Month: May 2019

Well, sort of. Yesterday I was contacted by Diana Doyle, my top Montezuma Quail mole, who tipped me off to a sighting at Coronado National Memorial. I thank you, Diana! I had been visiting there regularly back in March looking for one squatting along the road on the way in to the memorial. Diana said to look near the visitor center and picnic area. I crept slowly along the road at 6 am this morning, swung by the visitor center, and parked in the picnic area. As soon as I got out, I heard the descending “jet fighter” call of Montezuma Quail (385). Heard-only counts. Not exactly what I wanted with this bird, but I’m sure I’ll see one before the year is out. As I walked around the picnic area I heard a second, a third, and probably a fourth bird calling just beyond the cleared area. I walked in a little ways but they only called farther away. I’ve never heard so many in one place so this area deserves repeated visits.

After yesterday’s San Pedro House walk, I met Dieter, our resident birding elder statesman, at Escapule Wash to show him the tyrannulet nest since he hasn’t seen this bird this year and now has trouble hearing their high thin calls. We saw the nest but no bird so we went up Escapule Wash to follow up on a recent report of Barn Owl roosting in the eroded cavities in the bank of the wash. Along the way we got talking about Big Years and, of course, Sandy Komito, the only two-time ABA-area champ whose reign lasted from 1987 to 2013. I think that’s 25 years, longer than anyone ever has or ever will reign. Deiter and Alicia used to hang out with Sandy when he visited Sierra Vista back in the day. Deiter said he was eager to acquire Sandy’s book “I Came, I Saw, I Counted” but it was out of print. Soon a package arrived in Deiter’s mailbox – a new copy of the book with Sandy’s autograph, sent by the author himself. Like a baseball fan getting an autographed baseball from Babe Ruth.

Once I get a bird under my skin I have to keep after it. Today, after getting the quail, I went over to Whitewater Draw to search for Barn Owl. Two to three were being seen regularly since late April with five recorded just yesterday. I searched the owl roost area multiple times and all around the dike but could only come up with a family of Great Horned Owls. They nested in the barn by the parking lot where there was still one adult and one chick:

The other adult and 2 chicks were in the owl roost trees. I couldn’t help but wonder if they had just moved in there displacing the Barn Owls. I missed them by one day.

Reading my post from yesterday and taking pity on my plight, one Dave Wood, a reliable informant, gave me the latest lowdown on Virginia’s Warbler. I have no doubt Dave shortened his name from Woodward lest anyone think we are blood relatives. Don’t worry Dave, we have no common ancestors. The great bird finder that he is, he told me he found three Virginia’s Warblers in Sawmill Springs trail in Carr Canyon. Back up Carr Canyon I went, this time in my car, not a moving van. Sure enough, by the time I got half way up the trail I heard a Virginia’s Warbler (384)singing. Luckily, there was a small wash that led up to the area it was in. I crept up close, peeked around the bushes, and there it was, facing into the morning sun, singing and preening, served up by Dave remotely. Nemesis no more. Another was singing nearby and two more were up at the spring.

This blurry picture shows the strong eye ring, yellow breast, and yellow undertail coverts, leaving no doubt as to its identity. Spencer Baird named it for the wife of Dr. William Anderson, a US Army surgeon, who discovered it in New Mexico in 1858.

The spring attracted a parade of warblers, thrushes, tanagers, and grosbeaks. Here’s one of my favorites:

So I one-upped you, Dave, with 4 Virginia’s to your 3 but you served it up nicely, so let’s call it even.

Today I hiked up Miller Canyon with the goal of finding Virginia’s Warbler, a real nemesis for me. I just can’t get on this bird. I found a good mixed flock in an area where I have seen one before but that’s the closest I came. The search for that one will continue. By and by I heard a familiar call – the high thin “sleeeet” of Cordilleran Flycatcher (382).

This is the last Empidonax I need for the West; there is a good chance I can get all 11 species possible in North America.

