robsbigyear2019.com

I recently predicted that my next new bird would be magpie. These trips are so long and involve so much driving I am loathe to get off the highway and add even one more mile, it’s enough just to get to my next destination. But yesterday I looked at the map and saw what an easy day today would be (it was) I decided to go off the highway a little to a place I went to two years ago to try for Henslow’s Sparrow. I doubted they were still singing and I could not find any August records on eBird anywhere along I-80 . I stopped in the same spot I checked two years ago and sure enough I heard two Henslow’s Sparrows. (452). But after half an hour I could not get them to show and I had to see one to add it to my life list. If only a neighbor would drive by and give me permission to enter the land. I tried another area down the road and then came back toward where I was originally. I stopped when I heard something different and familiar. When I got out, I could hear two of them singing nearby – Sedge Wren (453)! I was not expecting this one this year. I saw a recent eBird report from this area but that is for those lucky people, not me. Eventually I got a good, brief look at one where two others were singing nearby. In this same field I could hear two more Henslow’s. “I need to get into these fields to see one. I need to find a neighbor who will give me permission.” By and by, a large SUV came by, slowed down, and a kindly 60-ish woman asked me if I was birdwatching. Yes indeed, with Henslow’s Sparrow at the top of the list. She introduced herself as Judy and told me I could go back to the top of the hill at the barn and walk the fields. In fact, she said, she owned everything from way down there to way up there, on both sides of the road! I had all the permission in the world to enter. It was like the parting of the Red Sea, I could now enter the realm of the elusive Henslow’s Sparrow! And so I did, and easily found one singing away:

I tried for this bird here two years ago and last year in Indiana so it was very satisfying to finally see it and add it to some lists (ABA 632), (World 2827) and the Big Year. I now have on my life list all North American sparrows except LeConte’s.

In this area I heard Red-headed Woodpecker and Yellow-billed Cuckoo. Set aside some land and wildlife abounds:

The scenery here is straight out of “Field of Dreams”, gently rolling hills covered in green, really lovely:

Hundreds of Cliff Swallows gathered on the wires along the way:

And look at all that corn! How about one more Henslow’s shot, as my camera battery was dying:

So the little detour was worth it to add two more good ones for the year. I would call this spot not just reliable for Henslow’s Sparrow, but a sure thing. And now that I have Judy’s express permission, I can wander these hills and fields at will and see all the Henslow’s Sparrows I want.

Tomorrow I log another 300 miles to get as far as Kearney, Nebraska. Monday I reach Colorado.

For the last two years I have driven right past Jamestown without stopping. A birder shouldn’t do that. Jamestown, New York is the birthplace of Roger Tory Peterson (and Lucille Ball!). I decided this year would be different. It was time to come off the highway for just a few minutes and have a look. After making my way through a residential neighborhood, I came upon this building. Inside you will find displays that connect you personally with him, like this one:

One of his first pair of binoculars and the last ones he used. Also in the display case are some copies of his ground-breaking field guide to the birds of 1934. Peterson was very important to my early development as a birder. In early childhood I received a copy of his book, “How to Know the Birds”. I still have that same copy, my oldest possession. This was all I had to go on back then- no binoculars, no field guide, no mentors, no groups or birding clubs. In fact to avoid ridicule, I had to suppress my interest in birds. Now I wave the flag, loud and proud. Here are Roger’s drawing and painting supplies:

His easel was off to the left. Notice the study skins, a screech owl and Snowy Owl. If you have time, you can watch the entire length of “Wild America”, both a book and a movie of the Big Year he ran with British ornithologist James Fisher in 1953. Sixty-six years later I am running my own Big Year.

