BioPark in the pouring rain

I only intended to spend my days in Albuquerque working at the balloon fiesta. The downpour that cancelled all fiesta events on Wednesday left us with an open day. There was a chance to wander an Albuquerque gem. 

The crew with which I volunteered had extra tickets for the balloon crew event at the Albuquerque BioPark Zoo, and I could not turn that down. 

Considering how many zoos have been written up in this blog, that is no surprise. But this visit was truly unexpected. I joined the crew on the van, then several other crews and a mob of children under six joined in. I probably ran into the COVID-19 variant that felled me here. I didn’t know that at the time. I held my fire while children ran wild. 

The BioPark closed to the public and set up a picnic for the balloon crews. As the event started, the rains crept in. I got a quick round from the buffet and felt as if the rain was disintegrating the plate beneath me. I ate quickly then burnt through my drink tickets on Jameson drinks. 

Not feeling the rain

With many hours to go, I huddled under an umbrella and set out through the BioPark. 

Polar bears were especially active – not because of the rain, but because their keepers pitched trout to them. One of them had a green tinge to its fur, undoubtedly due to living half a hemisphere from typical polar bear range. The two massive bears stayed active the entire time. 

 The rain did not deter all BioPark residents from activity. The lions sat in the doorway to their non-exhibit areas, watching the rain. The well-maned male took up most of the door, with a lioness trying to look and grooming the male when he refused to move. 

The smaller cats were even more active especially, the BioPark’s 17-year-old bobcat, who spent much of the afternoon sitting in the lap of her keeper. He explained to the crowd that they had bonded and she acted much like a house cat when around him. Her fur felt much like that of a house cat as well, he reported to us. Everyone watching envied his job.

Yes, that's a bobcat on her keeper's lap.

Animal encounters were largely hit and miss. The tiger refused to come out, as did a number of smaller cats like the ocelots. The BioPark’s golden eagle had a bad eye and a wounded wing, but that was more than 30 years old. One gorilla grabbed a downed branch and romped through the rain. Another sat under an overhang with an expression that said, “Enough of the fucking rain.” 

Not all BioPark residents minded the rain. In a massive lagoon, a lone hippo swam and surfaced to drink from a spout. By its bulk alone, a hippo can put on a show by diving into its pond then surfacing with jaws extended wide. 

 The BioPark had large areas closed off for a renovation to expand its Asian and Australian exhibits. This led to a longer walk past the giraffes, who seemed to chill out despite the rain, and the BioPark’s massive elephant exhibit. 

The Asian elephants seemed cued into a keeper’s talk about the massive viewing pavilion at the north end of the BioPark and their enclosure. But there were other places to watch them, and other elephants. One elephant came up and bent its trunk, almost seeming to pose. It made for a nice encounter that few people received. I quickly learned that the rain led most visitors to retreat into the BioPark buildings, which made them crowded and humid. I spent my time outside under an umbrella. It seemed a fair tradeoff. 

The sun reemerged as the crew event came to an end. The Andean condors stood atop their enclosure, showing off their impressive wingspans. Extending more than 10 feet from tip to tip, the condors held out those wings for everyone to see. 

The display of wing size seemed less about showing off and more of a desire to dry the wings in the sun. Those of us who stuck out the picnic folded up our umbrellas and looked to the sun for similar reasons.

Condor envy