Showing posts with label birding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birding. Show all posts

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Alabama Coastal BirdFest


A week and a half ago, Pia, Holly and I flew to Alabama for the BirdFest. We'd been lured there by my Facebook friend Fran, who appears to be the head organizer. The area around Mobile sees large numbers of migratory birds come through on their way to and from their winter homes in South America. The birds aren't in their breeding finery in autumn, but I didn't mind the challenge of identifying birds in their wintry plumage.

On the day of our arrival, the weather was warm and humid. Mosquitoes would gather whenever we stood still. We wondered if we'd have any blood left in our veins after the weekend. As one birder had posted in a birding group, "the mosquitoes enjoyed a blood cocktail with a DEET chaser". However, the weather broke with a storm that evening, and the rest of our stay was relatively skeeter-free.


On that first evening, we attended a BirdFest social at the Five Rivers Delta resource Center. Fran spotted us as we approached, and gave us a warm welcome. It seems she had told a number of people about us. It seemed that everywhere we turned, someone would greet us with "are you the ladies who came all the way from California?". I'm not used to feeling so comfortable amid a crowd of strangers; everyone was lovely.


The next morning, Friday, we arose at O-dark thirty so we could make it to our first birding tour. In the morning we went to Weeks Bay for a boat ride up the Fish and Magnolia Rivers. It was a lot colder than I had expected it would be, and had left my vest & jacket in our room. But I tapped into my Scottish heritage (and life on Humboldt Bay), and found it wasn't so bad. It was a challenge to birdwatch with a canopy overhead and other birders in the way at times. But nice to see the area from the river, rather than from land. The weather had scared off a lot of birds, but we still saw some hardy specimens. My favorites were the fish crows, because of my fondness for the corbies. Brown pelicans, great blue herons, great egrets, mockingbirds and blue jays were in abundance, as they were throughout the weekend. It was a treat to see yellow-shafted flickers (aka yellowhammers) rather than our usual red-shafted variety.


After the boat tour, our guide took us to a pitcher plant bog. The featured phyto-carnivore is called white-topped pitcher plant, and is quite pretty. We also saw several autumn wildflowers like goldenrod, narrow-leaf sunflowers and lantana. The lantana is extremely popular with butterflies, and throughout the weekend we could cont on seeing lots of monarchs, gulf fritillaries and admirals enjoying the nectar. We also met several golden-silk spiders, also called banana spiders because of their shape and color. They are orb weavers, but look very different from our Humboldtian pumpkin spiders. There weren't many birds there, but we did see a Carolina wren and a blue grosbeak (just not very blue right now).


In the afternoon we took another boat tour, this time up Blakely River. The sky had cleared somewhat, but the wind was colder. I was glad to have picked up my warm clothes on the way. Of the new birds, we saw a (not-so-)purple gallinule, a blue-winged teal, a juvenile bald eagle, other raptors and a couple of soaring flocks of white pelicans. As we were leaving the boat at the end of the tour, one of the guides said that she found a great rat snake sitting on someone's bag. we hustled back to see it. It was lovely, but cold & shy, so the guide covered it up for the evening.

There was a banquet this evening, and we thought that it was being held at the Five Rivers Center. So we didn't feel too hurried after the tour. But when we got to the building, it contained only a few stragglers from an earlier event, and they sure didn't look like birders. Reviewing our info sheet, we found that the banquet was at the senior center in Fairhope, about 20 minutes drive away. As I drove, Holly called information to find out where the senior center was. Thank goodness for cell phones and 411! Upon arrival we found that we had plenty of time before the feasting began. A nice calming glass of wine was in order. We had a wonderful chat with a couple of the people from the Chamber of Commerce who were tending the bar. Then we checked out the silent auction items and chatted with Fran.

While standing in line for the buffet, the couple in front of us turned to us, and the wife asked "you're not from around here, are you?". We 'fessed up, and asked how she could tell. The lack of big hair and natural coloring were her clues, though that really didn't seem to be much to separate us from most people there. Anyway, we had another nice chat until we escorted our laden plates to table. Later, while waiting in the dessert line, the husband handed me his email address, offering to send us some good birding info. I looked at the addy, and had to ask if he knew our friend Kristin. She had told us about a birding friend in Mobile named Chazz, and here he was! Chazz told us that he was leading a trip on Sunday, and we arranged it so we could attend and then send BirdFest some more money later.

The next day we were on our own. First we went into Fairhope for the Bird Expo, and had more lovely conversations with people at the booths. We picked up some bird souvenirs, watched the raptor demo and looked at snakes. On a side street we found some nifty sculptures by local artist Bruce Larsen. We got some sandwiches and beer, then drove south to Fort Morgan.


