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Another glorious day in the North Country, with blue skies and white puffy clouds, temperatures in the low 80’s. First stop was Weeks State Park in Lancaster. The gate was closed so I walked the mile plus up the mountain road to near the top when I heard a vireo that sounded different. But very close by a weed whacker was running full speed, drowning out the song. I continued up to the house at the top, couldn’t find a Mourning Warbler, and started down. Just below the clearing I saw movement. One bird was a Chestnut-sided Warbler, the other moved closer to me, paused, and gave me a brief but good view. It resembled a Warbling Vireo but they aren’t up here, plus it had a faint yellow wash below and dark lores. Yes! Philadelphia Vireo (443), a bird I had low hopes for seeing this year. But there it was, right where Zeke said he had one recently.

Next stop: Vermont’s fabled Northeast Kingdom, a land of legends, trolls, wood nymphs, and fairy tales. My specific destination was Moose Bog, a patch of boreal forest with reports as recent as just two days old of White-winged Crossbill, Black-backed Woodpecker, and Canada Jay. The crossbill came easily (444) as there were many singing away and flying around. On my second sweep down the trail I heard the loud clear “jip-jip, jip-jip” of Red Crossbill (445), also reported here and in several New Hampshire sites recently. After three hours of searching, I could locate neither the jay nor the woodpecker, a big disappointment. But look at that scenery:

From there it was on to Trudeau Road in Bethlehem, NH, to try for the woodpecker there. The best I could do was good looks at a bright red male White-winged Crossbill and close looks at Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, Canada Warbler, and the nest of Yellow-bellied Sapsucker.

I’ll be lying low over the holiday weekend and with nice weather and temperatures maybe hitting 90 for the first time this summer, the roads will be busy and the lake will be refreshing.

Last week I heard two loud impacts on my windshield driving down the highway but I didn’t notice any damage until Saturday when a big crack appeared. Yesterday I made arrangements and this morning they came over and replaced the windshield. That’s two good mornings I lost. I still need some singing songbirds up north that won’t be singing much more if at all. Whether this delay is fatal we’ll find out tomorrow when I head north.

Meanwhile, I followed up on Zeke Cornell’s Roseate Tern sightings at Hampton Harbor but I’m just not as lucky as Zeke. I continued the search up the coast but nothing. The most interesting sighting of the day was a Green Heron drinking from a puddle in a driveway off Rt 1-A!

The list stands at 442 with a chance to reach 450 before I leave here the end of the month.

Ah, the open sea. Wide open, free, and full of birds unavailable to the landlubber. Yesterday I was joined by Zeke Cornell, Becky Suomala, Steve Bennett, and Susan Wrisley on a whale watch out of Rye, New Hampshire. What a great team, nothing will get past us. Thick fog limited our visibility until we got out to Jeffrey’s Ledge. The first new bird on the way out was Sooty Shearwater (440), soon followed by Great Shearwater (441). Those were really my only two expected targets out there so I was satisfied to get this. We also saw Wilson’s Storm-Petrels in abundance:

Imagine nesting in Antarctica and summering off New England – the original snowbird. We also stopped to look at this queer fish – Ocean Sunfish or Mola Mola:

The whales were present in good numbers but I always secretly hope we don’t see any – so we can earn a voucher for a free trip. I’ve only gotten lucky with that once. I added four new mammals to the Big Year mammal list: Harbor Porpoise, Gray Seal, Humpback Whale, and Fin Whale.

Back On shore, three of us went out to lunch and afterward Steve and Susan generously stopped at the marsh where the Little Egret was seen by some earlier in the month, and pointed out for me in a tidal channel a bona fide American Black Duck (442).

This morning I returned to a known location for Ruffed Grouse – Turkey Pond. I bushwacked the area on the west side of the pond but steady rain forced me to retreat. I did find a few of the less common species here like Black-throated Blue Warbler, Nashville Warbler, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, and even a calling Red-shouldered Hawk.

Next week I will execute an ambitious North Country tour to clean up some of the boreal species I need before they stop singing. The clock is ticking louder than ever as we approach the half-way mark of 2019.

I need American Black Duck. They’re around, I just need to find one. Today I went up the road to a sanctuary on Squam Lake. Is there a more lovely lake in the world? According to a book I have, there are no commercial developments on the lake – no marinas, motels, condominiums. Just lots of beautiful, calming, wooded shoreline.

I ran in to two gentleman birders on the trail. We exchanged notes on what we had seen. Then I was hit with: “There is a Black-throated Blue Warbler over there, have you ever seen one of those?” Huh? “My good sir. What kind of midget do you take me for?” I wanted to say. “There is a Blue Jay over here, have you ever seen one of those?” I wished I could blurt out. Oh, if only we could say what we really want to say.

Finding no Black Duck, I stopped at Town Docks in Meredith and found part of a Black Duck:

The lower one is noticeably darker but the bill isn’t quite right and it’s not quite overall dark enough. Tomorrow I hope to find one on the coast as I head out to sea in search of birds of the North Atlantic.

