Aquila

Author
Adam Clause

I am sitting in a paddleboat, baking in the bright sun. It is our class’ final trip on the Tuolumne, and we are nearing the North Fork confluence for our final data-gathering frenzy. The water is smooth. This break in the rapids is welcome, allowing us to catch our breath and take in the gorgeous scenery. As we round a bend, the scenery abruptly improves in an unexpected way. A pair of massive dark forms flap above the water. Staring at them, my blood pulses faster. White patches flash from their wings and tail. They are eagles. Juvenile golden eagles.

I am almost incredulous, having seen only the odd red-tailed hawk and American kestrel on our previous Tuolumne trips. Our Outdoor Adventures guides had mentioned seeing eagles on the river, but such sightings are not regular events. Enthralled, I find myself babbling excitedly to other riders in my boat. It is a classic cliché, but an apt one: the birds are majestic. Their flight is powerful, yet polished. The pair, initially oriented close together at the base of the canyon, quickly diverge. One disappears behind the coniferous skyline of the ridge, while the other lands in a foothill pine on river left, concealed. A fast-approaching rapid interrupts the moment, and we are forced to shift our focus. Peering back upriver at the next smooth stretch, we see the tree-bound eagle launch into the sky once again. But it flies upriver away from us. As suddenly as they appeared, the predators are gone.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I remain on an adrenaline high. These are my first wild golden eagles. And the view was spectacular, in spite of its brief duration. It is an unparalleled send-off to an unparalleled class experience. There is no better way to start the golden days of summer than with living, rapacious gold.