The drive seemed long, especially the horrible stretch between Foley and Gulf Shores. Nothing but shopping malls and stop lights. After coming onto the sand spit, things improved, thought there are a lot of enormous vacation homes along the beach. We suspected that most got rebuilt bigger (and better?) after Hurricanes Ivan and Katrina, because they all looked new. In one area, we stopped to watch a raptor: I think it was a broad-winged hawk. Then a merlin flew by, then another and another.


We arrived rather late at Fort Morgan, and the bird banding station was shutting down for the day. One nice fellow came over to us and showed us the yellow-bellied sapsucker that he was about to release. Then he gave us some pointers, and went back to his job. Wandering through the woods, we heard and caught glimpses of several elusive little birds. Our luck had been better near where we parked the car. We saw our first eastern phoebe, blue-gray gnatcatcher and gray catbird. We even had a great blue heron fly into the trees nearby, and he stayed around for a while. Later reports informed us that all kinds of birds had been seen and/or banded earlier in the day, including a kettle of hawks that soared in the thermals overhead.


We then explored Fort Morgan, which guarded Mobile Bay during the American Civil War and up to WWII. It's mostly empty now, but there are lots of nifty rooms and alcoves to explore. We thought about walking to the beach from there, but the wind was howling and the sun was getting low.


We had dinner back in Fairhope, at a place that claimed to have steamed seafood, but most of what we saw on the menu was deep fried. I didn't feel like ordering steamed clams at $1 a pop, so I had some mediocre gumbo. No wonder the place was so dismal on a Saturday night. The best thing about the place was the crawdad sculpture on the sidewalk.

On Sunday we were back in tour mode, gathering before dawn at Five Rivers for our date with Chazz. Our goal was the Blakely mud ponds, a Superfund site where nasty caustic mud & water from an old Alcoa plant is being remediated. The birds really like the secondary and tertiary ponds, where the pH has been lowered to more tolerable limits. Nonetheless, we were warned to not fall in the water unless we fancied a chemical burn. The site resembled the Arcata Marsh, though with more excavators and redder mud. Yes, that southern clay is red red red.



Our highlight was a black-bellied whistling duck mama with 15 fledging ducklings. Chazz said that's the first evidence that these whistling ducks breed on Mobile Bay (if not Alabama). Those ducklings were still to young to fly, so couldn't have come from somewhere else. In a thicket of trees we found all kinds of little songbirds. Unfortunately they move fast, so identifying or even seeing them was often difficult. I was pleased to recognize a ruby-crowned kinglet and got better at spotting my new friend the blue-gray gnatcatcher. In the reeds we saw a sora, which is a modest little marsh bird. This poor fellow had a broken wing dragging in the water. They don't fly much, so for now he was OK. However, our Sibley Guide says they don't winter on Mobile Bay.

Chazz offered to take us to another site that afternoon, so after the group tour we followed him through Mobile to get some lunch, then to his house to eat it. We settled into patio chairs to watch the birds, and Martha ("Mrs. Chazz") kindly brought us some hot chai to fend off the cold wind. After watching the cardinals, blue jays, chickadees and chickens for a while, we saddled back up and went to Muddy Creek.

There wasn't much creek, but there certainly was mud. Fortunately there is a boardwalk winding through the swamp. We continued to see many now-familiar birds like the phoebe and catbird. I caught enough of a look to know I was seeing a pileated woopecker before he took off again. Although they also live in the woods in Humboldt, I've never seen one before. I also saw a white-eyed vireo, which is aptly named for his strikingly pale eye. There were more golden-silk spiders and butterflies.


In the evening we went to McSharry's a pub in Fairhope. Fran's husband Tom plays fiddle in a wonderful Celtic band called Mithril, and usually plays in a session at McSharry's on Sunday night. Fran joins in with the bodhran. The waitress Barbie was wonderful, and I don't think it was simply due to the announcement of her engagement to the owner Ronan. She made sure we got the last piece of bread pudding to share. It's topped with a Jameson whiskey sauce which made it even more wonderful. Fran and Tom come over to visit a few times during a break, and we had a grand time. Sadly, the music was over all too soon, and it was time to go home.


On Monday we were on our own again. We finally had a warm and un-windy day. Our goal was Dauphin Island, but first we made a detour to see an alligator and then to Battleship Park. There's a boardwalk along a creek in Spanish Fort which a birding couple had told us about. The morning was cool, but we got to see one alligator sunning himself. At Battleship Park we didn't tour the USS Alabama, but were scanning the mudflats for more wading birds. There's a handy elevated platform, and we got to see our usual great blue herons and great egrets. But then there were white ibises, a tri-colored heron and a little blue heron. Sadly, no roseate spoonbills, which had been seen there a day or two before.


