‘Like a duck to water’: Falconer Mick Brown’s life revolves around raptors

BY SHAWN DIGITY (twitter@DIGITYnodoubt)

Mick Brown is a local falconer. Hailing out of Martins Ferry, he possesses a clan of birds featuring two Harris’s hawks, one goshawk, and one screech owl. And last Thursday, he introduced one of his Harris’s hawks, Purdy, and broke down falconry in the state of Ohio.

The sport of falconry is the “pursuit of wild game with an untethered bird of prey.” But despite the name, falconry is not exclusive to falcons; it can be done with hawks, falcons, or even owls. Brown stated that falconry is a lot like regular hunting — its most glaring difference being the usage of a raptor.

And falconers can tap into several of the bird’s anatomical advantages while hunting. For starters, the birds have unprecedented vision. They can catch a glimpse of movement hundreds of yards away and be on their target nearly as quickly. One of the more stunning realizations was that Purdy only weighed 40 ounces. Hawks’ hollow skeletons keep them lightweight, which gets them into the air. And once they’re in the sky, the birds can use the flight to translate into speed. As a result, falconry has a “speed kills” slogan. “See food, kill food, eat food,” Brown quipped. Furthermore, the birds have the instincts; the fully carnivorous birds are just wired to hunt.

But one might wonder how Mick Brown got into falconry in the first place, and it’s something that harkens back to his childhood. “Ever since I was a kid, I loved birds of prey. I thought they were really amazing. Back in the ‘60s, I was like 20. I saw an article in a magazine. They had redtailed hawks for sale. I want to see if I can get one.” But unfortunately, local game laws at the time prohibited owning birds of prey. And that was it for a while. He couldn’t pursue falconry in his 20s, and it wasn’t until about 20 years ago that his life changed. Falconry had finally become legal in Ohio, and Brown jumped on the opportunity. “I got into it, and I went nuts — like a duck to water, I guess you could say.” Now falconry is Brown’s life. And the way he showed off photos of his birds like parents with their children goes to show just how much he loves it: “It’s the most enjoyable thing I’ve ever done.”

The falconer took a moment to analyze his equipment, too — falconry isn’t something for the underprepared. The leather glove worn by falconers is called a gauntlet. The current gauntlet was worse for wear, but Brown explained there was a rationale behind it. “It’s pretty ratty looking, but they [the birds] get whetted to a particular glove, and they’re real used to it,” he explained. Additionally, the birds are kept tethered to the gauntlet with a leash and leather jesses.

Falconry and its equipment have been relatively unchanged for thousands of years, but there’s a reason why the birds are tethered. Speaking from his experiences, Brown offered some pearls of wisdom when handling a hawk: “Don’t worry about the beak. Don’t get nailed by the feet. These talons are unbelievably sharp, and that big hallux down in the back; that’s a dandy there. That’s what they do their damage with.” The hallux is the large talon that raptors have on the back end of their feet. The veteran falconer warned of the hallux because he’s been on the receiving end once before. It was one of Purdy’s earliest runs, and Brown got overexcited as she found her first rabbit, and he made some beginner’s mistakes. “You always call the bird to you with your hand away from you. You always do that — falconry 101. But I was excited. It was her [Purdy’s] first rabbit. I had my hand like this [across the body]. I always wear my safety glasses when I’m hunting, didn’t have them on. She came and bounced off my glove, and all eight talons hit me in the face. That big one [hallux] went in my eye.” And it tore his tear duct on impact. Brown is lucky that Purdy didn’t attempt to grasp anything with her feet as she ricocheted into his head; otherwise, the situation could’ve gone down a different road. While he reiterated that it was a “total accident,” it turned into a learning lesson.

Brown learned his lesson, but the birds, on the other hand, never face discipline. And there’s an explicit reason: they won’t hunt if the falconer isn’t careful. The birds can’t understand disciplinary action, but they understand hunger. Brown lets his birds eat if they catch something, and he feeds them when they don’t catch anything. The birds realize who facilitates their meals; they know who staved their hunger, whether it’s a successful hunt or an off-day. That understanding leads to trust between Brown and his hawks. But the trust is built around food — not love and affection so much. “Everything you do has to be trust. That’s why they trust me.”

While not glamourous, the hawks see food, and they see survival. Brown is Purdy’s food source. Purdy cares for him the same way she loves getting a meal. And he understands the birds’ mentality. If he were smaller, they’d try to eat him without batting an eye.

It’s mutual respect — and Brown agreed with that sentiment. And maybe it’s all about food for the birds; they’re thinking about staying alive and their next meal. But it’s hardly a lopsided dynamic. By admission, the birds are Brown’s life, and he revolves around them — maybe it’s not so different after all.

“It’s not a hobby. It’s not a sport. It’s a lifestyle. My whole life is my birds.”