The Hazards of the Highway:

I was making good time and just one exit from my hotel at 3:15 pm when traffic ground to a sudden halt. We were in a construction zone so I figured that was the delay. Then many rescue vehicles arrived and I knew it was an accident. A bad one. We were delayed for almost two hours, none of us mad, all of us glad it wasn’t us. I was only about 12 cars behind the site of the impacts. At least three cars were involved and one semi. A red pickup was crushed between the semi and the Jersey barriers. One of the cars was removed by a payloader, it looked like scrap metal. A medivac helicopter took away one of the victims. That’s all I have from I-80 westbound, Cleveland, Ohio. Back to the studio.

Somehow I lost my internet connection at the condo so this is a day or two late. But at last I added a few new ones to the list on Monday. Before going out to sea, I checked out several spots on the New Hampshire seacoast for shorebirds, Lesser Yellowlegs and Short-billed Dowitcher in particular. While scanning the salt marshes behind Little Jack’s, who should suddenly appear but Susan Wrisley, brimming with the latest information on where to find these two species. Nothing beats good local knowledge. She took me down the road a ways and there in the salt marsh was this Lesser Yellowlegs (450):

I was hoping to get to 450 during my stay in New Hampshire but at first I didn’t think that would be possible. Then the list grew little by little and here, on my last birding day, I reached that milestone. More importantly, in the same pool was a Short-billed Dowitcher (451), my last chance for this species. (Thank you, Susan!) While I was there, I learned that a Tufted Duck was seen Sunday in Exeter but the sewage ponds are only open on weekends so I missed this good rarity.

A quick pass through Plum Island failed to add anything new so it was on to Gloucester, surely the most storied fishing port on the East Coast.

Thanks to Zeke Cornell, I learned about a whale watch to Stellwagen Bank from Gloucester last Friday that recorded all 4 shearwaters in good numbers. So I booked a trip with 7 Seas Whale Watch. As we left the harbor, the captain announced we were going to Jeffrey’s Ledge, NOT Stellwagen Bank! Nooooooo!! Let me off the boat! Nothing doing so I had to try to make the best of it. As it turns out, our captain was the same one who was at the helm Friday at Stellwagen and he described that incident as “anomalous”. Shearwaters have been few so far this season. And so it was on Monday. I saw a few Greats and 2 Sootys. The captain pointed out a Cory’s Shearwater at 3:00 o’clock but I was at 9:00 o’clock and by the time I worked my way around the stern the bird was long gone. So I added nothing new from the trip and had to be content with big mammals, like this one:

I have since left New England. Today was the first of a six day slog out to Colorado. I predict my next new bird will be Black-billed Magpie. It could happen in Nebraska but more likely in Colorado, where I should add 5 to 10 new species. See you in a few days.

Birding is full of wild goose chases and I’ve had my share this Big Year with no doubt more to come. With the mid-summer doldrums in full swing, I’m looking for anything to do that is bird related. Our fair city of Meredith asks visitors to Hesky Park to assist in the effort to keep its lakefront park clean. Heeding the call to public service, I employed my Big Year Bureau of Film, Media Relations, and Publicity Stunts crew to record this memorable event with me “encouraging” the geese.

(Those are not gawking tourists in the traffic jam behind me.) I quickly learned that this job resembles trying to paint the Golden Gate Bridge – as soon as you finish one end you have to start all over again at the other end. These wily waterfowl split into two units, forcing you to deal with one, then the other. As soon as you got one group off the lawn, the other would brazenly return to the lawn behind you. Round and round and round ….

In the next day or two I’ll be rounding up the last handful of birds here in the East before I head out West to Colorado.

I didn’t hear about a real good one until yesterday. The day before a Red-necked Stint showed up on Plum Island. If I had been paying close attention- like I should have been – I would have been down there at dawn yesterday for this rare vagrant. I had no expectation of seeing this bird this year so it would have been a big bonus. This morning I checked the reports and as I expected, the bird did not stick around. Time to play.

A group of us went up to New London to visit George Green and Ruth White, members of the old New London birding gang. For how many years have I been hanging with them? They took us to exclusive Colby Point on Little Sunapee where if you don’t have a key, you are not getting in. Ruth has a key. Lunch and a swim on a hot summer’s day, the first of three 90 degree days in the forecast – our first heat wave of the summer.