At the Airport Marsh on Dauphin Island we hoped to see a reddish egret, but were out of luck. We consoled ourselves by watching hermit crabs scoot about through the mud, and even what looked to be a hermit crab orgy. Maybe they were fighting, but I like to think that they were procreating. Earlier Pia had put a shell in her pocket, thinking that it was empty. When she went to pull it out to check, she found that the resident hermit crab had grabbed onto a sizeable bit of fabric. It took a fair bit of patient work to get him to let go.

At Shellmound Park we saw more yellow-bellied sapsuckers and lots of elusive little sputzies. While we sat watching the birds in a clearing of sorts, a woman showed us a yellow-billed cuckoo. Unlike all the nervous little birds, the cuckoo sat quiet and still for the longest time. Not easy to spot, but once you do, you get a good long look.

Our last spot on Dauphin Island was the Audubon refuge. The trail leads through a long-leaf pine forest to dunes and the beach. It seemed odd, then very naturally Gulf coast to see small palms and magnolias in the midst of a pine forest. The beach sand here is very white - all quartz sand, I believe. It's so very different from our gray sand & pebble beaches. I'd never thought much about the color of seawater in the Gulf, but hadn't expected the color of weak coffee. But it makes sense when I thought of all the water coming through the bayous and marshes, laden with all kinds of organic matter. It was warm, too, unlike our numbingly cold green water.


Near sunset we rejoined the car and set off to Gulfport, whence we were to fly out in the morning. Our return was fairly uneventful, thank goodness. Now we need to figure out where we're going for our next birding trip.


Monday, March 30, 2009

Chiricahua Mountains Birding Trip


The bird nerds: Kristin, Holly, Pia and Laura with Snowshed and Chiricahua Peaks behind.

At Tea a year or two ago, Pia told us about an amazing birding Mecca in Arizona. Along with Pia, Holly, Kristin and I are bird nerds. We daydreamed about going to the Chiricahua Mountains and seeing elegant trogons and other almost-only-in-Mexico birds. When we decided to delay our Japan trip until 2010, we made plans for a 2009 Chiricahua trip.

We left on Saturday, March 21. We traversed the north part of California from Eureka to Redding to Susanville, and then dropped down the backside of the Sierra Nevadas. Sprinklings of snow north of Lassen. Trader Joes stop somewhere near Reno. Gorgonzola crackers, beer and chocolate. What more could a road trip require?

Did I mention that the car and roof-rack coffin were stuffed?


On the first night out, I started reading out loud a hilarious birding book called "A Supremely Bad Idea" by Luke Dempsey. Come to find out, southeast AZ was the first birding trip mentioned, which spiced our appreciation of the book and the trip. Much of the book was read while driving on our return (Central Valley - *yawn*). Sadly, we didn't finish the book before the end of the trip, and reading to myself just isn't the same. Must start having story time after Tea.

"AK-47, meat, not entirely human". "Tomatoes. What's your stand on them?"

We were delayed for a few hours of our first morning in Bridgeport by snow. Even Kristin was awake by 6:00, and we were rarin' to go. Breakfast at the old stage stop, nice waitress, Mark Twain Room, fun in town with Cheddar Bunny. After we resumed the drive, we stopped at every scenic overlord (no sic) along the way, and tried to get blown away in the White Mountains looking for the bristlecone pine forest. Two and a half hours of dust storm north of Vegas. Our original plan of driving two days was extended to three.


A snow-covered Mono Lake landscape.

We did some drive-by birding, but it isn't easy to focus with binoculars while driving at 65 mph. We did get to enjoy a lot of great desert scenery. Pia kept us perky during the dust storm with some mystery games. "Romeo and Juliet are dead. The door and a window are open. A puddle of water is on the floor. What happened?"


Saguaro grove in northwest AZ. A stately saguaro across the road led to a gila woodpecker sighting.

Monday: Hoover Dam (Homeland Security on the alert for terrorists; nice Art Deco), drive, saguaros, drive, vermillion flycatchers, "a man is found dead, holding a stick, on a mountaintop", drive, Kristin misses seeing the roadrunner (*beep-beep!*), Tucson Audubon Society store, drive, more mysteries, arrival in Portal after dark, with spaghetti dinner cooked on the deck outside our room.


I have no idea why the AAA map calls the Chiricahuas the "Pendregosa" Mountains. Two names (Apache vs. Spanish) for one range, perhaps?


