path to the south.

Meanwhile, two fighter jets practiced for the Dodgers’ opening day, a Sheriff’s Department helicopter landed on a nearby ridge and private planes headed in and out of Whiteman Airport.

There are only 182 California condors in the world: 101 in captivity, 62 in the wild and 19 in facilities awaiting release into the wild, Kasielke said. But the numbers are up from 21 birds in the early 1980s, when conservationists began breeding them in zoos and returning them to their natural habitat.

They fly as fast as 55 mph and as far as 300 miles a day.

None of the gliders has figured out why the reclusive condors come so close to humans, but one who identified himself only as Jellyfish offered a theory.

“All we’ve seen are condors with even numbers, meaning they’re males,” said Jellyfish, a nuclear power plant worker. “They’re getting a close look at our wings to look for odd numbers.”