Resurrecting A Species: The Endangered California Condor

I was born into a world where wild California Condors were a thing of the past - and little more than a dim hope for the future.  

But in the three decades since, California Condors have become the stars of one of the most amazing comeback stories in the history of wildlife conservation, a story filled with controversy, pitting doubt and uncertainty against unwavering hope and perseverance.  

Today, thanks to years of painstaking effort on the part of hundreds, if not thousands, of wildlife biologists and conservationists, we can once again look up into Southwestern skies and see condors soaring above on majestic wings.  

The story, like the birds themselves, inspires.

Male condor 602 hatched at the Los Angeles Zoo in 2011 and was released at Pinnacles in 2013.



During the late Pleistocene, California Condors (Gymnogyps californianus) were widespread across North America.  15,000 years ago, when megafauna like mammoths, mastodons and giant ground sloths ruled the continent alongside camels, bison and horses, the California Condor, with its nearly ten-foot wingspan, was right at home.  After the great megafaunal extinction at the end of the Pleistocene, around 10,000 years ago, the range of the California Condor began to contract with the loss of their main food sources, namely, the carcasses of very large mammals.

At the turn of the 19th century, California Condors still ranged across the American West, from British Columbia to Baja California.  The earliest written record (and sketches) of the condors' discovery comes from the Lewis and Clark expedition.  During the winter of 1805-06, when the Corps of Discovery was encamped at the mouth of the Columbia River, the explorers and naturalists reportedly observed California Condors feeding on a dead whale, washed up on shore, and deduced that because this great bird "flies very clumsily," it must not take live prey but rather scavenge, like other vultures.  And they were right.  The California Condor is a member of the same family, Cathartidae, as New World Vultures.  

Read Merriweather Lewis's full description the California Condor here.

Head of a Vulture (California Condor, Gymnogyps californianus), February 17, 1806, Codex J, p. 80
https://cdrhmedia.unl.edu/images/lewisandclark/full/1806-02-17.01.jpg


As North America's largest bird, the California Condor is a scavenger of the first order!  The carcasses of large marine mammals, washed up on shore, provided a reliable source of food for coastal populations of condors into the 19th century.  However, as California and the Pacific Northwest became increasingly more settled, condors began to disappear.  They were intentionally shot and killed by hunters and ranchers, though as scavengers they pose no threat to livestock, as well as museum collectors.  The birds, which often gather to feed in groups, also died in large numbers after consuming poisoned carcasses that had been set out with the intention of killing predators and perceived threats to livestock, like grizzly bears, mountain lions, wolves and coyotes.  Even more indirectly, condors were poisoned by ingesting lead bullets and fragments left by hunters and ranchers in gut piles and carcasses, a threat that continues into the present.    

The number of condors decreased at an alarming rate through the 1900's and by the mid-20th century, it was apparent that the California Condor, as a species, was in grave danger.  

When the Endangered Species Preservation Act was signed into being in 1966, California Condors were one of the first species to be listed.  By the early 1980's, only around 20 individuals were left in the wild.  Since 1950, a scheme had been repeatedly proposed to capture wild condors and bring them into captivity in order to create a captive breeding program.  This proposal drew criticism and created much controversy; so much so, in fact, that no action was taken for thirty years.  A few wildlife reserves had been set aside for the condors by this time, but it was rapidly becoming apparent that more drastic measures were required if the species was to be saved.  

At last, in 1982, when condors were almost lost, the first wild condors were captured and moved to the Los Angeles and San Diego zoos to begin what would become one of the most incredible and heavily involved efforts to save an endangered species to date.  

Led by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, the California Condor Recovery Program is a joint effort: partners include the National Park Service, U.S. Forest Service, California Department of Fish and Wildlife, Ventana Wildlife Society, and many more organizations and individuals who believed passionately in saving the California Condor from certain extinction.  

Even so, from the program's inception, nobody could be sure what the following decades would hold in store for condors.