On Tuesday morning we arose early in the town of Portal, and were birding by 7:15. There were all kinds of birds in town, and we took our sweet time to track them down and enjoy watching them. Cactus wren, cardinal, curve-billed thrasher, pyrrholoxia ("pyros"), Gambel's quail, hooded and Scott's oriole. The Portal Store, Cafe & Lodge has a mass of birdfeeders, as do a few homes in town. Broad-tailed hummingbird, pine siskin, black-throated hummingbird, lesser goldfinch, magnificent hummingbird ("El Magnifico"), more siskins. One could beef up a life list without leaving town.

We hadn't gotten far down Rock House Road before a local came by and chatted us up. He turned out to be Dave Jasper, a bird guide we had read about in our Southeast Arizona birding books. Just outside town he has a piece of property that is bird and birder friendly. Anyway, Dave was waiting for a client who wound up not showing. He asked us if he could do some birding with us.

Graciously we assented, and we strolled on to a huge sycamore that was riotous with birds. Dave was pointing and firing off bird names faster than we could focus our binocs. "Bridled titmice. 'Cutest little birds', everyone says." Lucy's warbler *zoom*. Never saw it. Lincoln's sparrow, house wren, Screech owl in a tree-hole nest. We even pointed out a few that he thought couldn't possibly be there, but sure enough were: Yellow warbler, orange-crowned warbler, common yellowthroat. "I've got to make some calls!" Dave said, "Too bad everyone is out of town right now". That made us feel better, and seemed to raise us in his estimation.


Left: Dave tries to find a northern pygmy owl on the South fork of Cave Creek. Honest, he saw one there just a few minutes ago. Right: Cactus wren nest in a beavertail (aka prickly pear) cactus.

We wound up coming across Dave several times during our stay, and we jested among ourselves that we had our own personal stalker. But we didn't mind having a stalker who could help us find birds.


Views into Cave Creek Canyon from the turnoff to Paradise (top) and the Big Thicket (bottom).

Dave's property, the Big Thicket, is outside of Portal about a mile in the dry direction. Scrubby something-or-others dominated the landscape. Good cover for the birdies. I certainly hope the scrubbies leaf out eventually.

Left: Bird feeders with javelinas/peccaries cleaning up at Dave Jasper's Big Thicket. Right: A honeybee, mellow though probably Africanized, at Dave's place.

Green-tailed towhee, black-throated sparrow, scrub jay, more cardinals, pyros, quail etc. Is that a javelina?! Damn those Crissal's thrashers.

The Chiricahuas are called a "sky island": a "forested ... mountain range with moist habitats, surrounded by a 'sea' of arid lands" (Tucson Audubon Society's Finding Birds in Southeast Arizona, Seventh edition). The variety of habitats and wildlife there is wonderful.


The Sunny Flat Campground was the only one of three in the lower part of the canyon that was open when we were there. The others are sure to be open in April, when the canyon teems with more birders than birds. Sunny Flat was full, which was no grief to us, considering everyone there was in an RV of some sort. Dread of nighttime generator noise. Each site had a built-in bird feeder, and a couple of campers had hummingbird feeders out. Folks were friendly, and the view was great.



We camped higher up Cave Creek, at Herb Martyr Campground. A small dam was built here in 1935, and the unfortunately named Mr. Martyr was a worker who was killed during construction.


Left: We're not in Humboldt anymore: a pine-oak woodland with the occasional yucca. Right: A parasitic flower, Conopholis mexicana, growing on the roots of a Mexican oak


Left: (Greater?) Short-horned lizard. Right: Striped plateau lizard.

Did I mention that Portal exists solely for the sake of birders? Everyone living there is a birder or in a business that caters to birders. Any visitor without binoculars is suspected of being a drug smuggler or illegal immigrant.

Each day we did a lot of driving up and down the canyon, going to different birding spots and grabbing a sixer of beer for the evening at the Portal Store. Bendire's thrasher and Chihuahuan raven near Highway 80.

Most of our second day was spent strolling along South Fork Cave Creek Road. "Some birders actually walk the entire 1.3 miles!" we paraphrased from one of our bird guides. Kristin saw an Arizona woodpecker, but the rest of us missed out. A canyon wren called and bobbed. Northern pygmy owls taunted us with their calls. Dave stroked trees : / White-breasted nuthatch, Mexican brown creeper, hermit thrush, yellow-eyed junco, red-naped sapsucker, lots of acorn woodpeckers, Apache fox squirrel.

Below: Several views in Cave Creek Canyon.



