Labor Day Backpacking

Libby and I took a short backpack trip over our American Labor Day Weekend. We went to Thousand Island Lake via the Rush Creek trailhead near Silver Lake. Like any backpacking trip, it was occasionally challenging, but we had a great time and can't wait to make it back into the high Sierra next year.

This wasn't the trip we'd planned. While our first choice had always been to go to Thousand Island Lake, we'd hoped to do it via one of the easier routes, via the high trail or the river trail from Agnew Meadows. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the ranger station in Mammoth first thing on Saturday morning, we were too far back in the permit line to have any real chance of getting a spot on either of those trails. The quotas were filling up fast for everywhere in the area, and our second choice, the Dorothy Lake area above Convict, went out the door with the two people in line directly before us.

Libby and I pause for a photo at the trail head.

Anyway, with most of the weekend-friendly spots filled, we took the Rush Creek trail head and were thankful. Unfortunately, the line for the permits and the drive to June Lake meant that we didn't get on the trail until 9:30, which gave just enough time for it to get plenty hot on the exposed slopes below Agnew Lake. We made very slow progress up the hill, and got to Agnew around 11:30 for an early lunch.

At Agnew Lake, we had a decision to make. We could either go the longer, more gradually ascending route around Gem Lake, or take the shorter and steeper route via Spooky Meadows. We opted for the latter for a couple of reasons. One: it was a full two miles shorter, and two: we were going so slowly, anyway, that a steep ascent couldn't really slow us down. I still feel like it was the right decision, but it's a fairly difficult climb.

This lake is just a little below the crest.

Just beyond the crest, which is just after the climb past Spooky Meadows (which weren't very spooky), we found this beautifully sparkling lake. Just past it there was a pair of deer foraging in the trees. The trail drops down into the Clark Lakes, of which the above may be the first, depending on your map, and we enjoyed walking past their grass-lined borders. Little tree frogs were hopping across the trail, which was fun.

Libby at the biggest Clark Lake

We enjoyed the continued stretch of downhill from Clark Lake, but had to stop to take in the view of the San Joaquin's valley. The crest isn't spectacular here, though the Ritter Range is, and the views of Mammoth Mountain, Mammoth Crest, and - just peaking from beyond Mammoth Pass - Crystal Crag itself, offered a new perspective on a much beloved place. A haze of smoke, the acrid bite of which occasionally nipped inside the nose, unfortunately kept the views from being as perfectly clear as Sierra air can be.

Mammoth Mountain and Crest beyond the middle fork of the San Joaquin River valley.

We arrived at Thousand Island Lake around 5:30 in the evening, and had to hike past a dozen or more camps to find an open spot to camp. That added an extra mile or more to our trip, and of course, was a little disheartening after a long day's hike. All the time, however, our pain was well compensated by the absolutely fantastic scenery that the lake offered as we walked along its banks. The views of Banner, alone, are worth the trip, and the lake's endless and varied shoreline, granite islands, and flowering meadows were also balm to every aching joint.

Mount Banner and Thousand Island Lake

We did finally settle on a camp spot. Unfortunately, on the first night we could see a couple of other nearby camps, but on the second night they had all moved on. We also discovered we had somehow forgotten our tent stakes. We're still not sure how we managed to separate them from the rest of our tent, but we found them when we came home in our car camping supplies. A dozen rocks served to substitute, though the first night's wind was a bit noisier than it would have been.

The next day we slept in a bit, and then we hiked over to the Garnet Lake basin via a knapsack pass on the western end of Thousand Island Lake. The tarns just between Banner and Thousand Island were intensely blue, really pretty, and matching Mountain Bluebirds were fluttering over the meadows in small family groups. There was another really nice tarn above Garnet, and the meadows along its outlet were the best we saw on the trip - still green despite the late date. We found ourselves wandering out onto a bluff for a view of Garnet, and sat down for lunch.

Garnet Lake

After lunch, it was back over the knapsack pass and back to camp. There we took a bracing sponge-bath and relaxed and read to while away the evening. It's delightful to sit in the warm sun of a high mountain meadow and read a book.

The next day we had to get on the trail early to get home before it was too late, so we were up before the sun. It had been still overnight, and there was a little frost on the rain fly, and more under the groundcloth when we packed it away. Down by the lake, it coated the bristly grass and rimmed our footsteps in the mud and sand. Then the first light of the sun started painting Banner orange, and I ran down to the lake to snap a few pictures. Here's one:

Banner sunrise

We were on the trail not long after the sun started warming it, and we made good time to Clark Lakes. Then we took the longer trail around Gem, judging that, with our early start, we'd be able to see some new country. Rush Creek was particularly beautiful, and the views around Gem were also very nice. It is a shame about the dam, though.

Anyway, we took lunch at the far end of Agnew, again, and were back to our cars around 1:30. We stopped for some ice cream (for Libby) and root beer (for me) in June Lake, and then we were on our way home. And that was our backpacking trip!

Pictures from the weekend are at the normal place for pictures.

Arizona, the End

As the first light of morning snuffed out the desert stars in the skies over the eastern Chiricahuas, I awoke to a pre-dawn chorus of owls. Whiskered Screech-Owls' toots competed with the deep hoots of a Great Horned Owl, and a nearby "Mountain" Northern Pygmy-Owl joined in with its repetitive whistles, its doubled accent betraying its Mexican ties.

We didn't rush out on our last day in the Chiricahuas, but headed back over to South Fork for a hike before breaking down camp. It was a fun little hike up the deep canyon, but not very birdy. Overhead there was a constant stream of helicopter traffic; at the time we thought it was the Border Patrol, but later it turned out it was a fire crew working on a weak fire miles upstream.

As we neared the parking lot, we tracked down a calling male Trogon. It led us to its nest, or a potential nest site, anyway, which was pretty cool. As we were watching the bird, a couple from the Central California coast came over to get a look, and mentioned that they'd just seen a Montezuma Quail up the road a short way.

Now, we very much wanted to see a Montezuma Quail. Unfortunately, that's difficult to do, requiring a lot of luck and patience. These birds' primary defensive strategy is to hide. They crouch motionless and let their cryptic plumage blend in with the oak leaves and grass-stems that litter the ground where they live. The grassy habitat they favor consists of clumps of foot-tall bunch grass, that overhangs and provides the perfect hiding places for smallish ground-dwelling birds. Cornell's Birds of North America account remarks that one can hike for days in appropriate habitat and not see any quail, even when they are common.

Well, we can attest to that! We'd been looking all week, scanning roadsides constantly whenever we drove through likely habitat, scanning hillsides on all of our hikes, and generally keeping a sharp eye. The gentleman who had seen this bird didn't think we'd have much luck if we looked for it, as it had disappeared into a grassy area, but gave us directions anyway. We set out with high hopes.

We finally arrived at the spot, and nothing was stirring. After looking from the road, we set off into the woods, cautiously walking, eyes straining for a sign - a dark lump, a quivering feather, anything. Nothing, however, showed, and, undaunted, we crossed the creek and began searching the grass on the far side. We decided our only hope was to come upon the bird as it was crouching in the grass and get a look at it that way, so we split up - placing maybe six feet between us, and slowly, ever so slowly, we crept forward, eyes and ears peeled.

We nearly died the next moment when the quail, directly between us at our very feet, exploded into the air, furiously flapped its wings and then glided off up the hill and disappeared. Our brief look at a Montezuma Quail was of a dark feathered back receding quickly into the distance. We hunted for it up the hillside, but couldn't find it, again, and finally we headed back to our car. So, that's a bird we definitely would like to see again.

Packing up was once again accompanied by some ominous raindrops, but nothing came of it. Then it was back to Tucson, the first 20 or so miles on gravel roads. Between Wilcox and Tucson on the 10 we got hit by a mammoth thunderstorm that brought traffic to a crawl. Pretty fun to watch it coming.

After checking into our motel for the night, we headed up Mount Lemmon to go owling. We arrived on the lower slopes before dark, and enjoyed the views of the Santa Rita Mountains, where we'd stayed earlier on our trip, and distant downtown Tucson.

Libby on Mount Lemmon

Our primary target was Flammulated Owl, which we'd missed in the Chiricahuas, but we wouldn't have minded a Northern Saw-Whet, if it had called. Nothing was doing, though, in the high country. Multiple stops along the roadsides, and one trip down a gravel road in the dark, didn't find any. It was probably just a little too late in the year, but it was disappointing.

The next day we headed home after taking another swing at the Common Blackhawks at Aravaipa Canyon (this is the location we visited on our very first day). Once again, we saw many hawks, including juvenile Gray and Zone-tailed Hawks, but we weren't able to find any Blackhawks.

And, then, on our way home, it was 116 in Quartzite when we stopped for gas.

That's hot.

I think that's all, folks.

Pictures in the usual spot: Arizona 8.

