robsbigyear2019.com

(I sent this out 2 days ago but now I don’t see it!)

It’s a secret. I can’t tell you too much. I can tell you what and when but not who and where. You already know why. I’ve already said too much. It’s that classified. This is a big one. Last summer a birder in Sierra Vista, I’ll call him … ummmmm…. “John”, offered to take me and one other person to see this bird but I was away. They saw it and so now I had to see it. Last week I asked John if his offer was still good. It was.

Tuesday morning we set out for a long drive. On the way up a long dirt road I called out what I thought was a turtle in the road. Close – it was a reptile, the baddest one around, Gila Monster.

On up the road we continued, one with some bad sections. This is the kind of road that should only be driven with a rental car. We came upon a stone cairn John built last summer. “Park here,” he ordered. We got out and started exploring the area. Reluctantly I played some tape play back. A bird responded right away. We headed toward it and then it stopped calling. I vocalized and the bird answered. I got close enough to see small birds, mostly Verdins and Black-tailed Gnatcatchers, mobbing something but I couldn’t see the target. We tried going up the wash and then back down. We heard the bird again and gave chase but once again it was not in the tree it was calling from. Ready to try a different site, we stopped when we heard the bird call again. John tooted and it responded. A short chase and he found the bird! Just as I looked at it, a gnatcatcher that was mobbing it chased it away. John called and the bird answered, always moving a little farther. Finally I caught up with it, and was fortunate enough to get a good photograph of Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl (532) (ABA 646).

The photograph shows the brown breast streaking, the streaked, not spotted, crown, and other photographs show the rufous banded tail, eliminating Northern Pygmy-Owl. There are only two places in North America to see this species: far south-central Arizona and the southern tip of Texas. But in Texas you can get a tour to see them on King Ranch served up like spare ribs. Here you have to dig them out by hand. We used some tape playback but mostly our own owl vocalizations. Arizona hosts the federally endangered cactorum, or “Cactus” subspecies, named for its affinity with saguaro cactus. I didn’t count on seeing this bird this year so it’s a big plus for the list.

Two more mammals were added to the Big Year mammal list, Antelope Jackrabbit, found only in south-central Arizona within the United States, and Harris’s Antelope Squirrel. Oh, and we saw a yellow-shafted flicker that, out here, I think I am safe to call Gilded without giving it a DNA test. Saturday I fly to LA for a shot at Island Scrub-Jay.

Wouldn’t that make a great song title? Or maybe it’s “Still Lookin'”. “I’m lookin’ high, I’m lookin’ low/lookin’ every place that I go. Just can’t find what I’m lookin’ for/can’t be bought, not in any store….” Is it about birding? Mate selection? Keep it cryptic.

A few nights ago I went for a drive under a high and nearly full moon hoping to intersect with a Barn Owl. The odds are pretty low. I’ll have to find one roosting somewhere. Meanwhile, I’m getting ready for some new trips. The pace quickens as we reach the end of the year. Next week I’m off to Santa Cruz Island for a visit with Island Scrub-Jay. Two weeks later it’s a Texas redux in Harlingen at the Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival to look for some of the targets I missed in April. December takes me back to the West Coast for a few days in San Diego and probably Salton Sea. From there I really should go to New Hampshire to pick up ten to twelve easy-to-not-so-hard winter birds. I may finish the year with a grand finale atop Sandia Crest.

My mail man is my best friend these days. From the stacks of mail he brings me I shall now – live! – pull an envelope out of the pile purely at random. I won’t first feel to see if it is five pages or if there is a photograph inside. No looking at the return address or the country of origin of the stamp. I will simply reach in and pull one out. Without prejudice. Here we go. I got one. I’m opening it up. Unbelievable! By sheer coincidence, I am written to by an admiring fan from overseas who is well known in her country. “Modela” writes me from Buenos Aires, Argentina. She doesn’t tango, she says, but instead is – not surprisingly – the newest sensation in all the fashion magazines down there. Not coincidentally, she goes by the nickname “Avita”, little bird. She is beginning to travel globally now and would like to connect with me in New York for her next big shoot. Included in her envelope – and you knew this was coming – is her head shot, autographed on the back just for me:

Thank you, Avita, I am as flattered as you are beautiful. I should like to take you by the wing and show you my country. Together we could soar to new heights.

