The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

No matter how many times I bird northern Minnesota, I don’t think I will ever tire of its landscape or its avian inhabitants.  It is home.  And it is a place birders from all over the country and even the world want to go, often repeatedly.  For me, it holds the same allure as a place like southeastern Arizona.  Despite how many times you may see the resident species, they never fail to bring the wow factor, even after years of birding bring about new birding destinations and additions to the life list.

Our annual tradition is to go home to the Iron Range the day after Christmas to visit Melissa’s family.  The timing of our visit allows me to participate in the Cook area Christmas Bird Count.  This is the CBC I look forward to the most.  Even though species counts are usually low, it’s the quality that trumps the quantity.

Cook CBC

Local birder Julie Grahn always keeps me apprised of good sightings when we go back home.  This time was no different as she had not one, but three Northern Hawk Owls hanging out in the Cook area.  I was ecstatic.  Despite all the owls I have seen over the years, I have never observed any of the northern owls anywhere close to home.  And I have always wanted to.  So the day before the CBC, I went about searching to finally enjoy one of these awesome owls in an area I enjoy the most.  Hawk Owls are usually not hard to spot, but I was only able to find one of Julie’s owls.  It was good enough.  Actually, it was perfect.

Northern Hawk OwlHanging out with a Hawk Owl by yourself is more enjoyable than being part of the owl paparazzi at the Sax-Zim Bog.  This particular owl was first sitting on top of a power pole with his back toward me.  Of course owls move their heads in all directions, but I was absolutely shocked when it took off flying in the direction it had its back to and nabbed a vole nearly a quarter mile away.  The owl then came back and worked on enjoying his meal in the privacy of various spruce trees.

For the CBC the next day, I recruited Evan to help me record bird tallies and spot birds.  Evan has not been into birds for a very long time.  That’s dad’s thing.  I’ve been cool with that. This recruitment was not about me trying to turn him into a birder again; it was about spending time together and also doing something Evan enjoys immensely–grouse hunting.  He agreed to do the CBC because there might be a chance to get a Ruffed Grouse as I regularly see them whenever I bird the Northland.  Evan was excited. I was excited.  After all, I’ve seen some pretty darn good incidental birds while taking him out hunting this fall.  In October there was an incredible encounter with a juvenile Northern Goshawk while we were grouse hunting on his Great Grandma’s property:

Northern Goshawk Northern GoshawkThis Goshawk was seen multiple times because it was carefully guarding and working on a Snowshoe Hare meal along a trail that we walked several times in search of Grouse. Northern Goshawk Northern Goshawk

And about a month ago, I took Evan pheasant hunting on a WMA near Willmar and came face-to-face with a Long-eared Owl while trying to push pheasants out of a small spruce grove.

Long-eared OwlIn these instances, birding was secondary and turned out to be phenomenal.  Now on the CBC, the hunting was secondary.  Would the birding be just as good?

Things started off fairly mundane on our CBC route: the usual American Crows and ubiquitous Common Ravens.  Of course, for me, any bird is exciting on a CBC.  Each bird counts and gives you something to tally as an observer.  The hope for a good species count or unusual count numbers (high or low) or a rare species keeps the interest high at all times. But for Evan, who was hoping for a Ruffed Grouse to shoot, it was starting off kind of boring, though he dutifully tallied whatever I dictated to him.  Things picked up a bit when I spied a Black-billed Magpie, a very good bird for the count.  Evan seemed interested that we had found a “good” bird.  And then I spotted a Red Fox bedded down in a field.  Evan enjoyed checking him out with my binoculars.

Red FoxShortly after this, we were approaching a Northern Hawk Owl territory, and I was on high alert scanning everywhere.  This would be a key bird for the count, and I really wanted to get it bad.  This resulted in me spotting a bird high in a birch tree that I first thought was our target.  But it wasn’t.  I was just as thrilled, though, because it was a Ruffed
Grouse–I knew Evan would be pumped.  Sure enough, new life came to the almost teenager as he frantically transitioned from his pencil and clipboard to getting his gun ready.  Despite Evan’s best attempt at being stealthy like the fox, the grouse flew away unscathed without a shot fired.  A letdown for sure, but now Evan at least knew his dad wasn’t crazy when he said there would probably be a chance to shoot at a grouse.

We set about working our route, and at one point, we were near one of my favorite black spruce bogs to bird.  Some of this bog is in the circle and some is out of it.  Just for fun I decided to check one of my hotpsots for rare woodpeckers just a couple hundred yards outside of the circle. I played a Black-backed Woodpecker recording and instantly heard one vocalize just off the road. I went into the bog after it and saw that gorgeous jet black back of a female Black-backed Woodpecker.