Arizona 7

This was a pretty long trip, but we were approaching the end on our seventh day. After a brief breakfast, we went for a morning hike to the top of Barfoot Peak. This was prime territory for the Short-tailed Hawk family that's been hanging out in the Chiricahuas, though we knew it would be early to expect them to be up and about. Still, I hoped that we'd be early enough to avoid the daily lightning while we were on an exposed perch.

It was a lovely, easy hike to the top. It was only about a mile and a half, and we didn't see a whole lot of birds on the way up. There were some pretty flowers, though, and we came across a mixed flock of birds that hosted our first Olive Warblers for the trip, among other mountain gems. At the top there weren't any birds soaring, but there were enormous congregations of lady bugs, a neat look-out tower, and views up and down the mountain range. There was also rain. Not much, but there was enough build-up to make me uneasy. As a result, we didn't stay very long, and headed back down the mountain sooner than we had originally hoped.

That was okay, though, because it gave us an opportunity to wander off in the other direction on the trail past our campground. In less than a mile, we came to the beginning of a catastrophic burn area from 15 or so years ago. It was beautifully flourishing with dense undergrowth and wildflowers, with Cordilleran Flycatchers, Yellow-eyed Juncos and House Wrens doing their thing among the scraggly snags. There was also a small group of deer that wandered off in disdain at our appearance.

Anyway, it was a lot of fun, and gave us energy to head back down to our camp and pack up camp to move down the mountain. This process was given energy by the densely building clouds and the occasional drop of rain, and so it was with a sigh of relief that we packed the last of our gear in the car before the rain fell.

It fell with a fury on our drive down the mountain. We had just gotten out of the car to look at an interesting, but distant, Buteo that was perched off to the side of the road (a Short-tailed or Red-tailed Hawk?), when a few drops became sheets of falling water, and we scrambled desperately into the car. We crept our way down the mountain slowly through the torrent of rain, while rivulets of brown water hurried by us and over the precipitous drops delineating the path.

Of course, being the monsoon, it eased as quickly as it had begun, and we arrived in Cave Creek Canyon to blue skies and dry weather. We took another trip over to South Fork, this time enjoying long, if somewhat unsatisfying, looks at a beautiful male Elegant Trogon.

There were a couple of other noteworthy events for the day. One was that we went down to Portal as it got dark and got to see Elf Owls. Elf Owls are the smallest owls in North America, about the size of a sparrow, and incredibly cute. Thanks to the help of a resident birder, we got great looks at an adult that was hanging around a nest near the post office.

The other cool occasion was that a friendly photographer/biologist had set up a blanket and a light in a neighboring campsite to attract interesting insects to photograph. He pulled in many interesting beetles, moths, and arachnids, but the definite star of the show were the jewel-like Gloriosa beetles that he captured for photography. He lets them go after taking their picture, but it was a delight to see these green gems with brilliantly shining golden accents. They really sparkled in the spotlight. You can see some pictures here: BugGuide.net.

Pictures for the day: Arizona 7 on Flickr.

Arizona 6

Our sixth morning in Arizona, I wasn't feeling well. I had woken up in the middle of the night with a mysterious sharp pain my upper left side. I still don't know what caused it, I suspect it by sleeping in a strange position or something, but it made it hard to breathe, so I thought it best to head down the hill first thing to get out of the altitude.

That didn't make a big difference, but pain medication eventually did, and so we were able to have a pretty good time despite all that. Our first stop that morning was South Fork, in Cave Creek Canyon. Among birders, this place is famous as one of the easiest places in the United States to see Elegant Trogons. No such luck for us that morning, but we wandered around and enjoyed the birds we could see, while listening to a couple of out-of-sight Trogons croaking up the hillsides.

Anyway, we eventually despaired of finding anything, so we headed into Portal. This is a little town that's not much of a town, with a store, a post office, and a library, and scattered houses around in the desert scrub. From there we made our way to Stateline Road, driving down along the New Mexico border, and looking for Scaled Quail and Bendire's Thrashers. Highlights of the drive included a Tarantula we saw walk from one state to the other, and a Scaled Quail perched up on a fence post.

Tarantula!

On the way back we stopped in Portal for lunch at the store, which is also a restaurant, and then headed back to South Fork to check out the action. We were strolling about the parking area, trolling for Trogons, when we heard some excited Mexican Jays yapping in the distance. We carefully approached the angry mob, alert for any possibility, but were puzzled because we couldn't see anything. We could tell it was something on the ground, though, and by carefully observing with our binoculars we finally picked out a snake. The jays were harassing it mercilessly, hopping around it, angrily pecking the ground and throwing leaves in the air, while the snake turned from one jay to another, threatening to strike. Our first thought was that it was a rattlesnake, but we were able to figure out later that it was a Gopher Snake. Still, it was a pretty cool experience.

That afternoon we made our way up to Barfoot Park, a meadow in the high Chiricahuas, in hopes of finding a Short-tailed Hawk. This tropical hawk used to be found only in Florida in the U.S., but has recently begun to breed in the mountains of southeastern Arizona, too. We missed the species in Florida, and so had hopes of finding it here. At first we didn't find any, though we enjoyed exploring the park. Overhead Turkey Vultures and Zone-tailed Hawks rode the afternoon thermals, and down below there was luxurious green grass, wildflowers, and more.

Zone-tailed Hawk

As we returned to our car, we picked out a distant raptor riding slowly down some thermals over a peak to our north. We set up our scope as quick as whiskers, and squinted into its eye-piece. Sure enough, it was a Short-tailed Hawk, in all its pale glory. Hurrah! We were able to watch it sink slowly down for several minutes before it passed behind the forest encircling the park, and it was with great satisfaction that we headed back to camp. Along the way we were pleased to see a family of wild turkeys, and also pleased to find a pretty little patch of flowers that was swarming with butterflies.

Libby took this nice picture of a Pacuvius Duskywing nectaring along the flower patch.

So, despite its difficult beginning, it turned out to be a great day, after all!

Pictures on Flickr, of course: Arizona 6.

Arizona Five

The main reason we went to Arizona this time was to get to the Chiricahua Mountains. This is the largest of the Madrean Sky Island mountain ranges in Southeastern Arizona, and also the furthest away, as it runs along close to the New Mexican border. It's not somewhere we can easily visit in a short weekend, so we took the full week in order to make it out there. We were not disappointed.

There is an extensive high country in the Chiricahuas, and there are roads that take you right up into it. Lush forests of Douglas-fir, Chihuahuan Pine, and Apache Pine and occasional Englemann Spruces coat its undulating peaks, and you can actually feel the altitude up above 8,000 feet. Within the forests, Mexican Chickadees are added to other high Madrean species, as well as with more familiar birds of the western mountain forests like Steller's Jays and Pygmy Nuthatches. But the Chickadees are only found here in Arizona, and only in two smaller mountain ranges in New Mexico in the United States. Adding to the mountain ranges appeal is Cave Creek Canyon, a beautiful red-walled crack in the eastern side that hosts large and easily accessible Trogon populations. All in all, the mountains have an irresistible appeal to birders!

First thing in the morning, though, we headed for the San Pedro River. A Green Kingfisher had been seen there on and off for months, and we wanted to try for it and to enjoy the local riparian avifauna. We didn't have any luck with the kingfisher, but we did see lots of Yellow-breasted Chats, heard Gray Hawks, saw Vermilion Flycatchers, and had a grand old time. Best of all, though, was a perplexing Yellow-throated Vireo that was most definitely out of place. Unfortunately, we were unable to photograph it. Still, definitely the rarest bird we found on our trip.

Next stop between Sierra Vista and the Chircahuas was at the Wilcox "lakes", where shorebirds can be found. This is not much but a muddy puddle in the middle of the desert, but it netted us a good number of shorebirds and a few species of ducks. The highlight was a group of our first ever Baird's Sandpipers, which is an expected migrant in the western deserts but rare out here on the coast. We also got to study a big mixed flock of Phalaropes to our heart's content, struggling only with triple digit temperatures and distorting heat waves.

From Wilcox it's a fairly short drive into the mountains. Our first stop was Coronado National Monument for the scenery. It was pretty cool, both literally and figuratively, as we exited our car at the visitor's center in a torrential downpour! It soon eased up, though, and we felt comfortable driving up to an exposed overlook in the as-soon again sunny conditions. Here, strange bulgy spires of rocks have eroded from the hillsides, standing like a silent army among its scrubby forests of oak, pinyon, and juniper.

Chiricahua National Monument

After soaking in the sights, it was back down the mountain and then up to Rustler Park, our campground for the evening. Along the way we were hoping to check out undeveloped Pinery Campground for Mexican Chickadees, as someone we met recommended the spot for that species. Unfortunately, our arrival there neatly coincided with the forest receiving another thorough soaking from the erstwhile monsoon, and when despite our waiting it never eased up into anything lighter than a drizzle, our half-hearted efforts netted nothing more than some distant wet-sounded twitters in the high pines.