That would be Ruth, George, Fern, and Special Guest and All-Star equestrian, Dawn Marier.

A soft sandy beach and a warm, fresh lake is hard to beat. A loon swimming by had the whole lake to himself. It was hard to pull ourselves away from this place. At the end of the day, I caught a perfect sunset on Paugus Bay:

Today was my last scheduled trip up to the North Country and Canada Jay was the sole target. I climbed up to pot hole rocks on the Caps Ridge Trail and crinkled my granola bar bag like we used to do to lure a jay in, but not today. I have a picture of me from here from about 6-8 years ago with a Canada Jay eating out of my hand. It was that easy. I thought I would then try my luck along the Link Trail. A little ways in something low crossed the trail in front of me, then started vocalizing. I ran toward it and could see a female Spruce Grouse (449) luring me away from her chicks. I gave chase up the mountain but it flushed just as I got on it. I tried again with the same result so I went back to where I first saw it and sat on the trail and waited. In 15 minutes back down the mountain came the bird I chased. But she must have detected my presence as after almost an hour she would come no closer, all the while vocalizing with various calls and clucks. Finally she gave in and crossed the trail but just out of my sight line.

I couldn’t believe my good luck. For some reason this area is not a Spruce Grouse hot spot. The last report to eBird for the Caps Ridge Trail was 4 years ago. I missed Canada Jay but I can try again for that in Colorado next month but this was my last shot for the grouse. Here is my eBird list for today:

https://ebird.org/view/checklist/S58236081

In part, the jay chase was a pretext to get up north and visit Mark and Sandy Turner, masters of the snow bird lifestyle. They live in New Hampshire and spend winters in the warmer climes of Florida, Arizona, Texas, or New Mexico, where ever they want. They haven’t seen a NH winter in over 30 years. I took this candid shot without their knowledge or permission and I publish it herewith likewise. Maybe I’ll get sued, probably I won’t, but either way, meet Sandy and Mark:

They remain active birders both in New Hampshire and down south. Come November they will be packing up and heading southbound again, missing yet another New Hampshire winter. Thanks for lunch, guys!

Yesterday, after learning of fresh reports of must-see Spruce Grouse in Vermont, replete with clear, close photographs, I returned to Moose Bog. Here was a chance to get two good birds- the grouse and Canada Jay, pushing me to the 450 mark. I walked the trail back and forth all day with no luck. Two other groups of birders, including one lady visiting from Switzerland (or was it Sweeden?) also struck out. Not even a Canada Jay, which was seen there the day before.

I watched this vireo gather nesting material from this paper birch. (I later found the nest.) Seems late.

So no grouse, no jay, not even a moose. I hate missing. I considered staying overnight up there to try again today. I went in to the nearby Bloomfield, Vermont general store to ask about the forecast. “They might be some showahs in the mahnin’,” I was told. “Best stay down on the fahm.” Finally, some English I can understand! The long ride home was rendered even longer by torrential downpours, and now today is a gray, dreary, drizzly day….

Yesterday I learned of a Little Gull (Code 3) on the beach at Laudholm Farm in Wells, Maine. This would make for a good bonus bird since I had no expectation of seeing it this year. I checked the tide tables and left here at 8:00 am and got to Wells at 9:30 at low tide. I had no trouble finding the flock of Bonaparte’s Gulls among which the Little Gull associates.

A thorough search of the flock failed to turn up anything smaller in size. Then a tern flew by that I thought might be a Roseate. That’s right! Roseate Tern was reported here recently and I need to look for it here. I followed the bird and it landed among other terns on the other side of the river. I had to pull off my shoes and socks and roll up my pants (I dress like a Mennonite when I’m birding on the beach.) and wade through the river. On the other side I confirmed my suspicions, several Roseate Terns (448) (federally endangered in the Northeast) mixed in with Common Terns.