Black-backed WoodpeckerAs I watched her, I was surprised when a male Black-backed scooted down the tree, interacted with her, and buzzed off.  Where had he come from?  The male wasn’t as photogenic but still gave some great looks.

Black-backed WoodpeckerEvan had declined my offer to join me in the swamp to see these rare woodpeckers even though I knew he hadn’t seen them before.  He opted to stay in the car; non-Grouse birds were still not exciting to him.  He should have joined me because there was so much woodpecker activity (these two plus a Hairy), that I was stomping around in the bog for quite some time investigating every bit of tapping.  And then, I heard yet another woodpecker drumming in a cadence that was perfect for a woodpecker even more rare than the Black-backed. It was an American Three-toed Woodpecker!  I played a recording, and it instantly flew in, allowing me to visually confirm what I had heard. This species is rare enough in Minnesota that it is flagged in eBird and requires documentation. Thankfully I was able to get a few identifiable photos.

American Three-toed WoodpeckerOnce again I asked Evan if he now wanted to check out two rare woodpecker species, but he declined.  He’s never seen either. There was so much activity that it was hard to keep straight, and our quick stop to check for woodpeckers was now going on a half hour.  Even still, Evan preferred the car over the excitement around us. This particular spot has often held these two elusive boreal woodpecker species.  In fact, two years ago almost to the day, I had the same encounter in this same spot: two Black-backeds and a single Three-toed.

As exciting as the Woodpeckers were, I had a bored kid in the car and an unfinished CBC route.  So we got back to it. The way the CBC circle falls, we only had to go a half mile before we were back in the circle again but still in the same spruce bog.  This bog has held Boreal Chickadees in the past, so I decided to stop and try the secret weapon: playing the recording of chickadees mobbing a singing Eastern Screech-Owl.  It never fails to attract a swarm of angry Black-capped Chickadees, looking to bring war to a fake owl.  Often times this tremendous commotion can bring in other onlooker birds, ready to join the angry mob with their pitchforks.  Sometimes this even attracts rare birds.  And this time it did. Two of the chickadees sounded different than the others and proved to be the much rarer Boreal Chickadee.  This was a solid find for the count.

Boreal Chickadee Boreal ChickadeeI asked Evan if he wanted to get a good look at the coolest chickadee species there is, but he again declined.  I was pumped regardless.  It’s always fun to see these birds, even more so when they count for a CBC.  A bonus was that as I was observing them, another Black-backed Woodpecker flew into the bog nearby and vocalized!  Another great count bird!

We got back to doing our route.  Evan was hoping for grouse redemption; I was hoping for something, anything, that would be interesting.  My hope came true first.  Going down a road, we saw a half dozen Ravens scatter from the road.  They must have been on a kill.  Evan said, “Looks like six ravens and one magpie.”

“There was no magpie there,” I responded.

“Well, look in that tree right there by the road.  There’s something special in it.”  So I looked with the binos and caught sight of a Black-billed Magpie flying out of that tree!  The kid was right, and I had missed it.  I think he felt a surge of pride and was starting to get into this count thing.

A few miles later as we drove down a different road with the windows cracked, I heard some chickadees. So I decided to play the mobbing recording again.  It paid off with a pile of Black-capped Chickadees, a few Red-breasted Nuthatches, and two more Boreal Chickadees!

Boreal Chickadee

Boreal ChickadeeEvan still didn’t share my same level of enthusiasm, but we both shared enthusiasm for the CBC potluck right after finishing our route.  The potluck is just as exciting for the nourishment as it is for catching up with other birders and comparing notes on how everybody did.  Additionally, it was a reunion of sorts for me as I was among a group of over a dozen people that included several parents of kids I graduated with over 20 years ago.  So after food was in our bellies and sufficient small talk was made with people from a past life, it was time to go through everybody’s results.  Julie Grahn, who is the compiler for the count, did this by calling out a species and then have everyone go around the table giving their numbers for that species.  Evan surprised me when he whispered, “Dad, I want to be the one to say the numbers.”  Maybe he was finding some interest in this CBC thing after all, even if he didn’t get a grouse from it.  Not surprisingly, Evan and I were the only ones to produce Boreal Chickadees.  Surprisingly, our Black-backed Woodpecker was one of four that day. Evan and I also produced half of the total Magpies as well as the only Northern Shrike.

After we bid goodbye to our CBC friends until next year, I decided to run Evan out to the two Hawk Owl spots.  Even before we reached the first territory, he was questioning why we were doing this when we’ve seen Hawk Owls before.  I tried to explain that they are just that cool and are always worth seeing, especially when they are close.  I don’t think he was buying it, though.  The first Hawk Owl was right where it was supposed to be.  Evan, who had never used binoculars in his early birding days, picked up my pair and looked at the owl.  Evan had never seen an owl through quality optics before, and clearly he was impressed. “Whoa! He’s creepy. He has yellow eyes! He’s staring at me!”   I chuckled as the little birdwatching kid from the past was back, for however a brief a moment.