Many believed that at least a small breeding population of condors should be left, untouched, in the wild, while their numbers were (hopefully) augmented by captive breeding programs.  This seemed a reasonable middle-ground to many supporters, until the winter of 1985-86, when six wild adult condors died, representing a loss of 40% of the wild population in just a few months.  Only one wild breeding pair remained.  One of the condors that died that winter was an adult female of breeding age, who had succumbed to lead poisoning, and with her loss it became clear that the remaining wild condors could not sustain their ever-dwindling population in the face of such adversity without help.  The decision was made.

On Easter Sunday, 1987, amid much controversy, the last remaining wild California Condor was captured.  Only 27 individuals of the species remained at that time, all of them in zoos.  What's more, at that point in time, not one condor chick had yet been hatched in captivity, much less raised to a releasable age.  

No one knew if the captive breeding program would succeed; many doubted that it would.

And so it was, that when I made my humble little entrance into the world at the tail end of the 1980's, it was into a world that held the sight of free-flying California Condors as a precious memory.  

Female condor 889, "Narcissa," hatched in 2017 at the World Center for Birds of Prey in Idaho and was released along the central California coast near Big Sur in 2019.  It appears she is currently paired with 602 (pictured above) with whom she was soaring at Pinnacles National Park when I took this photo.




Taking the last individual California Condor into the protection of captivity was an act of faith.  At the time, the large birds had not yet successfully bred in captivity, and it was unknown if they even could.  

It was too soon, of course, to consider the project a success, but at last, in 1988, the first condor chick hatched in captivity, a glimmer of hope for a truly wild conservation scheme.  

Biologists quickly learned that the condors' painfully slow reproduction rate of one chick per breeding pair every two or three years could be sped up a little by some careful intervention.  By removing the first egg laid by the pair and hand-rearing the chick, condor pairs could be induced to lay a second egg during the same season, hatching and raising this chick themselves.  This method, known as double-clutching, produced young birds in half the time, and organizations including the Oregon Zoo, and Boise, Idaho's World Center for Birds of Prey were drafted in to help with the captive breeding program.

But even as the program was slowly and cautiously realizing its potential for success, the skies remained devoid of condors.  

For five years, between 1987 and 1992, California Condors were extinct in the wild.  

Female condor 569, "Phoebe the Forager," hatched at the Los Angeles Zoo in 2010 and was released near Big Sur in 2012.



By 1992, California Condor numbers had doubled to just over fifty individuals, and the first of the captive birds were triumphantly released back into the wild near their ancestral home in the mountains of Southern California.  In the decade that followed, condors were reintroduced to the mountains of central California near Big Sur, to Grand Canyon National Park in Arizona, and to Baja, Mexico.  

Incredibly, in 2003, the first wild condor chick hatched at the Grand Canyon, becoming the first condor chick to fledge in the wild in twenty years.  By 2004, the world held 246 of these magnificent birds, with 114 of them free-flying in the wild.

Looking for condors (with success!) at the Grand Canyon in 2019.


Back in April of 1987, on Easter Sunday, the last wild California Condor was captured, brought into captivity, and given the handle AC-9 (which stands for "adult condor number 9," the ninth condor to be tagged).  He was seven years old, right at the beginning of his life as a reproductively mature male, and went on to become an integral part of the captive breeding program at the San Diego Zoo.  For fifteen years, he was carefully monitored and cared for in captivity, fathering numerous chicks, until 2002, when AC-9 was released back into the wild.  Two years later, he fathered a chick which hatched in the wild on the very same day, Easter Sunday, that he had been captured 17 years before.  

There is some beautiful symbolism to be found in AC-9's story, I think, and in the resurrection of his species.  


In the early-to-mid 2000's, while biologists continued successfully with their method of double-clutching, I was struggling with another type of clutch: that found on my dad's car as I learned to drive a stick-shift.  While I was attending homecoming games, earning my drivers' license and applying to college, California Condors were making a slow but steady comeback in a select and precious few wild places.  

While I was "finding my wings," California Condors were rediscovering theirs as well.

In 2013, shortly after I graduated from college, Pinnacles National Monument was promoted to National Park status by the Obama administration, in order to further protect critical habitat for this endangered bird.  Since 2003, Pinnacles has been a release site for condors, since its rugged terrain and unique rock formations provide nesting sites for the massive birds which, in the wild, raise their chicks in cliffside caves, as well as in the broken-off tops of redwood trees found nearby (as the condor flies) in the Big Sur area.

