Nest entry: Tom’s Canyon, August 6, 2025, 120 day old chick health check/tagging- SB #1346
Retiring in November of 2024 was truly overwhelming as I was about to leave behind a life that defined who I was for the last 30 years. You’ve heard the term “eat, sleep, and breathe?” That is exactly what my team and I did. Condors were not just a job, but a life experience. There were phone calls, texts, emails, photo sharing before, after work, and on our days off. The condor team I worked with truly lived for saving the California condor.
Needing something to fill that void, I decided to dedicate more time to our herding business here at our ranch that I operate with my husband. However, what do you do with the skills you developed in 30 years of working to save the California condor from near extinction?
In an effort to feel like I could still contribute something to the program, I offered to help USFWS and others involved in the recovery program whenever they might need assistance. Shortly after, I was contacted by USFWS to assist in the handling of a 120 day old chick in Ventura County. Handling a chick of this age requires a degree of expertise to help the process go smoothly, minimizing the chance of injury. Through the years, the USFWS and my team have exchanged training techniques to get into and out of nest sites safely.
Arianna Punzanlan USFWS
Supervisory Wildlife Biologist
Ca Condor Recovery Program
Hopper Mountain NWRC
Molly Murphy
Condor Nest Biologist
Santa Barbara Zoo
My first post-retirement nest visit was scheduled for August 6, 2025. Since condor chicks typically fledge in the fall, nest access unfortunately takes place during the hottest part of summer—before the young are ready to leave. The team stayed overnight at Hopper Mountain National Wildlife Refuge, as we needed to set out before dawn in order to minimize the time spent hiking in the heat.
Awakening at 4:15 a.m., we gathered our supplies and headed to the UTVs (utility task vehicles). With two riders per vehicle, we set out at 5:00, navigating dirt paths in the dark toward the trailhead. The golden grasses had grown as tall as my nose, their stalks alive with large, dark beetles perched on their tips. As we descended the hillside, the long blades bent beneath our feet, slick as ice. Gradually, the golden slopes gave way to bare soil and the hardy chaparral of California—plants rich with aromatic, combustible oils that perfumed the morning air.
After a few hours, we finally arrived at the nest. USFWS biologist, Arianna, looked around the corner from behind a rock outcrop and observed the chick standing below the nest cavity. I suggested we should make our presence known to the chick and then hide out of view. The chick would then seek out the refuge of its nest cavity when it felt safe to do so. With us out of view, the chick began to walk back up the hill. We gave him/her about 3 minutes and sure enough, it was back inside it’s nest. We knew from experience that we could now begin entering the cave and the chick would stay put safely in the dark crevices of its cave nest.
Photo credit: Mike Clark
The team set up anchors and ropes so we could remain safe as we scrambled across the steep cliff face toward the nest. We quickly discussed our roles before clipping into the safety rope. Arianna was going to handle the chick and would go into the nest first, while I was backup and would follow behind her. Molly, from the Santa Barbara Zoo, would follow behind us to do the health check and Kim, a USFWS biologist, would observe as a learning opportunity for future nest entries.
Arianna entered the nest while I observed from outside. I could hear the chick hissing at her—a typical defensive response. I cautioned that it would usually strike three times before retreating deeper into the cave, settling into a threatening stance. I then made my way inside to guide Arianna through the next steps.
Once the chick was safely in hand with a hood on to prevent visual stress, Molly could begin gathering a blood sample, weigh, and place a tag. It was doing everything a normal condor chick does, making it tough to handle, but it remained safe in Arianna hands. We placed the chick off to the side and exited the cave. It’s right wing now has a blue tag with the number “46” – to indicate the last two digits of its studbook number. The chick held its head down, a posture typical while a nest intruder is present, and as we exited the cave, the chick’s posture relaxed as we retreated.
Photo credit: Mike Clark
We collected our gear and began the slow and very difficult ascent from the nest toward our vehicles. The air had become much warmer by now as we were approaching noon. There were some clouds, but they never really did cover the sun for us as we made our way out of the canyon. My thigh muscles burned with each step but we kept a slow and steady pace we could all manage until we arrived back to the UTV’s. This is the time where I can begin a huge sigh of relief after a nest entry. I know that one more California condor is on its way to fledging and increasing the wild population as well as the team having made it out of the canyon safely. I am honored to have been a part of this and many other nest entries in the past. This day allowed me to be where the efforts of my life’s work are flying overhead. I am grateful to have had another moment to assist those that will carry on the work of future condor conservation.
Chandra David
Director
California Condor Alliance
This is my bold
