Experience the sounds of the rainforest, and the songs of gibbons, in Santa Clarita

What sounds come to mind when you think of the rainforest? There's a good chance it's the singing of gibbons, primates with powerful vocalizations that can travel 2 miles.

Turns out, in Santa Clarita of all places, there's one of the largest populations of these long-armed primates in the United States.

Less than 10 miles off the 14 Freeway, down a bumpy dirt road, the Gibbon Conservation Center takes up about 5 acres of land speckled with trees.

The place is home to 41 gibbons of five different species. These tailless primates are known as lesser apes and they have arms that are one-and-a-half times longer than their legs. They can leap dozens of feet in the wild.

I visited recently to meet director Gabriella Skollar and hopefully catch the gibbons in concert. Originally from Hungary, Skollar came here as a volunteer in 2005 and has remained ever since. Now she lives on the site, caring for the animals.

“When I started working with Gibbons, I just felt like they are very emotional," Skollar said. "I see them hugging a lot. They are holding hands. And I also learned how rare they are, so I just kind of connected with them... They are very fragile and sensitive and mischievous."

Gabriella Skollar, director of the Gibbon Conservation Center in Santa Clarita.

What kinds of things can these intelligent animals get up to? Skollar said stealing glasses, trying to get into pockets and scrolling through pictures on her phone, believe it or not.

Skollar introduced me to a family of critically endangered gibbons whose numbers have dwindled to about 1,000 in the wild in places like Vietnam and China. Some have fluffy white cheeks that give away their name: Northern White Cheeked Gibbons. They got a snack of blueberries, the mom tossing them up and down in her hand while her nine-month-old baby clung to her.

The grounds here are lovingly-kept with vintage metal chairs and benches for hanging out with these primates. Inside the cages there are gibbons with bushy white eyebrows, hairdos that flip up over their ears and bulbous throat sacks that give them a couple extra chins.

So how did they all end up here? Skollar said the center was founded by her late teacher, self-taught primatologist Alan Mootnick.

“When Alan started in 1976, he had a small place in Chatsworth... and he had a couple Gibbons... And neighbors started to complain about the vocalizations. So he moved here in the 80s," Skollar said. "He ended up here because there was no one here and the center kind of needs to have a buffer from neighbors because their vocalizations can be heard from up to 2 miles away."

One of the gibbon friends at the Gibbon Conservation Center.

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Robert Garrova / LAist

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Hunting, poaching and deforestation are hurting gibbon populations around the world. Of 20 species, only one isn’t endangered. The center’s mission is to promote the conservation, study and care of gibbons through public education and habitat preservation.

And Skollar isn’t alone in that work. A small team of dedicated staff and volunteers keep this place running, like Jodi Kleier, who was popping pieces of steamed sweet potatoes into the mouth of a hungry gibbon.

“I think it’s their personalities and how different and unique they all are is what I really like about gibbons,” she said.

The gibbons eat six to eight times a day to mimic their foraging behaviors in the wild. Sophia Paden was hard at work in the kitchen, surrounded by sketches and paintings of gibbons on the walls.

“So we are preparing what we call the afternoon feeds for the Gibbons. So we’ve got the apples preparing, we’re going to do some banana leaves and some mango pieces,” Padden said.

Besides eating, though, there’s maybe one thing that gibbons seem to love even more.

“From day one, I was just fascinated with their song,” Skollar said. “It’s just incredibly powerful and emotional.”

Skollar studies gibbon vocalizations and said the main function of their song is to mark their territory and tell their neighbors that this is their home. Adult males and females will sing a duet, with their offspring often chiming in. I was hoping to catch one of their daily performances that start at sunrise, but was snubbed at first.

Skollar showed me how to kickstart the concert: we made a guttural grunting sound that can signal its time to sing. And then...

The gibbons’ singing is so powerful, it felt like the hairs on my arms stood up, a cacophony you can feel in your chest.

“People have different feelings about it. Some people start tearing up when they hear it. Other people, they want to join in, they jump up and down,” Skollar said.

Over the past two decades here, Skollar said she’s cared for some gibbons who died in her care.

“They all were trying to sing until their last day. And you could tell that it was hard for them,” she recalled.

She remembered one of her gibbon friends from over the years who died from cancer.

“At the end we had to climb up to her to feed her, to her sleeping box. But every morning, she would open the sleeping box and stick her head out and just sing along with her daughters,” Skollar said.

If you’d like to hear the gibbons sing for yourself, the Gibbon Conservation Center offers a guided tour at 10 a.m. Saturdays and Sundays. Reservations are required.

More info at the Gibbon Conservation Center website.