Last January 23, I reported Gilded Flicker as number 143 for the year. But after thinking it over, I realized I did not get a god enough look at it to eliminate the possibility of a hybrid with Northern Flicker. I need to get a good Gilded somewhere in or around Tucson.

I also need Barn Owl. I discovered that for two weeks in a row the field trip at Canoa Ranch Conservation Park in or near Green Valley had seen Barn Owl. They must know where one roosts. So I teamed up with my good birding buddy Joy in Green Valley to go on the Saturday field trip and then go search for the flicker.

On my way over to Green Valley I stopped in at Santa Rita Lodge in Madera Canyon to watch the feeders for awhile. Not much was happening until a certain bird caught my eye, one I had been looking for but had never seen, that I could think of:

Both birds are the same species but look how different they appear. The one on the right is the black-backed or Texas subspecies, psaltria, rarely seen around here. It’s hard to find birders interested in subspecies but we should be, it’s another layer of ID that takes you that much deeper. I like how the common green-backed subspecies just happens to be on the same feeder at the right time for comparison.

So Friday afternoon we scoped out the Canoa Ranch to see if we could find our own Barn Owl. Instead we fortuitously ran into Brian Nicholas, who leads the weekly walk here, who told us the owl wasn’t there yesterday and that it was unlikely they would search for it tomorrow, but he knew of another one and gave us directions. Saturday those directions took us to a certain train trestle where we looked up but saw no owl. The train action was good though, one west-bound freight and one east-bound Amtrak. From there we went up to Saguaro National Park – East for the flicker.

Our system was to stop at all the pullouts and scan the saguaros. At the first stop we found a distant flicker perched atop a cactus. It looked good. “Get your scope,” I directed Joy. Out came this clankety old device manufactured some time around the fall of the Roman Empire. “Where’s the zoom?”, I urgently pleaded. “There is no zoom”, came the somber reply. No zoom?!?!?! No zoom. Just because I could identify this bird with a zoom doesn’t mean I was disturbed. No, that’s ok, there are bound to be other Gilded Flickers much closer.

We continued on, stopping and scanning, stopping and scanning, for the whole length of the park drive. We heard some flickers, saw a few more, but nothing close enough to allow me to be certain. I didn’t come all this way to say: “close enough.” I missed Gilded Flicker all for the love of my spotting scope, you know, the one with the 60X zoom, that I forgot! I still have time. We are now early in the fourth quarter so there is plenty of time. Steady, my boy. I’ll just have to go back, bring my scope, and find Gilded Flicker.

But a big find. Yesterday, after getting the vireo, I just needed to chase Clay-colored Sparrow. I spent the morning at the grasslands of Las Cienegas National Conservation Area in Sonoita where many sparrows winter and pass through in migration. I found sparrows but they typically disperse once you find a flock and chasing them is futile, they only continue to flee farther away. Eventually I found a Dickcissel, a rare migrant here:

While I was in the area, I might as well see if any Burrowing Owls were present at the prairie dog colonies. There they were, in fact I found 5, including this one, running around and flying about too:

With my morning complete and not much else to chase I made my way back, stopping to look at each sparrow before it flew. Finally one caught my eye. Could it be? Better get lots of pictures.

Notice the very contrasting facial marks, the buffy/brown ear coverts outlined by a dark line, the white malar, and the pale central crown stripe. Too contrasty to be Brewer’s Sparrow. The next picture shows well the pale lores, distinguishing it from Chipping Sparrow:

It all adds up to Clay-colored Sparrow (531). I’m working myself out of a job. Barn Owl is about the only one I can chase until November so I’m hoping for some fall vagrants to show up. The rare bird alert could light up any day.