We moved on the second Northern Hawk Owl which set up territory right at the edge of the count circle.  When we got there, it was on a high pole just outside the circle.  This time I set up my scope and zoomed all the way in on this owl for Evan to get a really good look.   “Wow! It’s like he’s looking into my soul!”

Evan

As we watched, the owl did us a huge favor and flew down into the count circle! We thought we saw it go to the ground and guessed that it had gotten a vole.  Sure enough, he popped up and landed in the trees right near us with a vole in its talons.

Northern Hawk Owl

Evan and I were in the car by this point, and the owl kept flying all around us, landing at various perches, and working on downing his meal.  “This is incredible.  This is absolutely amazing.  This is the coolest thing I have ever seen!”  Evan was in genuine awe.  I hadn’t seen him that excited since we saw the Boreal Owl two years ago.  I got just as much a kick out of watching Evan’s reaction as I did watching the Hawk Owl.  I think Evan was starting to understand that Hawk Owls are never ever not cool.  What other owl not only doesn’t care about you but also gives you the death stare from 20 feet above your car?

Northern Hawk OwlAfter we texted Julie to let her know that two Hawk Owls were securely in the circle for count day, we headed back toward Grandma and Grandpa’s.  I was sure to take a route that would run us through some habitat where I have had good luck seeing Ruffed Grouse over the years at this late hour in the day.  When there is so much snow on the ground, the grouse will eat the catkins of birch trees near dusk.  As we drove along, we were able to spot two grouse doing just that, and Evan was able to harvest them. And to cap an already great day, I heard and saw our 5th Boreal Chickadee of the day.

The next day we were supposed to head back to Willmar, but a huge snowstorm had covered almost the entire state. Traveling would have been treacherous, so we extended our stay one day.  The snow was so bad, that when I attempted to go out birding in the middle of the day, I had to turn back because of unplowed roads.  The 15-minute foray was not unproductive as it produced three Black-billed Magpies doing their best Bigfoot impressions.

Black-billed MagpieThe weather calmed down enough later in the afternoon, and the plows had cleared the roads.  So I made another attempt at birding.  I really wanted to spend some time in the solitude of the spruce bog, tracking down woodpeckers again.  Well, it was a complete 180 from yesterday–absolutely nothing was around.  So I began to drive home but always with a watchful and hopeful eye for anything cool.  I have longed to see Great Gray Owls on this particular road and have been trying for about 6 years now.  I did not see any of the Great Grays, but three moving clumps in the top of a birch tree got the birding juices flowing again.  Ruffed Grouse! I looked at the clock and realized that I probably had enough time to go pick up Evan and bring him back to this spot.  With an hour until sunset, I figured those birds would be there for a good long while.  So I phoned ahead to the house so he would be ready for me to pick him up and make a quick return.  Then I marked the tree on Google Maps so I could get right to it again.  Within 20 minutes, I had gotten Evan and we were back at the spot except…the grouse were gone.  We were both wondering if I was off a bit in my marking, so we continued to scan treetops.  Finally I decided to turn around and go looking in the other direction.  To turn around, I had to perform a 3-point turn on the narrow gravel road, a move I have perfected over all these years of birding.  As I had the car crossways on the gravel road, Evan shouts out, “Dad! An owl!”  My mind was reeling.  Was it the Great Gray I had been after for so long? Where was it?? I couldn’t find what Evan was seeing. “Dad, it’s right there!” Finally, I caught sight of the owl just 20 feet away perched 6 feet high.  It was a beautiful Barred Owl. And it didn’t care that through serendipity we had invaded the exact spot it was hunting.

Barred OwlIt was truly magical in this winter wonderland.  Had we not turned around in that exact spot and had Evan not had watchful eyes, we easily would have missed this owl.  Can you see why?

Barred OwlThe owl allowed us to complete our 3-point turn and gawk some more.  Evan effused more words of awe at this majestic creature that just stared back at us. The little boy who used to get excited about birds was back.  It was an incredible moment to share together.  We both seemed to have forgotten about grouse completely.  It was just a spectacular display of nature–vibrant life that had materialized out of the deep, dark bog.

Barred OwlWe finally peeled ourselves away from the Barred Owl.  Like the owl, we had hunting to do.  In that respect we were quite successful.  We ended up seeing a total of six more Ruffed Grouse, and Evan was able to take two.  As we drove and scanned for grouse, I was struck by how things had come full circle. Almost 30 years ago, I was the one sitting in the passenger seat hoping there would be a grouse to shoot, while being driven around by my dad who didn’t really care if he shot a grouse or not.  And in that same vein, maybe someday Evan will return to a greater interest in watching the birds more than hunting.  Regardless, we made some great memories together in the northwoods.