So, instead, we headed to our campsite, of which we had our pick, as we were the only people staying there both nights. Kind of eerie to be in a developed campground by yourselves, but we didn't mind the solitude. As we were mulling over which campsite to settle on, an enormous flock of Pygmy Nuthatches moved through in the trees. By thoroughly examining the flock we were able to pick out a couple of Mexican Chickadees. We got poor looks, but we'd see them again, though never low to the ground.

That night we made ourselves a warm dinner, had one of the local little White-tailed Deer come unnervingly close to us (we moved away to keep the picnic table between us and it, just in case), and adjusted to the deliciously cool temperatures of the mountains. Such a relief to have it be in the 40s at night instead of the 70s!

Pictures at Flickr: Arizona 5.

Arizona Four

The Huachuca mountains in southeastern Arizona is the premier hummingbird watching destination in the United States. Feeder stations in its oak and pine draped canyons can attract thirteen different species of hummingbirds at the same time, though the eight species we enjoyed on our fourth day in Arizona is more typical.

Our first stop, however, was not for hummingbirds, but for warblers. Target one was Virginia's Warbler, a twitchy sharp-billed little bird reminiscent of a pale Nashville's Warbler. It lives in dry mountain shrub habitats throughout the Great Basin, but we'd somehow never found it, yet. This time we were determined to, so I studied up on habitat requirements, we listened to its song, and we put our plan into action. We stopped repeatedly on our drive up Carr Canyon that morning to pause in the cool air and listen to the singing birds. Below, Sierra Vista sprawled in the San Pedro's river valley, Fort Huachuca's buildings nestled into the folds of the Huachucas north of us, and if you looked south with your binoculars it was easy enough to pick out the border wall running across the valley floor. Pretty good views, in other words.

We found our first Virginia's Warbler with a Black-throated Gray Warbler at the top of the mountain in a pine-oak-chaparral ecotone. Hurrah!

We then drove, with stops, down to the end of the road. Along the way we enjoyed Buff-breasted Flycatchers, Greater Pewees, Yellow-eyed Juncos, and numerous Spotted Towhees. We then took a fun hike around the mountain to the upper reaches of Ramsey Canyon. One highlight of the hike was the blooming agave along the way. The nectar-rich flowers attracted a lovely variety of beautiful birds like Black-headed Grosbeaks, Virginia's Warblers, and Western Tanagers.

After our hike, we drove over to Miller Canyon to check out the hummingbird show and to try for the Spotted Owls that have been periodically seen a mile or two up the canyon's trail. We had great success with both. We were far from confident that we would see the owls. They move around a lot, and while they stick within a half mile or so stretch of the canyon, I felt that they might be anywhere in the dense oaks, maples and pines that crowded the steep canyon walls. So, we walked in some small anxiety, looking for advertised landmarks and scanning the branches of the trees. Right when we first were able to pick out "split rock", I turned to say something to Libby and saw the owls sitting a few feet away from us, almost at eye level. It was an incredible moment.

Mexican Spotted Owls

We eventually took their leave, and with thankful hearts made our way lightly back down the canyon. There we took our seats at the feeders and watched the hummingbirds. The feeders kept by the Beatty's are, in my humble opinion, the most pleasurable feeders in Arizona. All of them are very nice to visit, but I like the Beatty's feeders are on an oak-covered hill, and it seems like every time we're there it's cloudy or rainy or otherwise just pleasant. We saw lots of neat birds this time, including Berylline and White-eared Hummingbirds, which are regular but unusual in the United States.

White-eared Hummingbird

That night we had dinner at a "family restaurant" in Arizona. We enjoy patronizing little independent diner-like establishments like these, and feel comfortable and happy reviewing the day and writing up our day list over greasy, homelike food.

That evening we went back to lower Miller Canyon, where, right after dusk turned to night, we saw our first Western Screech-Owls. We'd heard them before here in California, but this was the first time we were able to actually get good looks at them.

Pictures from the day are collected here: Arizona Four.

Arizona Three

We didn't take many pictures on our third day, but that wasn't because we were bored. First thing in the morning, we got out of bed, took down camp, and headed to Florida Canyon to go for a hike. We really like this little canyon. It doesn't have a real trail, but you can hop up the rocks to a stone dam, around which there have been Rufous-capped Warblers seen for the last few years. None this summer, however, but we like the place well enough to visit it even if they're not there.

It turns out that during the summer, the canyon is pretty well choked with vegetation. It's hard to move about in it, but there are still neat birds. There were Scott's Orioles chasing each other around, and Varied Buntings singing, including some female-plumaged birds which I assume were first spring males. We also found some more tree frogs, a pretty little Ring-necked Snake, and a cool little pond with water bugs living in it.

After our hike we drove to Sierra Vista via Patagonia. This means taking the 19 south to Nogales, whence you head north-east on the 82. Just before Nogales, we pulled off and checked some ponds for Black-bellied Whistling Ducks and Tropical Kingbirds. The Kingbirds were not around, but we did find some Whistling Ducks pretty easily.

We tried again for the kingbirds at Kino Springs off of the 82, but it was hot by the time we arrived and there was precious little going on. So, we jumped back in the car. We made the obligatory stops at the Patagonia Roadside Rest, where we enjoyed Thick-billed Kingbirds and riparian birds, the Paton's, where we enjoyed Violet-crowned Hummingbirds and a nice male Rufous Hummingbird, before hitting the road, again.

Once we were into the Patagonia-Sonoita grassland area we started stopping and checking for Cassin's Sparrows, again, which would be a lifer. We'd be trying for these in any likely habitat we could find, even resorting to tapes. We had found lots of Botteri's Sparrows, but no Cassin's Sparrows. Past Sonoita, though, we pulled off onto the Elgin intersection and rolled down the window. A beautiful Cassin's Sparrow song floated in. You can hear what they sound like here. There were several singing, but it took awhile to get one into the scope. Meanwhile, we also picked up our only Lark Sparrows for the trip, and got a great look at a beautiful little Grasshopper Sparrow that came into playback and posed fetchingly on a barbed wire fence.

Then it was on to Sierra Vista, where we got the last available room at the Best Western. It was great to take showers after a couple of sweaty days of camping. After dinner we made a visit to Ash Canyon Bed and Breakfast, where we enjoyed talking to the gracious hostess, and a few other birders while we watched and waited for the local Lucifer Hummingbirds to make their evening visit. They did, and we were appropriately wowed by these neat birds before heading back to bed for the night.

A few pictures from our morning hike are here: Arizona 3.

Arizona Two

California Gulch is an out of the way little canyon near the Mexican border in Arizona. That a road makes it out there at all is a bit of a miracle -- attributable to old mining and current ranching claims in the area, and it's no surprise that this same road is not a well graded and maintained one. This road's poor quality is the reason we rented a car to begin with for our trip, and despite hearing that the road is in better condition that it has ever been in, we were happy that we had. That's because the unfortunate truth is that, for a half-mile or so, the road runs right down a stream bed.

We were up early on Sunday morning to hit the road, rising while the local Whiskered Screech-Owls and Great Horned Owls were still calling, and the sun hadn't yet visited. As we made our way down paved roads for over an hour before hitting the dirt tracks, crowds of Lesser Nighthawks were hawking insects over the monsoon dampened desert grassland, and the rosy fingers of dawn where reaching through the tattered remains of the previous night's unrest.

Thankfully, the washes were dry, and we were able to make it to California Gulch without any real difficulty. The purpose of our visit was to find one of the most localized breeding species of birds in North America - the Five-striped Sparrow. California Gulch is one of the only breeding sites to which one can drive, and is therefore the most accessible in the mercilessly hot areas where they breed.

Anyway, we made the trek. And we found the sparrows, with interest. As we got out of the car, I heard a mewing gnatcatcher that smacked strongly of a Black-capped Gnatcatcher. We played our I-Pod back to it and got a strong verbal response that was an exact match, but the bird didn't come in. It just kept going toward the Oro Blanco mine. That was a little frustrating, as we've only had poor views of this species in the winter when they didn't have their black caps. We also learned, in pursuing the bird, that Bell's Vireos have a fairly similar scolding call. Which was interesting!

As we hiked down the short, blocked off, road into the gulch, we could hear a Five-striped Sparrow singing on the hill across the way. Despite our best efforts, however, we just could not see it. That continued to be the case after we reached the bottom of the gulch, but with effort and time we finally saw, poorly, a single bird singing far away up the hill.

In the meantime we found many other wonders to ooh and ah over, like many Varied Buntings, a Northern Beardless-Tyrannulet, a Canyon Tree Frog, and a grasshopper that looked just like a few pieces of dried grass. As we walked down canyon we came across two more pairs of Five-striped Sparrows. These birds were actually down in the canyon and gave much better views. It's immensely satisfying to have such a successful expedition, and so we made our way up and out of the canyon with glee.