Probably every birder has a hex bird, it’s not quite as bad as a nemesis, but it’s one that you have trouble finding and that everyone else sees all the time. Today I had to decide whether to go up the canyons for Cassin’s Vireo, the hex bird, or to San Pedro House for Clay-colored Sparrow. Since the sparrow was reported most recently at San Pedro House, I went there. On the trail along Garden Wash I heard a vireo singing but I’ve heard a lot of vireos singing this year and they’re all Plumbeouses. But I have to check. I found it in the mesquite, got a good look, and saw not just a tinge of yellow on the flanks but a lot of yellow so that there was no ambiguity: Cassin’s Vireo (530)! Two of them! The hex is gone and now I’ll probably see them every day.

That leaves Clay-colored Sparrow as the most chaseable bird around here. I still need goshawk and Barn Owl but those will take more luck than effort. October turns out to be a slow month in the Big Year calendar. If you look at Sandy Komito’s books there is only a page or two for October. It mostly involves chasing out-of-state rarities. I may do some of that but I just booked a new trip that involves sort of a rarity and that requires going out to sea but it’s for a passerine. Give up? Island Scrub-Jay. I keep saying I’ll chase it when I’m in that area but I never am and this is a good time to go get it. It has a certain allure – the only island endemic in the US, the smallest range of any US bird, it’s big and colorful. And you take a boat out to sea to see it. That’s coming up in October.

Here’s the answer to the last Puzzler with the headless bird in the photo quiz, same bird, different pose:

Time to update the list:

I was ok with a day off today. I was still rocking and rolling hours after getting off the boat yesterday. The storm let up by noon today so I went out. In the parking lot, before I got to my car, I heard an unfamiliar sound. Frogs? It just rained. No, it’s up high, but nothing’s there. Gulls? Way up, thousands of feet, were Vees heading south, making that sound. Geese, not Canada Geese, but Brant (529). Hundreds of birds in several flocks, going into the clouds, then coming out, then back in. These are among the first birds to pass through Washington on eBird. Good, a new one without trying.

I went down to the harbor to try to photograph gulls but all I could come up with is this Brandt’s Cormorant:

Then I ate lunch at the Fish Shack. I’ve never seen so many flies. It was like walking into a fly terrarium or fly aviary, what do they call a place where they keep live flies? Mysteriously, the flies don’t annoy the customers, they don’t land on your food. They just fly. Management has obviously trained these insects to leave the patrons alone. I don’t know how it’s done.

Finally I added this one to the Big Year mammal list, getting into the feral cats’ food:

Having exhausted the resources here, tomorrow is a travel day back to Arizona. Washington was very good to me, with 27 new year species (I expected to get 15) and 8 lifers – that’s a good haul. I’m glad I came up here and I hope to come back some day.

Fantastic! I can’t believe it! I can’t believe my good luck! Whenever you board a boat and head out to sea, you dream of seeing something beyond your wish list. The impossible can become possible. Today that came true for me. Three albatrosses, 10 new birds for the Big Year, and 5 lifers. Wow!

We were all aboard by 6:15 and got underway by 6:30, in the dark. We hit scattered patches of drizzle on the way out but it was not windy or cold. Eventually it cleared up. Not too far out we found Cassin’s Auklet (519). A little farther was a distant South Polar Skua (520) (ABA 640) (World 2834). On the way back we saw one closer and then a third one closer still so you could see the silver patches in the wings, a big, heavy, hulking bird, not to be confused with anything else and a long-awaited find for me.

Next up was Forked-tailed Storm-Petrel (521), present in Monterey but not this year. Eventually we saw many, some close to the boat. Buller’s Shearwater (522) came right by the boat, showing all the field marks, especially the big “M” on its back. We saw many today. How many Northern Fulmars (523) did we see? Over 100, all but two were dark morph, like this one:

Notice the tube nose for excreting salt. When the boat stops to look at something, you know it’s something good. Get your camera ready. Scripps’s Murrelet (524) (ABA 641) (World 2835) is worth stopping for. Even I got a photograph:

We saw another pair on the way back. They don’t record this species on every trip. I missed Parasitic Jaeger in Monterey but saw 2-3 here (525). Among the many Sooty Shearwaters, we pulled out a few Short-tailed Shearwaters (526) (ABA 642) (World 2836).