Notice first the very long tail feathers of the Roseate up front. Next look at the bill, it’s longer and thinner than the Common’s, not to mention all black except at the base. The angle has some effect but Roseate is paler overall. Just yards from this site is a very large Least Tern colony with Piping Plovers (federally threatened) mixed in.

So again mixed results, with one miss and one new species. Now I don’t have to search for the tern on the New Hampshire coast, allowing me to focus on other things. If anything else interesting shows up I’ll give chase but otherwise I’ll wait for some shorebird migration that should start happening very soon.

Last summer I found three Ruffed Grouse in the Lakes Region alone. I even photographed a fledgling. This year I found none in any of those three places nor at Turkey Pond. It’s possible that the wet spring pared reproductive success reducing the chances of encountering a hen with chicks, the best way to see this species after drumming season ends. A check of my records showed a sighting at Franklin Falls Dam in Franklin a few years ago. I don’t remember the sighting but I do know there is good habitat in there.

Early this morning, I hiked the serpentine mountain bike trails that wind back and forth through the habitat favored by the Ruffed Grouse searcher. First down Moose Gully Trail, then Pine Snake Trail, up Middle Trail, around Stump, and back on Sniper Trail. By doing so, I slowly tightened the noose, gradually ceding little room for one to hide, closing off all exits, eliminating any possibility of escape. After a two hour hunt, the familiar whir of wings and then the collision of wing and branches as the bird rose. It could be just one thing, let all doubt vanish, the inescapable conclusion: Ruffed Grouse (447)!

I now only need three more species to reach 450 by the end of the month. Below the White Mountains and away from the seacoast there are really only three species left: saw-whet owl, goshawk, and Black-billed Cuckoo. The owl would be tough this time of year without tape playback and so far I haven’t even tried. The gos and cuckoo could be encountered any time any place but there is no specific location to search. Up in the mountains, I still need Canada Jay and Spruce Grouse. I plan to launch a search for the grouse probably next week and hope to find the jay incidentally. On the coast, a Big Year mother lode awaits me. I need some easy shorebirds like Short-billed Dowitcher, Sanderling, and Lesser Yellowlegs. Roseate Tern and any scoter are also missing and another whale watch is in the works for Cory’s Shearwater, where the open sea harbors the ever-present possibility of finding something totally unexpected.

Today I had just one target up north that I hoped would be a quick surgical strike, but instead it turned into hand-to-hand combat. I left Laconia at 5 am and arrived at Trudeau Road at 6:15. A recent report from this area told of a family of Black-backed Woodpeckers, plus White-winged Crossbills, Rusty Blackbirds, and Black-billed Cuckoo. I already saw the crossbills here a few days ago but I don’t mind seeing a bird of this quality again.

I didn’t see the blackbirds and I didn’t hear my first Black-billed Cuckoo of the year. Worse, after more than an hour I didn’t see any Black-backed Woodpeckers. Then I thought I heard one in the woods and I tried bushwacking in there but it’s pretty dense and pretty wet in there. I continued walking the trails, back and forth for an hour and a half more, with no luck. Two other birders were in there but they didn’t see anything either. Finally I heard one calling and as I got over to that area, it flew across the trail, where I tried to get a good look. It then flew back, directly overhead, calling, and landed in a tree adjacent to the trail. And there it was: Black-backed Woodpecker (446). Down the trail 30 yards was a second bird, allowing me to get a documentation-quality picture:

It’s enough to show a solid black back so we know it’s not a Hairy. On the way out, I saw a third one. This is not an easy bird to get around here, so it was a very satisfying find, especially after missing it here and at Moose Bog earlier this week. I hadn’t seen one in a number of years. This is my 18th woodpecker this year, with about three more to go. I now only need four more ticks to reach 450 before the end of the month. A few shorebirds will be easy once they arrive, and the rest will have to be pried out one at a time.