We have a winner to last week’s Puzzler! Sifting through the sacks and sacks of mail from you, my esteemed readers, I found this correct entry. What would weigh more on the moon than on Earth? Right, a helium balloon. It comes from Barcinka of the Czech Republic, who just happens to be the star of the biggest daytime drama in all of Eastern Europe, improbably called “Days of Our Knives”, featuring some armed violence, she says, but mostly the standard soap opera fare. Lucky for all of us, she includes her photograph with her five page letter. Here, you lucky readers, published for the first time in the United States, a picture of Barcinka:

“I love your Blog, Rob,” she gushes, in English. “I wish it could last a lifetime,” etc., etc., she goes on about her ideal man, “big and strong,” “gentle yet rugged”, and “knowledgeable about birds”, la da dee da da, and finally ends with “I hope to come to America to meet you and look for birds with you.” Barcinka, I look forward to your visit very soon, and I will tune in to your show the very next chance I get.

Today was a great day, and how can you go wrong with a puffin trip. I drove up to Boothbay Harbor and hopped on a boat and went out for a cruise. A puffin cruise, and what could be better. Is there a more photogenic and endearing bird in the world? See for yourself:

An hour out and we came upon a barren rock of an island, Eastern Egg Rock, the farthest east I will travel for this Big Year. And there they were, dozens of Atlantic Puffins (435) flying, floating, ducking into burrows. The kind of bird that can get a non-birding crowd out of their seats. Sharing this rock were many Black Guillemots (434) and Arctic Terns (436).

Thanks to Dr. Stephen Kress, we have puffins here at Eastern Egg Rock, the southern -most colony of this species. He tirelessly worked for years to bring puffins back and succeeded in a big way. I remember meeting him about 25 years ago when he signed his book for me, but I don’t remember the occasion. On the way back to the dock, I watched two Wilson’s Storm-Petrels (437) fly across the water and a Northern Gannet (438) resting on the ocean’s surface.

From there it was an hour north to Belgrade for another “seabird.” But this one nests in freshwater marshes, and Belgrade holds one of the few colonies of this species in all of New England. I stopped at the boat ramp on Messalonskee Lake, scanned with binoculars, and found two Black Terns (439) flying elegantly over the marsh. Six new species today, the largest one-day haul since June 3. I reflected on how I stood on this very same spot some 25 years ago to record my life Black Tern. Deja vu. I came up here after taking a puffin cruise earlier that day out to Eastern Egg Rock.

I thought I was getting the day off today as a rain day but as I studied the forecast it showed a rain-free morning. I found a place to search for a good bird that would not require a long drive up to Coos County. Instead, I only needed to visit Guinea Pond in Sandwich. So up historic Sandwich Notch Road I went, a road windy, hilly, and narrow such that the trees form a canopy overhead and you drive through a forest tunnel.

I found the trail head and hiked up Guinea Pond Trail. After less than a mile I could go no farther without rubber boots. Were the birds seen at Guinea Pond or along Guinea Pond Trail? I didn’t carefully note this but if it was the pond, I was out of luck. You can’t get there from here.

I walked around on the trail until my feet were soaked. First one way then the other. I thought I heard a blackbird in the bog so I had to keep listening. But nothing was moving, my feet were wet, it was starting to rain, and maybe I was in the wrong place. I turned back, and as I did I heard a blackbird. Then it moved closer, calling. Is that the call of Rusty Blackbird? Through the trees I could see an all-black bird with a pale eye. Then it flew right toward me so close it had to veer off but it landed just yards away, along with a second bird. Now it was singing its rusty gate song – Rusty Blackbird (433)! Really great to see this breeding pair of this drastically reduced species.

A rainy day should be the perfect time to look for a duck so I drove down to Copp’s Pond in Tuftonboro where an American Black Duck and ducklings were recently reported.

Just before I got there I saw a turtle in the road. I immediately deployed my Turtle Protection and Rescue Squad – me. I grabbed a big stick and pushed it off the road. A neighbor came out with a garden implement. “I’ve moved this turtle out of the road three times!”, he claimed. Well, make it four. He pushed the big snapper into the brook, where it swam safely away. Back to work. I saw many ducks on the pond, maybe even some Blacks, but they were too far away to be sure.

There aren’t that many things left around here to chase. Tomorrow is a certain rain day, but next week I return to Maine for a puffin cruise out of Boothbay Harbor.

One advantage of the Caps Ridge Trail, which starts here, is that you can park your car at 3,000 feet and minimize the hiking. A mile up from here you enter the ream of Bicknell’s Thrush, surely the most sought-after bird in New Hampshire. My goal was that one plus Boreal Chickadee and Canada Jay. I found the chickadee (431) in the parking lot, heard two more on the trail, and got good face-to-face looks at one on the way down. Up past sculpted rocks I heard a distant Bicknell’s Thrush (432) sing once, later heard another one sing persistently, then added two more well below sculpted rocks. I tried for Canada Jay but no luck, even crinkling a fruit bar wrapper didn’t bring one out (that’s different from tape play back).