As I expected, I heard a pack of baying dogs coming up the canyon – good news. Not because I like dogs – I don’t, in fact, and don’t mention this to dog lovers, I have no use for them at all. Especially in a quiet federally designated wilderness area. Instead, I knew it meant Tom Beatty would be along with all the latest intel on a very special bird in this canyon. He went up the trail in a hurry, rifle in hand, with hardly a “good morning.” On the way back down, he had more time. He gave me specific directions, unsolicited, and off I went. I had been putting off chasing this one, waiting for news on their exact location. Since they are permanent residents here, there was no hurry. I walked right past them the first time, doubled back, and there they were, down in the maple trees, Spotted Owl (383):

I like how they are faced the other way, blocked by leaves and mystique, the way an owl should be. Here’s the morning’s eBird list:
https://ebird.org/view/checklist/S55931935

Last evening, as I came back from my mail box, my neighbor was out watering her flowers. She has the nicest yard on the block. We commented on the music we could clearly hear and she said it was coming from Veteran’s Park, one air mile away. Later I pulled up a chair outside and enjoyed some rock ‘n roll and red wine. The yard was full of bats but at 7:24 pm, 20 minutes after sunset, along came something bigger but still bat-like, something I’ve been keeping an eye out for here: Lesser Nighthawk (380). That saves me a trip to the Walmart parking lot or elsewhere in town. The second year bird from the apartment.

To keep the nightjar train rolling, tonight I went up lower Carr Canyon. First stop was at the lower picnic area to check on the Elf Owl nest I found on March 27. I heard a Whiskered Screech-Owl call once, then the Elf Owl called and popped out of his tree cavity. So all is well there. I drove up just past the Carr House and I immediately heard my target: Mexican Whip-poor-will (381) calling up on the hillside. That’s that.

Today I checked my list and checked it twice. What I found wasn’t nice. My current itinerary will leave me 20 species short of 500. Only one solution comes to mind – Monterey! I sent off a check to Debi Shearwater for two pelagic trips on Monterey Bay in September. I was thinking of doing this anyway just for the opportunity to bird with Debi one last time. Did you hear this? She is retiring, this is her last year, no more Shearwater Journeys. A giant in the field of pelagic birding is calling it a career. The second trip will be on her birthday. How will we celebrate that? Chum the birthday cake? Buy your tickets now, people, it’s the end of an era.

Last day of the festival! Today I took my crew up Carr Canyon. The drive is bad enough in a passenger car – try doing it with a 14 passenger van. Suddenly the cliff is steeper, the road is narrower, the hairpins are tighter. Throw in a sunny Saturday with wedding traffic going up as you come down and you have a glimpse into the life of a bird guide. If it looks easy then the guide is an old pro.

No sooner did we get out of the car when we witnessed the first Band-tailed Pigeons (379) of the festival, 3 of them, flying high overhead. This ain’t workin’ – that’s the way you do it. In the Reef Townsite Campground we found an abundance of Buff-breasted Flycatchers and a Grace’s Warbler walking around on the ground practically at our feet, and Greater Pewee sang “Jose-Maria!”. Down the road we caught a Dusky-capped Flycatcher in the act of building a nest inside a tree cavity. Our trip down was interrupted by a band of coati crossing the road. Once again I returned the van with one minute left on the clock. Everybody gets their money’s worth on my trips. Now that my working days are behind me, it’s time to put a hit on the list of 18 species I have to get before I leave for the East in three weeks.

This week I am doing something I haven’t done in over 2 years – and sort of forgot how to do – get up and go to work! But what a job – bird guide for the Southwest Wings Bird Festival. Yesterday I took my group to the San Pedro House. I put a good southeast Arizona specialty in the scope – Botteri’s Sparrow to the group’s delight and, simultaneously, added it to my Big Year (377). Then a funny thing happened. If my bosses find out about this I’ll probably get fired. I’m supposed to have 10 clients on these trips. A couple of times while walking the trail I took a census and came up with eleven. Since I really can’t count over ten any way I dismissed it as some kind of astronomic anomaly. Sure enough, at lunch time, a woman came up to me and said, in hushed tones,: “I think I’m in the wrong group!” She was! The right group was the Wednesday morning San Pedro House bird walk. Don’t worry, she didn’t eat our lunch. The day’s highlight was the Northern Beardless-Tyrannulet nest, with a Vermilion Flycatcher nest nearby.

Today I ran my group over to Patagonia with stops at the Nature Conservancy’s Patagonia-Sonoita Creek Preserve, Paton’s House, Patagonia Rest Stop, (Thick-billed Kingbird (378) ) and Patagonia Lake State Park. A full-blown 6:00 am to 4:00 pm day. I ran the group into the ground. “Slave driver”, “chops buster”, and worse slurs were slung by the end of the day.

Exhausted and abused, when I got back I had a talk with the Boss. “I want a 401K, health insurance, and profit sharing!”, I demanded. His answer? “Rob, this is a non-profit.” I’m just glad I didn’t have an owl prowl tonight. This is harder than it looks. Already I am looking forward to retirement again.