Our next project was to drive the scenic route back to highway 19 via Ruby Road. This lonely road winds through oak dotted grasslands, flat-topped mesas, and picturesque rolling hills. It's quite nice, but I was disappointed to not come across any Montezuma Quail on the road. These quail are reportedly more likely along this road than just about anywhere, but we didn't have any luck this time, despite constant vigilance.

We stopped for lunch at Pena Blanca lake near the eastern end of the road, where we did not see a pair of Least Grebes that were found two days later, despite looking in the exact area where they were to be found. I really kicked myself over that, but they're secretive little birds, and we didn't see any birds at all on the lake. Still, we did enjoy the Black Phoebes. Unfortunately, in this area Libby got stung by some kind of fire ant, which hurt like the dickens. She bore up as well as she could before we could get to Green Valley for some sting-eeze on our way back to Madera Canyon.

Once up in the relative coolness of the canyon, we took a visit to the feeders, and walked up the Agua Caliente trail in case of Trogons. Nothing happening except the ordinary, which is quite nice in Madera Canyon, and we returned to our camp for dinner. That evening we heard Elf Owls and I saw something fly away when we pursued the sound, but we didn't have satisfying views. We did see a Whiskered Screech-Owl quite well back at camp, which was nice, before retiring for the evening.

Pictures from the day on Flickr: Arizona Day 2.

Arizona Adventures, Part I

It was after 1:00 when we dropped into our beds at a Phoenix motel -- the first Saturday morning of our trip. It wasn't going especially well. We had hoped that by only going as far as Phoenix the first night we were going to avoid this sort of late night, but the car rental agency we had visited was bustling and it took hours to get everything sorted out.

So, there we were, late at night, tired, and not thrilled. The rough start brought a sinking gloom which colored all of our expectations for the rest of the week. As it turned out, our worries were unfounded, and the following week afforded many wonderful experiences and a particularly sweet opportunity to enjoy creation.

The next morning we got up at a reasonable hour and made our way to the western end of Aravaipa Canyon. Aravaipa Canyon is a cottonwood-lined watercourse that has been reserved by the Nature Conservancy and the BLM as a wilderness area accessed by permit only. You can drive into its parking area, though, through private property on the western end, and we hoped that, despite being limited to the access road, we would be able to find Common Black-Hawks. Black-Hawks are a very widespread tropical species, but they have a limited range in the southwestern United States. This range is actually largely outside of southeastern Arizona, and so we hadn't run across any in our previous trips. This time we were setting aside a day to look for them.

Our reasonable start landed us on the road along Aravaipa Creek at around 10:00 am, and it was already in the mid 90s. We really enjoyed having a thermometer on our rental car, as it allowed us to quantify the degrees of pain we felt every time we stepped out of it. We also had the opportunity of rejoicing every time it dropped a degree when we would drive up into the mountains.

Anyway, the best way to see Black-Hawks is to go walking in after them, but I didn't want to do that in the heat, so we hadn't secured one of the permits. Instead, we stopped many times along the road and scanned the cottonwoods for perching raptors. We had great luck with birds of prey for the day. The air was full of soaring Turkey Vultures, Harris's Hawks, Gray Hawks, Red-tailed Hawks, and we had a few exciting moments of uncertainty caused by low-flying Zone-tailed Hawks. Outside of the canyon we also saw Swainson's Hawks and a fly-over Prairie Falcon. But, there were no Black-Hawks, despite all our effort.

We still enjoyed the canyon, though, and its stately saguaros and verdant cottonwoods. Vermilion Flycatchers were feeding in pastures, while Brown-crested Flycatchers darted through mesquite thickets. Overhead there were dozens of Purple Martins -- cavity nesters that take full advantage of the holes Gila Woodpeckes make in these same Saguaros.

A bit after noon we started to drive south to Green Valley. And, wouldn't you know, but just as we begin entering the Tucson metro area, a warning light blinks on on the dash - low tire pressure. But, providentially, immediately after the light came on we drive past a Big O Tires. So, we pulled off and confirm that one of the tires had a hole, pull into Big O Tires, and get a patch! They, by the way, provided us with a great customer service experience.

The evening we spent in Madera Canyon, where we had hoped to find some owls. We didn't, but we did see a beautiful crimson sunset illuminated by distant lightning strikes - a beautiful punctuation mark on the fantastic display of color. We were serenaded by Common Poorwills on the hillsides above us, too, but with nothing else showing and rain threatening we headed back to our tent. And on the way we were inundated by a driving thunderstorm, which drove a rattlesnake across our road. That was cool. And then, later, when it had died down, we got to see an enormous toad in the campground. It was a full 5 inches long!

That night the thunder and lightning continued, and one strike was near enough that there wasn't a detectable delay between the flash and the sound. Which is pretty scary in a tent.

A couple of pictures from the day are on Flickr.

Fourth of July

Well, I wanted to keep up with our weekend ramblings around the western U.S., but I'm failing pretty miserably. We just got back from a week in Arizona, and have lots of pictures and memories to put up on this blog. In the meantime, though, I'd like to work on catching up with our previous trips.

Over the fourth of July weekend, Libby and I took the long weekend as an opportunity to head up to the Sierras. We never miss an opportunity to do this, of course, and Grandma and Grandpa had invited us to help with some of the chores involved in opening the cabin.

We left Friday night and camped just outside Big Pine. I was hoping Western Screech-Owls might be in the campground, but we didn't hear any owls at all that night. We left pretty early in the morning to do some birding on our way up to the cabin. We meant to drop by Crowley Lake, but the normal road we take down to the east shore of the lake was closed. So, we took the Benton Crossing road, instead, and had a pleasant walk along the river in the direction of the delta. Sage Thrashers, Horned Larks, and Vesper Sparrows scurried away from us in the sage and grasslands.

Our next stop was at the ranger station in town, where we found a flock of Red Crossbills feeding on Jeffrey Pine cones. With some patience we were able to get good looks at males, females and immature birds. This was a lifer, a bird that was somewhat unpredictable as it follows fruiting pine cones.

Our next stop was the nursery in town. Someone had reported that there were Evening Grosbeaks behind it somewhere. We weren't sure what that meant, but a fellow at the nursery is a birder and pointed us in the right direction. By following his directions, we had no difficulty in finding several! These are spectacular birds, and one of the local birds I had most wanted to see.

There were still good amounts of snow around the cabin, a product of an unusually late thaw. We enjoyed the cool temperatures, the budding willows, and the profusion of water that attends the onset of summer in the mountains. One afternoon, Libby and I spent a half hour watching the snow melt into the cabin creek as it enters Lake Mary. As chunks fell into the water, freed willow branches sprung into the air, and the snow blocks in the water melted visibly as the water ate away at them.

As always, it was paradise. Crisp and cool mountain air, verdant pines, and Mammoth Crest's cathedral peaks surrounding that precious little brown cabin in the woods. We had a great time with Grandma and Grandpa. It's an inexpressible blessing to spend time with them in that place, a family and spiritual home for me my whole life, and one that Libby has been growing to appreciate and share with me.

We helped take down the A-frame, gather wood, wash the windows, and sorted out the old winter food from the last couple of years. No fishing this year. The lake is still too cold, and the DFG had only planted the lake for the first time right before we came up. Apparently there is some concern over the plight of the Southwestern Willow Flycatcher - an endangered species that may suffer from competition for insect food with introduced trout. However, there's no research to support this just yet.

We also hiked up to Crystal Lake, which was quite an experience as large parts of the trail were completely obscured by several feet of snow. Instead of following the switchbacks, then, we cut up the edge of the ridge and made it expeditiously, if with a little more effort than normal.

We also took an early morning hike to Emerald Lake, where we endured temperatures in the 40s to observe White-crowned and Lincoln's sparrows singing in the meadows, Wilson's Warblers flitting through the just-budding willows, and Golden-crowned Kinglets singing in the pine forest along the way. It's interesting food for thought to consider how this very late summer has effected the migrants, which must have been on territory in deep snow for much longer than normal this year. I imagine it will mean a much lower rate of nesting success.

On our final day, we hiked up to McLeod Lake. This short trail was much dryer than the Crystal Lake trail, with only a couple of patches of snow, but a walk around the lake found some deep drifts persisting in our way.

All in all, it was a completely wonderful trip. More pictures can be found on Flickr.

Arizona Weekend

Summer is really flying by. The last three weekends have given us the opportunity to visit Arizona, Mammoth and the San Gorgonio Wilderness in the local mountains. I really feel driven to experience the summer months while I still can, as in August I'll be working on Saturdays.

