Wildlife, sport and activities, sometimes all at once

(Editor's Note: This story first appeared in the November 2003 issue of Mammoth Monthly magazine. Subscribe here.)

Seriously, now. Who isn't fascinated by the owls of the High Sierra, hiding in their snags and winter nests, usually emerging only under cover of night? Who? Who? Who, who-who?

"Owls are really great," said U.S. Forest Service wildlife biologist Richard Perloff, making a pun on the ubiquitous Great Horned Owl (Bubo virginianus). "Everything about them is great, but in this time of the year, what I like most is their ability to survive during the winter. Oh -- and their silent flight. And their hearing."

Cindy Kamler, director of Eastern Sierra Wildlife Care, said she's a big fan of owls, too, conceding that owls are not appreciated universally.

"Some people think of owls in terms that are really negative," she said. "There's a lot of mythology about them -- myths that link owls with evil, as well as the wise owl. A lot of Native Americans, for example, think of owls as messengers of death, or bad news.

"But they play a critical part in the environment in keeping a balance in the rodent population."

So mysterious and alluring are these birds of prey that when scientists at Mammoth's Valentine Reserve last summer initiated a series of dusk "Owl Prowls," the sessions filled up rapidly with people eager to see them.

"People just don't see owls because you have to be out at dark or at dusk, and people don't go out in nature that time of day," Kamler said. "It's great if you do, though."

But even being at the edge of a meadow or clearing -- the Great Horned Owl's favorite hunting environment -- doesn't guarantee that you'll see or hear anything.

In addition to having superior hearing -- they can hear sounds 10 times fainter than the human ear can detect, according to Forest Service literature -- their wing structure guarantees them silent flight, which is good for them, bad for rodents.

Their silent flight is achieved thanks to a structural modification of the first primary feather on each wing. This feather is serrated, while it is smooth on the wings of most other birds. Because of the serrated edge of the wing, when an owl takes flight, air that otherwise would be trapped under the wing and would create that familiar fluttering sound, is negated.

This is bad news for the voles, squirrels, insects and other birds (chickadees and Clark's Nutcracker, for example) that supply the owl with food.

The question, then, is what do owls do in winter?

Perloff and Kamler said that the owl's hearing is so superior it can hear its prey under snow, so there's not a big problem.

"They'll certainly be challenged in the winter," Perloff said, "but they have the ability to draw a two-dimensional picture of the world through their ears."

Said Kamler: "They can detect the rustle of an animal through the leaves or grass or gravel or whatever they're moving along. That's all they need to hear. They don't need to hear squeaking or anything like that."

So if you're in the mood for an owl prowl, pick dawn or dusk, at a spot near an open space, such as a meadow. If you're looking for an owl at roost, look up into dead trees, or snags, and just because it looks like a hawk's nest, it does not mean that an owl isn't in there.

Listen for the familiar "Who" call, "a series of three to eight loud, deep hoots, the second and third hoots often short and rapid," according to the National Geographic Field Guide to the Birds of North America. And hope for lots and lots of luck.

"Their flight is almost completely silent," Kamler said, "so unless they're flying right over your head, you wouldn't hear anything. You might hear the prey scream, or something like that."