While it takes a village to raise a child, it takes an entire hemisphere to raise a raptor. A landscape devoid of raptors is without ecological integrity, the barometer of our collective wellbeing. High atop these remote ridgelines above the Great Basin, a region of unforgiving deserts, mountain ranges and sagebrush steppes, is the frontline of raptor conservation. Our journey began and ended with the whisk of broad wings. The golden eagle took flight and floated skyward. We had joined the migration and followed golden eagles for thousands of miles-a fraction of their entire route-and just long enough to peek into their remarkable journey. We got to know and admire the biologists and passionate volunteers who briefly intercept a handful of them along the way, gathering information that will help generations of raptors to come. We drove, hiked, fished, and camped in the unforgiving landscapes that these wayward fliers have relied on for millennia. And perhaps most importantly, we experienced what stewardship and conservation can accomplish. Fifty years ago, golden eagles and their raptor allies hung on the edge of extinction. A collective decision was made to ensure that raptors must continue to flood autumn skies. And while the efforts of a few dozen biologists may seem insignificant, it's the cumulative effort over decades that counts, and it shapes the future of our planet's wild places and creatures.