So, I feel like I ought to say a little bit about each weekend for posterity. Perhaps I ought to journal somewhere else, too, but this is as convenient a place as any to write about our trips, and it might be that a few other people will be interested in hearing about what we're up to. I imagine it's just a few other people, though!

Libby picked up at work that Friday afternoon and we started driving east immediately. Despite traffic, we made it to Green Valley by 12:30.

The next morning we were up early and began working our way up Madera Canyon. Our first stop was at Proctor Road, where we were surprised to find a Yellow-billed Cuckoo in the mesquite bosque. This was probably a late spring migrant. As we hiked up the canyon to the first picnic area, we enjoyed Ash-throated and Brown-crested Flycatchers, Mexican Jays, Bridled Titmice, a Lucy's Warbler and many singing Bell's Vireos. We settled down at the waterfall down below the parking lot to watch birds come in to drink. This netted us fantastic views of House Finches, Blue Grosbeaks and Varied Buntings. The Varied Buntings were especially cooperative, occasionally flying within a few feet of us as they foraged near the ground. Unfortunately, we weren't able to get any pictures.

There were also numerous Pipevine Swallowtails, like the one above, around Proctor Road.

We then drove all the way up the canyon because we were really hoping to see a Trogon. We meandered our way up the trail there, watching numerous Western Wood-Pewees and White-breasted Nuthatches foraging along the way. We also had our first Painted Redstarts of the day, lots of House Wrens, and, finally, an Elegant Trogon. We heard it at the same time we heard our first Sulfur-bellied Flycatchers of the day, and had to make a decision about which to pursue. The flycatchers were being uncharacteristically unobtrusive, but a trogon is the more wonderful bird, so we made the right choice and started following its strange call. Eventually, we both found it sitting in a tree across the canyon from us. It was distant, but we were able to see it well as it punctuated its sedentary habits with lethargic forays for flying insects. Fun!

As the day warmed, we worked our way down the canyon and watched the feeders. Bronzed Cowbirds, Hepatic Tanagers, and Broad-billed Hummingbirds were among the attractions at the feeders. We even found a Hepatic Tanager feeding a scraggly featherless baby near one of the feeder stations. We met some very nice birders from West Virginia who were looking for the Flame-colored Tanager. Unfortunately, it hasn't been visiting the feeders lately, and so we didn't get to see it.

In the afternoon, we set up camp at Bog Springs Campground, and sweated our socks off trying to take an afternoon nap in the 100 degree heat. In the afternoon, we made another tour of the feeders, especially waiting at Madera Kubo to see if the Berylline Hummingbird or Flame-colored Tanager would come in. The Berylline did, as well as a female Blue-throated, eventually, but the Flame-colored Tanager didn't. That's ok. We spent the rest of the daylight waiting for the famous Elf Owl to come out of his hole at the Santa Rita Lodge. Alas, we were disappointed, as he never showed, but we did hear Whip-poor-wills and Whiskered Screech Owls calling in the distance as the dusk gathered thickly around us.

Our neighbors at the campground were birders from Oregon who had seen and heard Whiskered Screech-Owls at their campsite the night before. So, when we got back, they whistled one in for us. It was incredible to see this feisty little bird and his staring yellow eyes glaring at us. They called for a long time that evening, and the campground appeared to be chock full of them. My favorite moment with one came while I was brushing my teeth. I heard a noise behind me, turned around, and found one staring at me from eye level a few feet away. It then proceeded to begin dismantling what it appeared to be a very large insect that it had caught.

We did, also, hear some Elf Owls calling from down the hill during the night. But they were some distance away and we didn't find them. Also, in the very early morning hours, Common Poorwills were very vocal from the surrounding hillsides.

The next morning we were up at dawn to go for a hike to Bog and Kent Springs. Last year we hiked up to Josephine Saddle and into the pine zone, but this year we took this more modest hike into upper riparian forests, mixed oak and pine woodland, and chaparral. Bog Springs was incredibly birdy. By tooting like a Pygmy-Owl, we attracted a huge crowd of angry birds. There were lots of Plumbeous Vireos, Western Tanagers, Hepatic Tanagers, Sulfur-bellied Flycatchers, and Western Wood-Pewees.

At Kent Springs, we found a cooperative Red-faced Warbler, a frighteningly familiar Magnificent Hummingbird that made some close passes at Libby's red hat, and lots more Painted Redstarts.


We arrived back at camp before 11:00 in the morning, packed up, and headed home content with a great weekend. There are some more pictures - of Libby, me, springs, trees, mountains, flowers, butterflies, and birds at our Flickr page.

Goodbye, Florida

An Osprey perched in Mangroves on Sugarloaf Key.

Our last day in Florida started much like our first day - in the warm darkness of the early morning. This time, though, the lifting darkness was punctuated by the song of a retiring Chuck-Will's-Widow in the nearby pinewoods of Big Pine Key. It seemed a world and ages from the wailing Limpkins of Kissimmee.. After stowing our luggage in the trunk of our car, we turned west to Sugarloaf Key to look for Mangrove Cuckoos.

We arrived there after the sun was already up, greeted cheerily by Cardinals' and Prairie Warblers' songs. A mixed flock of warblers moved through the trees, including our only bright male American Redstart of the trip. The grassy verges of the road hosted Indigo Buntings, and Red-bellied Woodpeckers noisily made their breakfasts while squabbling with each other over the table scraps.

No Mangrove Cuckoos, however, showed themselves. A single bird called quietly in the distance once, but we never saw it. This was disappointing, as this was our last chance for the birds. As the morning warmed we got back on the road to Key West, hoping for some migrants in the parks there.

We decided to try Key West Indigenous Park, as it had had a Thick-billed Vireo reported about a week previously. There, among the many feral chickens that call Key West home and the hordes of Gray Catbirds, we found our only Red-eyed Vireo of the trip. There was also another Worm-eating Warbler, which was only our second ever. But in general it was pretty quiet. This was the first place in Florida we saw Green Iguana, which was interesting. Several of these giant lizards were hanging out over a pond in the park. And, on the grass, there was a Florida Box Turtle. I'm not sure if it was wild or not.

Alas, we soon had to go. We were flying out of Fort Lauderdale early in the morning, and so we had to get back on the road to make the long slow drive out of the Keys. We did have one last significant bird on the way out, though. Just off the Seven Mile Bridge was a smallish, bright white tern. Its long tail, white wings, and thin bill all marked it as a Roseate Tern - a lifer! Unfortunately we were zipping by at freeway speeds, so it was far from satisfactory. We'll see another one someday, I'm sure.

It was getting to be late afternoon by the time we arrived at our next destination. Since a bit of a storm seemed to be blowing up (it sprinkled that evening and rained the next day after we left), we decided to go back to Bill Baggs Cape Florida State Park again, just off of Miami. We were hoping to get lucky and see some more migrant landbirds, or luckier and see the Western Spindalis we had missed earlier.

Well, there wasn't any sort of fall-out due to the weather. It was dead there, except for the one fruiting tree the Spindalis had been visiting earlier. We didn't see that bird, but we did see our first ever female Black-throated Blue Warbler and our first ever male Cape May Warbler. So, that was nice.

We finished our trip in style by eating Cuban-style seafood at the grill in the park before heading to our hotel for the night. The next day around noon we were walking out of LAX into California's blessed weather. It was in the high 50s, cloudy, and an ocean breeze was refreshingly cold as it caressed our faces. It was good to be home.

Just a couple of pictures on Flickr.

The Dry Tortugas

Fort Jefferson and Garden Key (from Wikipedia)

There is no question that the high point of our trip to Florida was our trip to Dry Tortugas National Park. We were looking forward to it all week with mingled excitement and trepidation. After all, visiting these remote islands requires a two and a half hour boat trip from Key West. And, then, you have to come back for another two and a half hours. What if we got sea sick on the way out? And then we had to come back? On the other hand, it offered a totally new experience - the long boat ride itself was the longest we'd ever been "at sea", and the destination itself was tantalizing.

Well, our experience more than fulfilled our expectations without realizing any of our fears. The boat trip out was wonderful. The catamaran roared along at high speed on a glassy sea with little to no swell. In a few of the channels it would rise to 3 or 4 feet, but that was just fun. Along the way we saw sea turtles, flying fish, and lots of Portuguese Man O' Wars. Best of all we saw several pelagic species - Northern Gannets were flying by in lines, Brown Boobies sat on the water, a Bridled Tern flew by, and a few Audubon's Shearwaters skimmed the water in the distance. As we approached the islands, our first Brown Noddies and Sooty Terns joined in the fray. These species nest only here in the continental U.S.

Magnificent Frigatebirds and Brown Boobies perch on a channel marker.