Bear Gulch Reservoir at Pinnacles National Park.
No more than a speck above the ridge in this photo, a California Condor soars over
the rugged landscape.  It is a privilege and a blessing to watch as these giants fill the skies once again.


By early 2020, the world population of California Condors stood at 518, with 337 of those birds free-flying in the wild.  Of those wild birds, around 200 are in California, while about 90 are found in Arizona and Utah, and 40 in Baja, Mexico.  Just under 100 individuals reside in Central California, their range centered around Pinnacles National Park and the Ventana Wilderness near Big Sur.  Their populations are dynamic: Click here for current population numbers.


Even with more wild condors hatching each year, all is not rosy for California Condors.  

In August of 2020, the devastating Dolan Fire destroyed the condor sanctuary in Big Sur, killing eleven birds (nine free-flying adults and two wild chicks in nests) as it burned both roost and nest sites during the night; a twelfth bird later died of injuries sustained in the fire.  This tragic event is the greatest loss sustained by the condor population since release into the wild began in 1992, and a devastating blow to California's condor population.  Though the sanctuary's facilities burned, including all buildings and release pens, no condors were inside the facility when it burned.  Read more about the fire here.

More insidious than wildfires, lead poisoning continues to threaten condors.  Half of all wild condor deaths are attributed to lead poisoning.  Other leading causes of death include natural predation, collisions with powerlines and intentional shooting.  (Why anyone would shoot a condor is absolutely beyond me, since as scavengers they pose no threat to livestock.  But perhaps I'll save that tirade for another day.)  Surprisingly, drowning regularly shows up as a cause of death for condors, which, at 20 pounds, are not designed to float.  If a condor slips into a deep pool of water, or even a shallow but steep-sided watering hole or stock tank, and its feathers become saturated, it is unable to lift its body out of the water and ultimately struggles to the point of exhaustion before ultimately drowning.  Prior to the unprecedented wildfires of 2020, the numbers of condor deaths by fire and drowning were about equal.  (Now, obviously, the data has been skewed a bit.)  Because they are inquisitive birds, condor chicks are often found to have ingested pieces of plastic and other human-generated trash their parents brought to the nest, sometimes with fatal results.

But the statistics are startlingly clear: lead poisoning remains the single greatest threat to the continued recovery of California Condors as a species.  

According to the National Park Service, nearly all of the condors at Pinnacles National Park have undergone emergency treatment for lead poisoning by the time they reach seven years of age.

The primary source of poisoning is the ingestion of lead ammunition that remains in carcasses and gut piles left behind by hunters.  Because lead bullets leave fragments behind on impact, it is nearly impossible to ensure that remains left for scavengers are entirely lead-free.  Click here to learn more about the risks posed to wildlife, as well as humans, by the use of lead bullets.  The good news is, as of July 1, 2019, the use of lead bullets for hunting has been banned in California.  Sadly, the law hasn't entirely affected wholesale change in the attitudes or practices of hunters just yet, but it is certainly a step in the right direction!

Lead poisoning remains the last and largest obstacle preventing California Condors from achieving a sustainable wild population.  And we, as humans and stewards, are entirely responsible.

Another look at "Narcissa," who at only four years old has yet to attain the pinkish-orange coloration of the skin on her head. 
But check out her amazing finger-like pinon feathers!



According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, "The goal of the California Condor Recovery Plan is to establish two geographically distinct self-sustaining populations, each with 150 birds in the wild and at least 15 breeding pairs, with a third population of condors retained in captivity.  As the Recovery Program works toward this goal, the number of release sites has grown.  There are three active release sites in California, one in Arizona and one in Baja, Mexico."

Just last month, in March of 2021, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service announced a partnership with the Yurok Tribe and the National Park Service that will establish a population of wild California Condors in Northern California's Redwood National Park.  Returning the condor to Yurok Ancestral Territory will be the realization of a dream decades in the making.  Known as pregoneesh in the Yurok language,  California Condors will soon soar above the rugged coast that they once shared with the Yuroks.  If all goes well, the first release of condors in Northern California should occur this fall.

