Part 3 of SoCal 2020, A Trip for the Soul

The Gibbon Conservation Center, located on the outskirts of Santa Clarita, works in unison with zoos, sanctuaries, and breeding programs all over the world to protect, study, and care for gibbons. The center is attempting to raise enough capital to move closer to the coast, where the temperatures are less extreme and would more closely mirror that of the gibbons’ natural habitats, and to expand visitor services.

Education is part of the center’s mission, and on a tour, we learn lots of interesting facts. Gibbons are highly emotional apes that kiss, hold hands, hug, laugh, and engage in other traditional “human behavior.” It can take up to a year to successfully habituate them to the wild after having lived in captivity. They prefer bright colors, so they choose orange and red bell peppers over green ones.

The gibbons swing from branch to branch and use an assortment of hoops, ropes, platforms, and hammocks. One gibbon hangs upside down from the ceiling like a bat. Another canvasses the ground with arms nearly straight up, shifting back and forth as he walks. Two siblings wrestle while mother looks placidly out at the crowd.

“People are very inspired by the acrobatic things they do,” our guide, also the director, tells us.

Gibbons emit unique vocalizations that start at sunrise and occur periodically throughout the day. Called “singing,” the primary purpose is to establish territory – something the gibbons here don’t have to do but do anyway out of instinct.

Near the end of the tour, a single gibbon sings briefly. Suddenly, the entire lot erupts. The variations include squeaks, hoots, chirps, angry-sounding cries, moans, groans, barks, yips, and shrieks. Guests hold up their cell phones and cameras, recording the hullabaloo which goes on for a solid 25 minutes. The cascade of vocalizations ebbs and flows. At times it slows down to a trickle, then starts back up in a flurry with every gibbon chiming in. I look at the guide’s face, her eyes shining paired with a wide smile, like a child at a carnival. I’ve just witnessed a magical event.