Once moored on the island we hurried into the fort to look for landbird migrants. Garden Key is a well known migrant trap in the birding world. It provides the only patch of land between Cuba and Florida for trans-Caribbean migrants, and those that stop are concentrated into small buttonwood trees. We immediately started seeing birds. There were Prairie Warblers, Black and White Warblers, a couple of Yellow-crowned Night Herons, and a bunch of Yellow-billed Cuckoos. We covered the parade grounds thoroughly, but were a little disappointed. There were a few migrants, sure, and they were fun to see, but there weren't a lot. We knew the place wasn't living up to its potential.

Ah well, the fort was interesting on its own right! There were original rusting canons, intricate brickwork, molding dark stairwells, and all the time the brilliant tropical sea just outside its buttresses glinted in aquamarine splendor through the canon ports.

Then we had lunch, and walked around the sea wall enjoying the tropical fish. Most people come to the Tortugas to snorkel. That seems like a great idea, and if we'd had a little more time we would have done so, ourselves. Instead, after dropping by the coaling deck to scan for Black Noddies and get close views at Brown ones and checking the nearby bushes for possible migrant thrushes, swallows, and owls (unsuccessfully), we popped back into the fort for one last sweep of the grounds.

Brown Noddy perching on an old piling.

By now time was running out. We only had four hours on the island, and we'd used more than three of those. Unfortunately, it turned out. As we took a seat on a shaded bench, we noticed some activity in the trees. Warblers had arrived! There must have been a wave of migration that arrived mid-day because all of a sudden we were seeing multiple Hooded Warblers, our first ever Worm-eating Warbler, a Black-whiskered Vireo, more Prairie Warblers, and a few Summer Tanagers. We took notice, and approaching another birder, I asked him what he'd been seeing. While we were talking, I saw the uniquely golden flash of a Prothonotary Warbler! I beckoned to Libby, and she proceeded to have very satisfying life views of this incredible bird.

A Hooded Warbler that got in our faces.

Meanwhile, a male Scarlet Tanager had arrived, and there were Orioles and a Yellow-throated Vireo, and another Prothonotary Warbler, and... it was time to go! It was so difficult to pull ourselves away from the feast of birds. There were dozens, and there was no way we'd seen them all. Still, the boat was leaving, and we were leaving with it, so we scurried for the dock as quickly as we could. Along with a pair of birders from Vermont we'd been birding with in the fort, we were the last people on board.

We weren't done with birds, though. On the way out the boat took a stop (just for us!) at Hospital Key to drink in some distant views of the Masked Booby colony. And, just after steaming for home, one came flying right over the foredeck.

We spent most of the trip back resting in the shade, satisfied and worn out by the constant sun and humid heat.

When we arrived back in Key West we followed the advice of the birders we talked to on the trip and dropped by Fort Zachary Taylor State Park. Fort Zachary Taylor was an old Civil War brick fort, too, but it was covered in concrete and updated to hold modern armaments during the world wars, so it's much less pretty. On the grounds, though, we saw our first ever Wood Thrush, and picked up the only Kentucky Warbler we saw on the trip.

We wound up the day with Thai Food and Key Lime Pie - only this time it was a meringue pie. Awesome!

More pictures are on Flickr.

The Keys!

There's a song I learned in elementary school that went something like this:

How do you get to an island?
An island far away?
You have to cross the water...
'Cuz that's the only way!

Well, for the Florida Keys there's a bridge - so that's settled.

Wet set out from the Miami area early on Thursday morning for the drive across said bridge. Actually, though, we took the back route to Key Largo. Instead of taking Highway 1 for free, we shelled out a buck and took the Card Sound Road route. Because Card Sound Road has birds. I'll wait for you to pick up your jaws. Ok, now we can continue.

Our first stop of the trip was at the actual toll booth. Well, just before it. The mangroves in this area are supposed to be a reliable place for the Cuban subspecies of Yellow Warbler. Despite the fact that we arrived in the early morning, they weren't singing. It was just quiet. That was sort of a theme for the day's birding.

Key Largo's best feature is that the state has preserved extensive stands of West Indian hardwood forest. While much of it is inaccessible, Dagny Johnson Key Largo Hammock Botanical State Park (how's that for a place name?) provides access to some of its habitat. The place is also known as a somewhat reliable place to find Mangrove Cuckoos.

Well, I really wanted to see some Mangrove Cuckoo, but we didn't have any luck. We birded our way down Card Sound Road to the Park, stopping here and there at cuts in the forest to look for cuckoos and other songbirds, but nothing much was singing besides Prairie Warblers and Cardinals. Still, it was fun to see White-crowned Pigeons winging overhead. The pigeons were pretty common throughout the Keys, if you had your eye open for them. Usually you'd just see them streaking overhead as they scurried from one fruiting tree to another.

Once in the park we enjoyed good looks on the entrance road of Northern Cardinals and White-eyed Vireos. Then we pressed on further into the park where there were no birds doing anything. At least, if there were birds doing things they were doing them quietly where we couldn't see them.

On the way back out we ran into a couple of birders from New York City. We joined forces, and they pointed out this neat butterfly:

A Julia

I think it's really fantastic. They were great people, and gave us good advice on other places to visit in the Keys since it was our first time down. And they gave us their phone number if we ever need a place to stay in Queens. So, we're talking really nice people.

While we were talking and walking, I heard a singing vireo. We tracked it down and found it was a Black-whiskered Vireo! Not only a lifer, but a Florida specialty. We went through all the sometimes comical but often frustrating motions of getting everybody a chance to see the bird as it flitted about unconcernedly behind leaves above us, but I think maybe half of us got really satisfying looks. Since we were craning our necks anyway, it was convenient we also found a couple of cool tree snails.

Eventually we got back on the road. We stopped at a bird restoration place where Brown Pelicans were walking around at your feet, or perching ominously above your head. I heard Yellow Warblers singing in the mangroves here, but we couldn't see them. But we did see our first ever Great White Heron. In the Keys and the far southern tip of Florida, Great Blue Herons are white. In a fitful exercise of someone's powerful imaginative faculty, they've been dubbed Great White Herons.

Anyway, then we drove for a couple of hours down to Big Pine Key. As we drove, we oohed and ahhed at the beautiful shade of blue the ocean around us was wearing. It was just incredible. We stopped and took some pictures with Drago, but none of them really show the awesome color.

Libby poses with her new friend.

We stopped in Marathon to look for Roseate Terns on the roofs of the government buildings, which weren't showing, before we headed off over the seven mile bridge. While on the bridge we had one of our coolest and least expected experiences in the Keys. A Brown Booby flew right over our car! This is a pretty unusual bird for North America, period, and we were thrilled to see one so close. We saw more later at the Dry Tortugas, but none as close as the glimpse we got of this one. Of course, we were going by it at 60 odd miles per hour, and what with it going the other way it was a brief look, but still very nice.

Anyway, we stopped next at a Bahia Honda State Park, where it was really hot and the water looked really good. Since the birds weren't doing anything, we hurried on to our motel, checked in, changed, and came back to go swimming! Which was fun. Although it was sort of weird swimming in an ocean without waves. What do you do?

That night we had awesome food at Coco's Diner on Big Pine Key. Shrimp and fried Yellow-fin Snapper (whole!) were both very tasty, the hot sauce was all habenero based, I got fried plantains as a side (very interesting), we had Cuban bread for starters (excellent), and Libby's shrimp was just absolutely the plumpest, juiciest, best tasting shrimp we've ever experienced.

So that was alright. Oh, and then, because Coco's Diner was closing already, we skipped on the chance for Key Lime Pie there and went over to the Winn-Dixie to find a slice. Which we obtained through monetary exchange, and then ate. Our first Key Lime pie of the trip. It was good.

And, since the best time of day in South Florida is the early morning or late evening, we took a nice walk in mangrove habitat looking for Mangrove Cuckoos. Nothing happening, but it was very nice. Seeing Key Deer was nice, too. We saw quite a few that evening both on the roads and on our walk.

Pictures on Flickr.

Next day? Dry Tortugas!

Desert Camping

Atop a hill

Luke is going to Korea to slave away in the salt mines of English teaching. His one request was that we take a camping trip in the desert before we left.

Consider said request fulfilled.

Dustin picked me up Saturday morning. Then we swung by Luke's grandparents' place to pick him up. Then we slipped through LAX and picked Lem up. And then we were on our way!

We arrived in Lancaster around lunch time, so we pulled off the freeway for some Thai food. Then we stopped by the road at some ruined houses for photo-taking. Then we at Red Rock Canyon State Park. Where we spent the night. And had a fire. And had hobo dinners with salmon.

Also, fire-roasted potatoes are awesome. And roasting marshmallows pre-soaked in gin.

In the morning I took a walk before dawn to check the visitor's center's patch of cottonwoods for migrants. Just a few orioles, warblers and Lincoln's Sparrows had dropped in over night. The highlight of the morning was probably stumbling on a Sage Sparrow's nest.

