How can you not like a place where you can order cullen skink and Dalchonzie tart at dinner, have a stare-down with a falcon and discover that you weigh in the single digits?*
I was in Scotland last week reveling in the Scottishness of it all, starting at the The Gleneagles Hotel. Gleneagles is hosting the Ryder Cup in 2014, exciting news for golf aficionados.
The baggage carousel at Glasgow Airport is to golf bags as Denver's baggage carousel is to ski bags. Every other piece of luggage was an odd-shaped case containing clubs.
Not being a golfer - except the kind where you rent a single club and putt through 18 Astroturf holes - I was more interested in the country pursuits offered.
Falconry, the "sport of kings," is actually the sport of hunting. Instead of using a gun, or a bow and arrow, hunters go into the wild with a raptor that catches small game. Rabbits. Squirrels. Other small, edible animals.
In Hershey, Pennsylvania, you can do falconry, but without the bloodletting. Basically, you watch a demonstration with fake prey and you get to call to a Harris' hawk and watch it swoop in on you and land gently on your hand. Sans small animal in beak.
(Some of you may remember I did falconry once before.)
Below is Kristin Smith-Simon, who was in my group of "falconers."
This next video shows that even a young 'un can participate, although the minimum age is 8. That's Darius Robinson with falconer Jack Hubley.
Last time I was at Hershey, a substitute falconer ran the program. He did just fine. But he didn't do the final act that Jack Hubley, the regular falconer did. Which was to have a hawk fly between two lines of people.
Probably because there weren't enough people that first time I went. There were only a handful of us. This time, I was in a group of 11.
Hubley told us that hawks can squeeze themselves tight temporarily, wings to body, to get through crevasses and other small spots to reach their prey. We got a small taste of that as the hawk flew through our lines and brushed us with his wings.
(Falconry is a nice solo travel experience for social people because you will be with other people oohing and aahing together. Hm. "Social solos?" Have I coined a phrase?)
We here at Boldly Go Solo (we being me) are just bursting with delight over learning that this very blog was awarded top honors by the Society of American Travel Writers' Atlantic Caribbean Chapter.
On a related note, I just learned about a new book called Brag!: The Art of Tooting Your Own Horn without Blowing It.
Unfortunately, I haven't read it yet. So if I'm bragging and blowing it, I apologize. I'll get the hang of it as soon as I get the book.
On a perch some 45 feet away from where I stand, Thunder awaits my call. "Hey, Thunder." At that, the Harris's hawk swoops in to land on my gloved hand. He's not there to socialize. The tasty bits of raw mouse and quail squeezed between my thumb and forefinger are the enticement for the visit.
And falconry was the enticement for MY visit to Hershey for The Falconry Experience by The Hotel Hershey. I traveled to Pennsylvania solo, with the idea of trying some aspect of the ancient "sport of kings."
Once Thunder's standing on my hand, I'm able to watch up close as his sharp beak dips down and he grabs his treat. I feel the tug of his talons, digging in for stability as he eats. Soon he's done. He takes a few steps and turns, eyeballing that perch in the distance. And off he flies.
One other guest was with me in the field. We took turns calling Thunder in for a landing. It was a gorgeous sunny day and a little surreal to be that close to a majestic raptor. So similar to those I often see circling high in the sky, looking for prey.
Bob Leonard, the falconer that day, taught the two of us the proper way to await a personal hawk landing. You stand sideways, arm straight out and ensconced in heavy leather. You don't want a bird with a sharp beak flying into your face by accident. Or landing on bare skin.
In the two hours of falconry, we got to touch Thunder's chest and wing feathers while he perched on Bob's hand. And visit with several other hawks and a peregrine falcon housed inside chicken wire on the green field.
Recent Comments