Black-footed Albatross is plentiful here, more so than in Monterey. So that’s one. By and by along came a bird I hoped we might see but could not expect: Laysan Albatross (527) (ABA 643) (World 2837). What a beauty! If we saw no more I would have been 100% satisfied. Those of you who belong to the American Bird Conservancy read in the most recent newsletter an article about a young Fish and Wildlife biologist who, back in the 1950’s, banded a certain Laysan Albatross on Midway Island. There is even a picture of him. Who is it? Chan Robbins! The bird in question is now at least 68 years old and still laying eggs on Midway. And those of you who do not belong to ABC should. That’s two albatrosses. Plenty for one day for any birder.

At 40 miles off-shore, the captain put the boat in park and shut off the motor. Then it happened. I’ll let Bill Tweit, lead spotter, narrate. “Hey, what’s this coming in! Look at the bill, get on the bill!!! (He is not using his binoculars, he’s too busy chumming.) LOOK AT THE BILL!!! Holy (expletive deleted)!!!! S-H-O-R-T – T-A-I-L-E-D A-L-B-A -T-R-OOOOOS!!!!!” (528) (ABA 644) (World 2838). It came in close, flew by us, turned, and passed again. This was not a fleeting or distant look, it was right on top of us! I don’t care if my pictures are blurry, I have pictures of Short-tailed Albatross:

Notice the dark color like a Black-footed Albatross but it has a honking pink bill! You can’t miss the bill! The seven foot + wingspan in not obvious in the picture. This species is rare both in terms of frequency of sightings (Bill Tweit has seen 6 in the last 30 years; they go years without seeing it out here) but also in terms of total population. Bill described its brush with extinction. First, its numbers were decimated by the millinery trade. Then, the volcanic island it nests on in Japan erupted, killing all adults and leaving 20 juveniles. It now numbers some 2000 birds. So yes, this bird came all the way from Japan and back from the brink of extinction.

Cetaceans were way fewer than in Monterey, attesting to that bay’s rich waters. For pinnipeds, we saw Stellar’s Sea Lions on buoys near the harbor and Northern Fur Seals way off shore.

So that’s today. Surely the albatross will go down as the Bird of the Year for my Big Year. I stepped off the boat with the refund in hand from tomorrow’s cancelled trip, one I don’t think I needed to take after all.

Yesterday I forgot to mention one of the most important things on the whole trip. While hiking the trails of the Hoh Rain Forest. couldn’t resist. I reached down, picked up a stick, and knocked it on a large tree. Researchers claim that this is the best way to elicit a response from a Bigfoot. It didn’t work, but I can now say I have searched for Bigfoot – can you? I am now a Bigfoot researcher!

Today I birded around Ocean Shores, which is just across the mouth of Grays Harbor from here but you have to drive all the way around the harbor to get there. I first went to Point Brown Jetty to search for Surfbird. I saw two birds that looked right but they were too distant to be sure. The tide was dropping and if it got lower I could walk farther out along the jetty. So I went elsewhere for a while and found White-winged Scoters (515) in flocks over the water, a Red-throated Loon (516), and a Western Grebe (517). By now the tide was lower and I could walk a little farther out to look at these shorebirds on the jetty. Careful scrutiny convinced me that there were two Surfbirds (518) on the jetty. Except for yesterday, mostly a travel day, I get four new birds for the list every day in Washington. Tomorrow, the pelagic, I predict Five new ones.

I was sorry to leave Port Angeles this morning. Yesterday the skies cleared, affording great views of Canada across the strait. How often do you get to see Canada, let alone visit? A ferry crosses the strait from Port Angeles 3 times a day; maybe my next visit.

Northwestern Crow has been heavily genetically swamped by American Crow throughout the Puget Sound. I think it is safe to count them in Port Angeles but I knew I better make sure or I would never hear the end of it. Today I went to La Push, a small fishing village on the Quileute Indian Reservation on the coast. Evidence of the grinding poverty of reservation life was visible throughout the town. I easily found some crows at a dumpster that sounded totally different from American Crow so I am confident I have legitimately counted this species where you are safe to count them.

