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.