California Condor release sites.  Source: https://www.fws.gov/cno/es/calcondor/Condor.cfm



Right now, the focus of the California Condor Recovery Plan is on building self-sustaining populations, though even wild-born, free-flying condors are still carefully managed with an intensive hands-on approach.  Biologists closely monitor wild populations and nest sites, intervening with medical check-ups and necessary care, attaching identification tags and tracking devices, and even capturing individuals that show signs of lead poisoning for treatment and rehabilitation.  

Biologist fit condors with color-coded numbered wing tags and radio tracking devices so that individual birds can be recognized and monitored throughout their lives.  By following the birds' movements, biologists are able to locate and monitor individual condors as well as their nests and chicks.  They also keep an eye on the birds' health, often catching signs of lead poisoning early enough for treatment and, when that fails, retrieving deceased birds for necropsies to better understand the threats facing the population.  

The neat thing about the color-coded numbered wing tags sported by free-flying California Condors is that they give casual observers, as well as biologists, the ability to recognize individual birds through the use of online databases.  The colors correspond to the birds' ages and represent the "hundreds" place in their identification number.  For example, purple tags indicate birds in the 600 series, born between 2011 and 2013, and a purple tag with a number two on it denotes condor number 602.

Click here to see profiles of the birds in the Pinnacles flock of condors, or visit Condor Spotter to identify any individual in the Southwest (choose from Central California, Southern California or Arizona-Utah regions).  The Ventana Wildlife Society also has an excellent website dedicated to sharing the stories of each individual condor.  

On our recent visit to Pinnacles National Park, we saw seven or eight individual condors throughout the day, and though the birds were soaring high above us, I was able to make out the tag colors and numbers of three birds, the photos of which are featured in this article.  While at Pinnacles, we encountered male condor 602 (purple tag), along with the female he is paired with, 889 (pink tag), who is named "Narcissa."  We also spotted "Phoebe the Forager," also known as 569 (black tag), from the Big Sur flock, soaring high above Bear Gulch Reservoir.  

According to the Ventana Wildlife Society, Phoebe the Forager earned her name when she was seen foraging on a sea lion carcass just two days after her release into the wild; most condors depend on carcasses provided by field biologists for a while after their reintroduction into the wild.  She is known to travel between Big Sur and Pinnacles regularly, a distance of only about 40 miles as the condor flies, and nested at Pinnacles in 2017 and 2019 with Pinnacles condor 589 (who is the brother of 889, "Narcissa").  Sadly, the chick from 2017, female condor 878 or "Belle," only the second wild condor to fledge at Pinnacles, died in 2020 (necropsy pending).  The pair hatched a second chick, male condor 996, in 2019, and have another active nest this spring!   

Follow this link  to watch a short video clip of condor chick 996 in the nest with its parents, 589 and 569.

An adult condor in the nest with a one day old chick.
Photo credit: NPS/Gavin Emmons. 
Source: https://www.nps.gov/pinn/learn/nature/california-condor-information.htm



All of these highly intensive measures may seem drastic, but they have proven necessary to the health and growth of the condor population.  Each year, an average of twelve to fifteen condor chicks hatch in the wild, including some "second generation" wild chicks (those born to  parents that also hatched in the wild), while several dozen more continue to be hatched and raised in captivity, many of them destined to ultimately be released into the wild.  

I am incredibly grateful for the amazing conservation efforts of the last three decades: the great body of knowledge and determination; the experimentation and risk; the physical, logistical and financial support; the sweat, tears and passion that have all come together, at the eleventh hour, to resurrect a magnificent species.  I believe we have turned the corner, for the better, in the field of wildlife conservation, and despite the dire state the environment is in today, we are finally making great strides in the right direction!  

The California Condor is, mercifully, living proof.

Let us be thankful for the second chances we have been given, and rest in the hope that as long as this world lasts, we will have California Condors to share it with.

Photo credit: USFWS  Source: https://www.fws.gov/cno/es/calcondor/Condor.cfm

Read more about California Condors here and here.

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