On the way home, we stopped by the California Poppies in the Antelope Valley. The spectacle was spectacular, but perhaps surpassed by the wonder of seeing hundreds of people wandering around in these vibrant orange fields. The preserve itself was so packed we couldn't get in!

Luke put up pictures on his flickr.

I put up pictures on my flickr.

Lem should put up pictures on his flickr.

Dustin didn't take any pictures. Tsk.

Everglades National Park

A view of the national park.

Libby and I have visited a few of America's National Parks out here near the southwestern corner of the United States. Most of them offer dramatic scenery on a massive scale. The Grand Canyon is a mind bending crack in the earth. Yosemite has soaring granite landscapes. Carlsbad Caverns has unworldly cave formations. Everglades National Park's landscape can't really compare with these.

It's flat. That's it's thing. You drive 50 miles or something and your elevation changes about three feet. To someone whose grown up surrounded by something called "topography" that's pretty unremarkable. Still, despite its definite lack of splendor, it still manages to be interesting. And, it's like nothing we'd ever seen before.

The Everglades are a place everyone hears about, but I don't think the area is somewhere everyone really knows about. It turns out that the everglades are an enormous river system. Before Florida was developed, wetlands flowed from the southern end of Lake Okeechobee south to the Bay of Florida on the southwestern corner of the peninsula. That's about a hundred miles. Because this part of Florida is mostly a flat limestone sheet, the water flowed in a single sheet miles wide and inches deep at a very slow rate; it only descended an inch or two per mile.

Because the southern edge of Lake Okeechobee has been developed, Everglades National Park and adjacent reserves protect the remnants of this unique water system. The park service pumps water into the wetlands to augment the lack of lake water. Don't get me wrong, though. The remnants are extensive, and preserve pretty capably the aquatic system's character.

So the experience of the Everglades, at least from the Homestead entrance, is of primarily a few different ecosystems defined by very small elevation changes. There are extensive tropical pinewood hammocks near the northern edge on limestone shelves above the level of the water. Then there is wet sawgrass prairie in the water itself stretching way off into the horizon. Dotted here and there in the prairie are patches of tropical hardwood forest growing in accumulated debris and some dwarf Pond Cypress forest in solution holes. Finally, near the ocean you start running into extensive mangrove forest.

All of these were something we've never seen before, and we found exploring them to be the primary interest of the park. It's not naturally awe inspiring or spectacular like our western National Parks, but with some time and patience it yields the inherent interest it holds.

Our first goal for the morning was to look for Chuck-Will's-Widows in the pine hammocks area at the entrance. We got there half an hour before sunrise and got out of the car to catch the tail end of their nocturnal performance.

Our next goal for the morning was to find some Cape Sable Seaside Sparrows. These secretive birds live in the wet sawgrass of the Snake River Slough. They're accessible from the road near a place called Mahogany Hammock. We arrived in time to watch the sun rise. While it rose, Eastern Meadowlarks and Red-winged Blackbirds were singing in the rushes and sawgrass. No sparrows, though. In fact, we never heard them sing, but we did end up seeing a couple of them. A few birds perched up high enough in the rushes that we were able to get distant but identifiable scope views of this distinctive subspecies of Seaside Sparrow.

As a sad footnote, it's worth mentioning Florida once hosted two distinctive subspecies of Seaside Sparrows (distinctive enough to be sometimes considered full species). The Dusky Seaside Sparrow lived in the area of Cape Canaveral and Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge, but went extinct due largely to salt marsh mosquito abatement efforts. The last known individual of this unique taxon died in captivity at Disney World in 1987.

Next we headed to Mahogany Hammock for a morning walk. This was the first large tropical hardwood hammock we'd visited in Florida. In the Everglades and Keys, the vast majority of the flora is of tropical origin - something like 80% of the plants are from areas south of the USA. Curiously, most of the fauna is temperate and comes from the rest of North America. It was interesting to walk around in these jungle like environments. Trees with exotic names like Poisonwood, Gumbo Limbo, Strangler Fig, and West Indian Mahogany were festooned with bromeliads, orchids and epiphytic ferns. Bird-wise, the place was less than hopping, though. We did get our life look at a roosting flock of White-crowned Pigeons, but mostly the place was full of Catbirds and I seem to remember a White-eyed Vireo and Black-and-White Warbler.

So, after this little exploratory stop, we backtracked north to the Anhinga Trail. The Anhinga Trail is closest to my vague impressions of what the Everglades would be. Visitors can walk along a boardwalk and view wading birds at close range. That was pretty cool. There were also alligators aplenty and turtles and fish. The marsh there hosts an interesting fresh water swamp tree called Pond Apples that reminded me of a fresh water version of a mangrove.

We were searching the area for a reported Smooth-billed Ani. It was seen before and after our visit, but we weren't able to find it while we were there. From the same parking lot we took a hike through the Gumbo Limbo Trail, which explores a hardwood hammock that's still recovering from Hurricane Andrew. We ate lunch here before fleeing an enormous school field trip.

Our escape route was south again, into the park, stopping at various overlooks and trails. There aren't a lot of bathrooms in the park, so we had to stop at West Lake and explore their mangrove trail. We learned about how mangrove forest diversity is tiered on distance from the water. And that there are multiple species of mangroves - like Black Mangroves (which we saw in Texas), Red Mangroves with long stilt-like roots, White Mangroves and Buttonwood. It was very educational.

Before leaving the parking lot we really smeared on some mosquito repellent. We rolled down our sleeves and buttoned up all of our buttons. Our next stop? The Snake Bight Trail - infamous as the worst spot for mosquitoes in the continental United States, but also famous as a pretty awesome birding location.

I really wanted to see what the fuss was all about, and Libby was willing, though not thrilled, to follow me. So we went! And there was not one single mosquito there! Instead, there were dozens of migratory songbirds. We saw Painted Buntings, singing Prairie Warblers, Northern Waterthrushes, Northern Parulas, Black-and-White Warblers, Black-throated Blue Warblers, American Redstarts, White-eyed Vireos, Blue-headed Vireos, and lots of beautiful butterflies called Zebra Longwings.

The butterflies were a lot easier to take pictures of than the birds were.

This was the only place in the park where we encountered songbird flocks that weren't almost all Gray Catbirds (though there were Gray Catbirds there, too). We also had more White-crowned Pigeons. Unfortunately, the cost of all these birds was stifling heat. There was no air movement in the gap of trees, and we were sweating hard. So, after an hour or so, we turned around and headed back.

As another little tangent - I had a close-up encounter with an Alligator here. After we realized there weren't any mosquitoes, we decided to keep walking further on the trail than we'd originally planned. So, I ran back to the car to get some fluids. When I got there, I opened up the passenger door to get our field guide from the car's passenger door pocket. As it swung out, something moved in the adjacent tall grass and I thought, "Hmm, bird." So I started scrutinizing the base of the log laying there for a waterthrush or something. Then it registered that the trunk was a leg. And that it was the hind leg of a large alligator. And that the front leg and adjacent large teeth were much closer. So I hopped back in panic. Which left the front door open. So I had to close it. Which meant going back.

Anyway, our next stop was Flamingo. That's an interesting little place at the southern tip of the park where you camp. They have a visitor's center, which was somewhat interesting. We had some ice cream and looked around for American Crocodiles. We saw one's tail sticking out of the mangroves (they are a different color than the more common alligators), but none were out in the open. There were lots of Osprey, a couple of Bald Eagles, lots of Brown Pelicans and wading birds, etc. We surveyed a flock of Willets on the limestone shelf that substitutes for a beach down there for a vagrant Bar-tailed Godwit that had been reported, but we didn't find it. We also missed Shiny Cowbirds that are sometimes reported from the visitor's center lawns there. We did find a few Brown-headed Cowbirds, but they're somewhat less exciting. The Indigo Buntings in the trees were cool, though.

Then we drove out. We stopped again at the Anhinga Trail to look for the Ani without success, but got to hear a pair of hooting Barred Owls in the late afternoon in the area of the Gumbo Limbo Trail. We tried to hunt them down, but weren't able to see them before they stopped calling. We did find a Brown Thrasher and a Swainson's Thrush, though. I believe the Swainson's Thrush was a previously reported wintering bird. That's incredibly rare, as Swainson's Thrushes migrate to South America every year.

And then we drove back to Miami for the night. Next day? The Florida Keys!

Pictures on Flickr.

Miami

We spent one day birding in Miami. It started out very slow, but it ended with success.

We started the morning at Kendall Baptist Hospital (which an accident made difficult to reach) to look for exotics. We started by wandering the lakes in front of the hospital looking for parrots, bulbuls and orioles. We didn't have any luck. There were plenty of Muscovy Ducks, Palm Warblers, and Grackles, though. Perhaps most interesting was the mixed flock of Red-masked and Red-mitred Parakeets that were flying around the grounds. But we have Red-mitred Parakeets in La Mirada, too, and we were hoping to get lucky with White-winged Parakeets - which would have been new. Since nothing was happening, we headed across the street to wander the neighborhoods looking for bulbuls and orioles.