We never did find an elegant trogon, the prize bird of the Chiricahuas. It is reported to keep quiet and still for long periods of time, and can thus be difficult to spot. Dave told us that there were only three juvenile males in the area at that time, so we knew that our chances were slim.


Left: Trogon territory: Sasquatch is easier to find. Right: Mexican jays, were also much easier to spot. This is one who was cooperatively nesting in a family unit, and pretty mellow about us watching.

We drove up to Paradise that afternoon, and visited the George Walker House, which is birder-friendly. We talked for quite a while with Jackie, the owner, and her dog Tundra, and watched the birds at the feeders. Sadly, the juniper titmice were in hiding. Jackie told us about a blue mockingbird sighting in Douglas, just on this side of the US-Mexico border. Only the sixth reported sighting in the US. Oh, for an extra day of birding!


On our last day we drove on Pinery Canyon Road, over the summit to the west side of the mountains. A road which Flatlanders think is bowel-loosening. They should drive Hwy 36 during timber harvest. The wind was howling so much that most birds, like the Mexican chickadees, were hunkered down. We did get good looks at a zone-tailed hawk, a prairie falcon and the biggest American kestrel we'd ever seen. The Chiricahua National Monument (last stronghold of Cochese) wanted $5/person to get in, so we turned around and came home. Someday we'll return when we have time to get our money's worth.

Sadly, we had to return home after only three days of birding. Before leaving Portal, we made sure to check the hummingbird feeders at the cafe one more time, and visit the post office. We hope to return before too many trogons have bred, and have plans to buy a cabin and hide out there.

Another visit to the Audubon society for shwag. Tucson: Why close 5 consecutive exits in the middle of town at the same time??? Kristin sees a roadrunner! Pia racked her brains for more mysteries. ...Oh, it's just another turkey vulture. Hold your noses, it's Kettleman City! Lots of story time. "A man eats albatross at a restaurant, then kills himself". Finally home before the bars close. *sigh*


If you have trouble viewing the slideshow, or want to look at larger versions, go to my Picasa album. There you can follow more adventures of Cheddar Bunny and the Bird Nerds.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Aleutian Cackling Goose Fly-off

The population of Aleutian cackling geese have exploded over the past many years, and our area has become a favorite stopping place for them during spring migration. They fatten up on tender young pasture grasses, which annoys cattle ranchers. But there is some sort of understanding now, which most likely includes compensation for the pasturage lost. A favored sleeping ground is the Humboldt Bay Wildlife Refuge south of Eureka. On one weekend in March, the gates to the refuge are opened at 6AM so that the public can view the impressive morning fly-off more or less up-close.

A mob of us, growing in size much more slowly than the geese, assembled at Holly and Harvey's at 5:15, and headed out at half-past. By the time we arrived at the refuge, the main parking lot was nearly full, and the overflow are promised to follow soon after.

This is the second year that I have gone, and what a difference in weather! Last year was cloudy and threatening rain. This year we had mostly clear skies and a bit of frost. I think that last year we were also operating on DST, so arrived with plenty of dark to spare. This time, the sky rapidly grew lighter as we walked along the path to prime viewing locations.


In no strict order: Pia, Holly, Kristin, John and Michael. Joe's wee green wellies can be seen behind Michael.



















There were others in our crew that morning: Harvey, Tony, Eileen and Ken. Sadly, there were some infirmities which kept them from tramping all the way out into the squishy wetlands. But they reported being able to see the show well enough.

As the light grew, there were a few small "warm up" flights that can lull the uninitiated into a sense of disappointment. I know I was feeling let down last year, until the Big Wave arose.


The following videos were taken on my point-and-shoot digital camera, hence the poor image quality. The first video shows the biggest wave of geese.


More of the big wave, with "potty talk" from the crew.


I was following some tundra swans when a mob of geese took off. Sadly, the "amazing sound" I mention wasn't well captured. Just as the geese take off, their wings make a sound that, en masse, sounds like a jet engine.


In this week's North Coast Journal, Holly had a haiku published. This seems to be a good spot to put it so I can remember:

Pause

Eleven swans
following geese northward
white on gray skies


Aleutian geese, seen through Kristin's spotting scope. This is a trick that another birding friend and wildlife artist, Gary Bloomfield, told us about at last year's fly-off.








In the middle ground is a crowd of Aleutian geese, along with godwits, willets, shovelers, pintails and other water birds.









The water was like glass. I was regretting not taking Karin up on her offer of a digital SLR for my birthday.
Some day I will go out there for some plein air painting. Honest.



The Bird Nerds: Kristin, Pia, Laura and Holly. On our way back for our post-fly-off brunch.