Next stop was the Hoh Rain Forest in Olympic National Park. I spent 3 hours walking the trails among towering trees dripping with moss but I don’t think I found the one target here – Varied Thrush. I’m 90% certain I heard one “sing” three times but it was faint and distant. Later I heard one making its “chup” calls but there are robins in here and I am not well versed with this species. I’ll listen to Xenocanto but I’m afraid I will have to throw this one back. Even Victor Emanuel’s annual Washington tour usually does not record this species and they know what they’re doing. I did see a group of 4-6 Canada Jays and I heard numerous Pacific Wrens, one even teed up and sang. I saw a second one and this is the best I could do for a picture of this secretive species:

I made a quick pass through the Lake Quinault area but it was late by then so I didn’t stay. I am now perched on the top floor of the luxurious Chateau Westport. It’s a little bit dated but I doubt anything new has been built in this town in 50 years.

Remember when I advised to always book two pelagic trips? Here is why – I just got an email from Westport Seabirds informing me that Sunday’s trip is cancelled for bad weather. That’s ok, since I am booked for the Saturday trip and that is a go. I probably wouldn’t have picked up much new on the second trip, it was just an insurance policy so it’s not damaging to the Big Year. So now I will have two free birding days here, tomorrow and Sunday. High on the list is Surfbird, one I missed in Monterey but should be doable here.

Today’s weather: overcast, drizzle, scattered showers, 50’s. I’d love to be an amphibian in Washington. They all must be happy as pie. I’d hate to be in the sunglasses business, you’d go broke in a week. But raincoats and umbrellas wouldn’t sell any better. Washingtonians don’t use them. They walk around like nothing is happening. Some say they have evolved an oil on their hair and skin that allows the water to bead right off them.

Today I HAD to get Sooty Grouse. As you will recall, back in Colorado, my good nephew Ryan and his sister and his girlfriend saw -and photographed well – a Dusky Grouse. I was beside myself. Recently, his mother – my little sister, Christine – and her beau visited Olympic National Park and saw a Sooty Grouse. Today I went up the mountain in the park to search for the rare and elusive one. After I passed through the three tunnels, I was thinking to myself how lucky you must be to see a Sooty Grouse. Just then there was a large lump on the side of the road. I stopped, put up my binoculars, and there it was – Sooty Grouse! (511) (ABA 639) (World 2833).

As you can see, he is a real beauty. Take that, Buster! With nothing else to chase up there, I turned around and headed for the coast.

I worked my way down to the John Wayne Marina in Sequim to search for what I thought would be an easy Mew Gull. I put the scope on a gull roost and there were an even dozen Mew Gulls (512). Notice the small, unmarked bill and dark eye.

Seconds after taking this picture, two kayakers landed, dispersing the gulls across the bay.

I needed one more bird here. For some reason, they find Red-breasted Sapsucker here. I soon found out why. As I walked around the perimeter of the parking lot, I found that all the planted maples between the parking lot and the marina had sapsucker wells, lots of them. Most were at eye level, so if there was a sapsucker here, it would be easy to see. I walked to the end of the north parking lot, carefully searching all the trees, came back the other way, and then stopped, I don’t know why, I didn’t hear anything. I turned, and there it was – Red-breasted Sapsucker (513), very quietly tapping on the tree:

Like many of the birds I am seeing this year, who knows when the last time was I saw one of these.

Stops at Three Crabs and Oyster House yielded no new finds. I drove right by the entrance to Dungeness National Wildlife Refuge. Then I thought better about this, turned around, and was glad I did. The highlight of the refuge is a 9 mile spit, one of the longest in the world, and growing 13 more feet a year.

But first you walk through a half mile of tall conifers. This is where I saw the above newt. I also added Townsend’s Chipmunk to the mammal list. I heard, then caught a glimpse of one of the creatures of the deep woods here, Pacific Wren (514). In all, I heard 5 and saw 1 along this busy half mile trail. With nothing new to add from Ediz Hook in Port Angeles, I called it a day, the third straight here of 4 new additions to the Big Year list. I’m satisfied I covered this area thoroughly so it is time to move on. Tomorrow I work my way around the coastal side of the Olympic Peninsula to Westport, home base for the duration of the trip.