It was pleasant over there. The streets were nicely manicured and full of nice eastern species. Blue Jays were common and we saw several Baltimore Orioles - which were our only for the trip. We also saw some White-winged Doves. Since Florida is just chock full of Eurasian Collared-Doves this southwestern exotic was a nice change. We spent the remainder of the relatively cool morning here, but there were no bulbuls. Or Spot-breasted Orioles. So we got back in the car and headed off.

We worked our way north along the one in the city and checked some other neighborhoods our book recommended for these species. No luck! So we checked the Tropical Audubon Society house for the orioles. Closed! At this point, the morning was almost gone. It was getting hot, and we hadn't found a single target, yet. So we made for the sea.

Our next destination was Bill Baggs Cape Florida State Park. On the southernmost tip of Key Biscayne, a barrier island north of the true keys, we were hoping to find a rare La Sagra's Flycatcher, and to check out a true migrant trap. We did pretty well for ourselves there.

First off, the drive over was nice. The causeway affords great views of Miami, and the water stretching out underneath is a pale tropical blue. On the island there were palms and sea grape and an occasional refreshing ocean breeze. Sure it was warm, but any air movement is a relief in the stifling humility.

There was also another lighthouse! While not nearly as high as Ponce de Leon, it was very nice. From the top, we could look down into the crystal water and got to see some very large stingrays swim by. That was awesome.

The lighthouse at Bill Baggs.

As we left the lighthouse we heard a calling Myiarchus flycatcher. We rushed after it and voila! there was the La Sagra's Flycatcher. We got hugely lucky, as we ran into some birders from northwest (Alaska and Washington) who had spent all morning looking without finding it. But they let us know there had been a Western Spindalis (a Caribbean tanager) discovered the day before in the park. They took us to the tree, but we never saw it. Still, the fruiting tree was attracting some migrant warblers, and we got our lifer Cape May and Black-throated Blue Warblers there. The tree also hosted some beautiful Prairie Warblers with unusually orange heads - a caretenoid pigment issue that made them look a lot like Blackburnians.

La Sagra's Flycatcher at Bill Baggs

Because of the Spindalis report, we ended up spending more time at the park than we might have otherwise, waiting in the shade of the tree and hoping to get a lucky glimpse of the bird. We we followed the advice of the birders we'd met and scanned all the telephone wires for Kingbirds. We eventually found some Gray Kingbirds - some of the year's first arrivals. This was another lifer, and a little later, a single Magnificent Frigatebird joined a Turkey Vulture above the seacoast at a great height. Now, that's a classy bird.

Anyway, eventually it was time to get going, so we headed out and north to Fort Lauderdale to look for Smooth-billed Anis. This species is a Caribbean specialty that has almost gone extinct in its North American range, so I was hoping against hope that we would be able to find one this trip. After all, who knows how much more time we have to see it (in the U.S., anyway)?

Unfortunately, we missed it. The vacant lot they're known to frequent is in a run down and poor area, and though we persisted despite the slightly unnerving atmosphere in walking around the lots a few times, we didn't see anything.

So, we headed back down to the hospital area again hoping to take an evening walk in the neighborhoods to take another crack at the orioles and bulbuls. After taking a relaxing dinner at an Italian restaurant in the area, we did just that. This time we double-checked the book to make sure we were walking the correct streets. It turned out we'd been one block too far west. I guess it makes a big difference because this time we saw dozens of Bulbuls and a family group of two or three Spot-breasted Orioles. It was a great relaxing evening walk, too, and a great capstone to an otherwise not-stellar outing.

Pictures on Flickr.

Next day? The Everglades!

Shuttles, Pinewoods and Peanuts

A space shuttle launch is an experience that I don't have the ability to express in words. I can throw out some apt descriptors, if you'd like. We can try words like awesome and sublime, or toy with superlatives like incredible or spectacular. But those words seem cheap and hollow in comparison to the simple memory I carry of a bright light arcing across the Atlantic and dipping into the sunrise.

Maybe I can't express the moment because I don't know why it was so powerful. What is it about space travel that fascinates us so much? Is it national pride? Pride in human accomplishment? Could it be a hubristic impulse in my lowly human nature? Did the U.S. build a new tower of Babel on the sandy beaches of Florida's Atlantic seashore?

Maybe it's the naked power of the event. The glaring fireball that rises into the sky does so with a sort of labored deliberateness that belies its cataclysmic power. The only appropriate metaphors for the sound - the rumbling tortured roar - are from natural disasters. It's like a continual thunder, a volcanic belch, or an earthquake's deep rumble.

Maybe it's the aesthetic wonder of the thing. The glooming dark and the enlivening light on the fringe of a peaceful deep sea; the soft white sand under our feet and the gentle sky embracing the scene; the sunrise and the delicate wake carved in it by the spacecraft as it became a distant star; All were gentle touches that contraposed themselves to the power of the thing. Even the glowing cloud floating in its wake and catching the first light of a new day was something wonderful.

Or, maybe, it's the archetypical meaning of the event. Has Icarus' ambition succeeded? Or has Phaeton learned how to handle his father's steeds? Mankind seems to defy sacred laws when he leaves the shelter of his given home. Ultimately, I may never know. But I'll always have that moment to revisit.

Sunrise and shuttle contrail.

The amazing thing about this sort of experience is that it ends, and even more amazing is that it left us most of the rest of the day for other things! So now it's time to shift gears and just record the rest of the day for posterity. It was a good thing it was still early because we were heading south to Miami. We started out heading south on the Cocoa Beach barrier island in order to avoid the crowds. This took us by Patrick Air Force Base's long sandy stretch of beach, so we stopped to take in our first Atlantic sunrise (in picture above).

While we were there we picked up a few shorebirds for our list, mused over whether or not distant Royal Terns could be Northern Gannets, and missed a lifer when a dark-backed gull flew by in the middle distance. We didn't know if it was a Lesser or Greater Black-backed Gull, but either would have been new to us. We also got overflown by a landing C-130. Pretty sweet!

Then we were off again! We soon turned inland and made for Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area. This was an area designated to protect a virgin Longleaf Pine forest and its game inhabitants (White-tailed Deer, Wild Turkey, Northern Bobwhite, and feral pigs). We were there for something else, though. It also contains a large population of Red-cockaded Woodpecker, an endangered species that uses Longleaf Pines for nesting. We were also shooting for Brown-headed Nuthatch and Bachman's Sparrows - two other southeastern species that use the pine forest habitat.

We did great! We got all three very easily despite dire warnings from a game warden at the entrance. The thing is, the Red-cockaded Woodpeckers only visit their nest holes around dawn and dusk, but we were there mid-morning. Despite the improbability, we got the birds in a big mixed flock within a few minutes of entering the reserve. Singing Bachman's Sparrows were common to within a few feet of our car, and the Nuthatches were mixed into the foraging flock that contained the nuthatches. We also go a great look at a Pileated Woodpecker here.

Unfortunately, not many pictures. But here's a nice one of Libby after we got the birds.

A happy lady

Since it was so easy for us to find the birds, and we'd given ourselves all day to do it - this was our only opportunity on the trip - we decided to explore the rest of the area a little further.

Our first stop was for gas and a restroom. While waiting for the bathroom to open up, I discovered that they were selling boiled peanuts. This being such a southern specialty, I knew that we had to get some. So we did. And they were amazing! Soft, fatty, salty, perfect! Oh yum!

We then birded Joe Overstreet Road, which is a fairly well known birding location. It took us out to Lake Kissimmee, providing views of Florida Crested Caracaras along the way, along with Sandhill Cranes, Wood Storks, Kildeer, and other grassland loving species. It was good fun, but after lunch it was time to hit the road. Destination: Miami.

We took the Ronald Reagan turnpike south through miles and miles of flat country. We saw big citrus orchards stretching off to the horizon, and Swallow-tailed Kites playing above the freeway. After what seemed like forever, we arrived at our motel in Kendall. This was our base for three nights, and we headed out to check it out.

Miami is well known for its big populations of established exotics. They have even more parrots than southern California or south Texas, an introduced tropical oriole (Spot-breasted), Red-whiskered Bulbuls, and Common and Hill Mynas (though only Common is currently countable). On our first foray through the town we found Monk Parakeets in a CVS parking lot. We got Common Mynas in the gutter outside a Wendy's parking lot (the guide recommends fast-food parking lots for this species). But the best bird of the afternoon was our first Prairie Warbler. These were very common in Florida, but it was a pleasure to get to know such a beautiful bird so well.

Our next day was planned for more Miami birding. Pictures from the day can be found on Flickr.