I ate lunch in front of the Mount Washington Hotel:

One of the last of the Great Hotels, back when guests arrived by train (as many as 57 a day) from the great cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia. The world held the Bretton Woods Conference here in 1944 resulting in the formation of the International Monetary Fund and, ultimately, the World Bank.

Yesterday’s post didn’t go through so I’ll summarize it here. I went up to Conway to the Dahl Sanctuary for Mourning Warbler but no luck.

Later I stopped in at the Nature Conservancy’s Ossipee Pine Barrens just to walk around.

Here are a few of the birds there:

And there was a new Puzzler. It goes something like this. You may find this one heavy or light, depending on your perspective. We all know the moon has only 1/6th the gravity of Earth, so that a 600 pound lady, when transported to the moon, would weigh in at just 100 pounds, much to her delight. Name something that weighs more on the moon than on Earth. Good luck. And no cheating.

A full-length coastal trip was overdue so today was the day. I had a fairly short list of birds to get through starting at Plum Island. I discovered when I got there that Seaside Sparrow needs a scope and mine is at home. In Arizona. To the far end of the island I went and found several Piping Plovers (427). The above beach is closed to human traffic so plovers and Least Terns can nest in peace.

Farther along I found a Saltmarsh Sparrow (428) so it was time to get the day’s prize out of the way. As I approached the saltmarsh in New Hampshire I just had a feeling the Little Egret wasn’t there today. I was right! Of the three weeks it’s been present it’s only not been present on about 2 days. I have been there both those days. But no worries, there is always Maine.

The one in Scarborough Marsh has been absent for days and remains so. I asked a passing birder about the egret but he hadn’t seen it in a while. I heard a vaguely familiar song in the marsh. “Isn’t that Nelson’s Sparrow?”, I asked, and he assured me it was. When it flew I was sure too. (429) He also warned me that the other Little Egret at Maine Audubon’s Gilsland Farm would be hard to get at high tide. It was high tide. Time to disprove these naysaysers.

Up the Maine Turnpike I went, found the site, and walked the trail. No egret. All I could hear in my head was “nemesis bird.” No, not that! I’ll never see it if that happens. Maybe it’s the high tide. I sat in my car for awhile and grew sleepy. Should I leave now before I fall asleep at the wheel? Maybe the bird is there now. I even had my seat belt on and was ready to leave when I snapped out of it, unhooked the belt, flung open the door, and marched down the path. First bird – Snowy Egret. Next bird:

Look at that plume – Little Egret (430), my 4th Code 4 bird of the year. It only had one long plume, I hope that doesn’t mean it’s only half Little Egret. If it is, I’ll have to go back to Rye. But that’s ok, I think I’ve broken the jinx.

Only a handful of places in the US have a major annual biker rally. Laconia would have to be one of them. I think it’s the oldest in the country. They used to call it “Motorcycle Weekend” but like so many things, the thinking is that if a little is good, a lot must be better. We now have “Motorcycle Week.” Can “Motorcycle Year” be far behind? Some would call it the world’s largest gathering of knuckle draggers. Wicked and vile? In abundance. Debauchery? Galore. Knuckleheadedness? More than you can endure.

Some of the costumes you see can be quite creative:

Authorities cracked down a few years ago on women lifting their tops in response to requests by passing bikers. “Show us your ___!” The solution? Do away with the top! As you can see, she’s not lifting anything! That’s not to say this behavior doesn’t still happen. In fact, last year it happened right in front of us. I, as you would expect, averted my eyes.

The rally ends tomorrow and we can return to the peace and quiet we expect and deserve. I’ll be making a course correction very soon and getting back to birding like I know you want me to.

I made my first foray into the north country today searching first for Mourning Warbler. I tried a few places on Base Station Road near Crawford Notch but no luck. Jefferson Notch Road is now open but I’ll cover that later this month, maybe next week. I needed to chase both Mourning Warbler and Yellow-bellied Flycatcher so I went over to Pondicherry to have a look around. It’s not uncommon to see a bear there but this is the only mammal I saw, new to the year’s mammal list:

I couldn’t find a Mourning Warbler recently reported at Waumbeck Junction and no Black-backed Woodpecker at Little Cherry Pond. So there is always reliable Mud Pond for the flycatcher.

A classic boreal setting with spruce/fir forest, a glacial kettle hole pond, refreshing temperatures in the low 60’s, not too sunny. On the walk in I was sure I heard a single note from a Yellow-bellied Flycatcher. I walked down to the pond then back to that spot where I thought I heard it. It sang a single note a few times but then another one sounded out, singing a more complete song and assuring me it was what I thought it was (426). I have now seen all 34 species of flycatchers that nest in North America, there are no more left to chase. I’ll be spending the next week or so, weather permitting, covering both the north country and the seacoast. Can I find a Mourning Warbler, the 40th of that family? Will Little Egret become my next nemesis? Only this blog will tell you.