RIDGEFIELD — The personal habits of turkey vultures might be described as questionable.
They poop on their feet.
They throw up when you scare them.
And when they dive into a meal, it’s an actual face-plant, smack into rotting meat.
Definitely not the sort of creature you want to invite for dinner. But if turkey vultures weren’t eager eaters, we would be dealing with a lot more germs and disease.
And that’s why the turkey vulture is being honored as Bird of the Year at the 2017 BirdFest & Bluegrass celebration. The 18th annual event concludes today in downtown Ridgefield and both units of the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge.
The Audubon Society of Portland’s bird show figures to be a popular event again at 1 p.m. today, after about 300 people filled the Union Ridge Elementary School auditorium Saturday. The cast includes Julio, a great horned owl, and Aristophanes, a raven. And with red-headed Ruby representing her species, Audubon official Deanna Sawtelle will share insights into vulture culture.
If You Go
What: BirdFest & Bluegrass.
Where: Downtown Ridgefield and the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge.
Today’s events:
• Downtown Ridgefield: Birders’ Marketplace, 11 a.m.-4 p.m.; Audubon Birds on Display, 1-3 p.m.; Kayak tours ($30 a person), 10:30 a.m. and 1:30 p.m.
• Carty Unit-Cathlapotle: Adult bird hike, 8-10:30 a.m.; Cathlapotle Plankhouse family events, 10 a.m.-4 p.m.; salmon bake, 3:30-5 p.m.
• River S Unit-Kiwa Trail: Sandhill crane tours ($30 a person), 6 a.m. and 5 p.m.; River S auto tour is open from dawn until dusk.
“They are nature’s recyclers. Without scavengers, you and I will get sick” when rotting animal flesh piles up, she said.
And there is a side note to this: Even though a vulture eats other animals, it is not a bird of prey.
“A bird of prey uses its feet and talons to kill,” said Sawtelle, volunteer manager for the Audubon Society of Portland.
Killing is not among the vulture’s kitchen chores. And that is why a question from the audience — How fast do vultures fly? — drew this response: “They don’t need to fly fast. Their food is dead.”
That is the reason for so many noteworthy elements of turkey vultures.
“They will rip a carcass open and stand right inside the carcass,” Sawtelle explained. And when it’s time to clean up after dinner — which means neutralizing all the icky stuff stuck to their legs and feet — “They poop straight down their legs.”
That kills the bacteria.
The most visible adaptation can be found at the other end of the bird. That’s what caught the attention of Aria McCarstle, an 11-year-old Ridgefield girl.
“Why are they bald?” the Union Ridge fifth-grader asked.
If vultures had feathers from the neck up, their heads would be smeared with disgusting stuff when they emerged from the belly of the brunch. Without feathers to stick to, “All the icky stuff falls right off,” Sawtelle said.
Another icky aspect of vulture nation was featured at Overlook Park, where kids had an opportunity to — as the sign so invitingly described — hurl like a vulture.
“They throw up when they feel threatened,” explained Michelle French, a member of Friends of the Ridgefield Wildlife Refuge.
French helped youngsters replicate the process with their own versions of vulture vomit in a plastic bag. Then they could hurl them at targets.
The Friends’ recipe for vulture vomit, by the way, does not include partially digested roadkill. Those barf bags contain white craft glue and borax, plus a dash of coloring.
Which led to an unusual question involving an already questionable topic.
French asked: “What color do you want your vomit?”
