Baby eagles at White Rock Lake have ruffled the feathers between birders and bikers

The perimeter of Stone Tables & Playground at White Rock Lake has become the terrain of Dallas’ most tense modern turf war. By the yellow tape bordering off a few acres surrounding one specific tree, two of Dallas’ most polarizing communities, the birders and the bikers, come to verbal blows, and the vitriol is worse on social media. In the center of the prohibited zone at the lake is the nest of Nick and Nora, Dallas’ beloved pair of bald eagles, and on the ground below the tree, squawk their three fledgling eaglets: Rocky, Stoney, and the runt of the trio, Lucky. 

Every year, the city shuts down the area surrounding the nest, allowing the eaglets the space they need to learn to fly and hunt. By federal law, entering the prohibited zone carries a $250,000 fine and a year in prison, but the penalties — a massive sign, water barriers, chains, yellow tape and the chastisement of the city’s self-appointed eagle protectors — haven’t been enough to prevent bikers from completing their route through the area. 

“It’s pretty tense right now, and it’s escalated a bit,” says Frank Giblin, an admin of the official Nick and Nora fan page on Facebook. The page is riddled with dozens of comments about issues with bikers. “There’s a lot more verbal sparring going on.” 

Tensions reached an all-time high in late May when one of the eaglets fell from the nest, a natural part of the fledging process. From the ground, the eaglets slowly build their muscles by working their way back up the trees, branch by branch. The two other eaglets are on the ground now, getting closer and closer to soaring daily. It’s their most vulnerable time, and keeping them isolated and unspooked is a primary concern for birders and the city’s parks and recreation department, who are responsible for keeping the area on lockdown. The zone will remain shut down until the eaglets are able to fly and hunt on their own, which is projected for mid-July.

“The city reacted wonderfully. The city park and recreation department did a fantastic job of closing up the road, extending the barricades, and putting up signage continuously during the weekend,” Giblin says. “But even last week, you still saw the behavior [from the bikers]. They’re going around the barricades, and I was disappointed. It’s turned into a war of words right now.” 

A simple solution

Giblin says nearly every hour, a biker cuts through the zone, but the problem is more complex than ignorant and aggressive bikers, and the solution may be simple, says one of White Rock’s bikers. 

“What bothers me is that they should have put something at the [Bath House Cultural Center] that said ‘detour,’” says Dana, a biker who completes the White Rock loop about three times a week.

The Bath House is the closest fork in the pathways near the nesting zone, allowing for an easy reroute. As of right now, bikers are forced to make an unexpected U-turn at the tape.

“There’s no path if you’re on a road bike,” Dana adds.

The area closure is clear and well-marked if you approach from the end by the park. But on the other end, the trail is abruptly closed with no easy connection to the parallel path and limited explanation for the zone’s closure. Bikers can go cut through the yellow tape, turn around, and bike roughly half a mile back to the Bath House trail split or cut through unpaved overgrown brush and foliage. 

Dana assumes most bikers are unaware of the designated area’s importance, though she admits there are likely a few bad apples and certainly bikers who believe the birders are overreacting. Giblin says he often hears begrudging bikers complain. 

“On Saturday, when I was leaving the nest,  a cyclist was going around the barricade,” says Giblin. “I got out of my car, and I said, ‘Excuse me, this is— it’s not just us, this is the city saying you can’t go this far.’ And he said, ‘Oh, it’s ridiculous. You people are ridiculous.”

According to Facebook comments, more aggressive bikers have resorted to screaming at city staffers who are preserving the area and showing the staff the bird between their index and middle fingers. As the situation worsens, with weeks until the trail re-opens, park fans are hoping a solution is found soon.

The crown jewels of the Dallas skies

Giblin says the eagles are a treasure, and we’re lucky they’ve chosen Dallas as their home. 

“They’re not just rare; they’ve been here four years, and they’ve been through a lot,” Giblin says.

Nick and Nora have had two other nests destroyed by Texas storms, and two years ago lost a baby during one of the downpours.

“They mean so much to a lot of us out here,” Giblin says. “We watch them, and we’re very protective of them, and we don’t want them to leave. They’re social eagles as it is. They set their nest up in a very public place.”

The overlap of birders and bikers is strong, though. On the trail, hordes of bikers and birders alike pause near the nest, hopeful of watching the trio take flight. Hopefully, one day, everyone, including the eagles, can unite over their love for White Rock in peace.