Flying Away

2015 wasn’t supposed to include a Colorado trip.  After our visit last summer, I wasn’t planning to go back for a long time. Life had other plans as it so often does, and on May 29th I found myself on an airplane heading back to Colorado to say a final goodbye to my Aunt Carol who lost her fight with cancer.  This mountain valley had now lost some of its beauty and charm.

Wet Mountain Valley

Aunt Carol meant a great deal to many, many people.  I have many fond memories of staying at Uncle Jon and Aunt Carol’s house as kid and then visiting them a few times as an adult.  She had a zest for life and was always game for something fun and spontaneous, especially if it involved having a good time with people she loved. In these ways she embodied the things I enjoy most about birding.  Speaking of birding, Aunt Carol has always been a big fan of birds. Long, long before I was a birder, I remember her raving about the beauty of the Rose-breasted Grosbeaks that would visit their Minnesota home.  I remember thinking that was something I had to see.

Rose-breasted GrosbeakIn her Colorado home, Aunt Carol spoke fondly of the Mountain Bluebirds which are common at their mountain residence. Carol had quite the special relationship with these birds as a pair would nest right outside her bedroom.  Last year she showed us how she could give a whistle and the male would fly in.  It was pretty neat.

Aunt Carol's "pet" Mountain Bluebird

Aunt Carol’s “pet” Mountain Bluebird

On this trip to Colorado my cousin Danny pointed out decorations Carol put on her patio doors to help these Bluebirds avert window strikes.

Another bird that reminds me of Aunt Carol is the Bushtit.  Last year she got quite a kick out of the bird’s humorous name, laughingly saying, “I think I’d like to see some of those Bushtits for myself!”

Bushtit

This trip was not a birding trip, but you can’t go to Colorado without seeing cool birds.  Since we were flying in late at night on a Friday, busy with family most of Saturday, and flying home around noon on Sunday, there was only the slightest of margins to see these birds. However, don’t confuse birding the margins with marginal birding.  Regardless of one’s time budget, good birds can easily be had in this state.  I have a lot of birding left to do in Colorado that will require more trips, but knowing I wouldn’t have much time on this trip, I took a precision approach.  I would focus on just one bird–a very common and very conspicuous bird I had never seen: the Bullock’s Oriole.  It was very doable.

My brother, Jason, and I flew into Denver together and spent Friday night there.  The next morning we would be joining my cousin, Karin, for the three-hour drive down to Westcliffe.  With the help of eBird, I found Sondermann Park which was convenient stop in Colorado Springs just two blocks off I-25 at exit 144 where several Bullock’s Orioles had recently been reported.  With trails that were short and right by the parking area, I convinced Karin and Jason that this would be a good stretch break.

Western birds were readily apparent with a Spotted Towhee being the first bird we saw/heard.

Spotted Towhee

I was practically racing along the paths looking for my Oriole since we were short on time.  In the meantime, it was fun to run into several Western Tanagers. I promise there’s one in this photo.

Western Tanager

I did have better looks later on at some other WETAs, but I did something I don’t normally do–I enjoyed them through binoculars only.  Other birds adding to the western flavor were a couple of Western Wood Pewees and a lone Bushtit.  Eventually, though, I finally heard the familiar ratcheting call of a Bullock’s Oriole which sounds nearly identical to our Baltimore Oriole back home.  The Bullock’s and Baltimore were once considered a single species known as the Northern Oriole.  Genetic studies caused the species to be split into two in the 1990s.  Despite hearing the bird, I either saw it in bad light or briefly as an orange streak in good light.  Very unsatisfying, but a life bird nonetheless.  We had to get back on the highway, though, so better looks would have to wait until some future date.

What did give great looks were some appropriately named Violet-green Swallows at our hotel in Westcliffe.

Violet-green Swallow

Violet-green Swallow

The trip was quite a whirlwind as Aunt Carol’s memorial service and a memorable family/friend gathering back at her house filled out the rest of the day.  Before I knew it, it was time to wake up and hit the road back to Denver.  I woke before my two traveling companions to see what birds might be around the hotel and to enjoy the refreshing morning.

Westcliffe Inn

Birds or no birds, the Sangre de Cristo Mountains at sunrise are pretty spectacular.

Sangre de Cristo Mountains

I did see one last pair of Mountain Bluebirds.  Fitting.

Mountain Bluebird

A short walk in the neighborhood gave me my second, equally unsatisfying, lifer of the trip. In the dim morning light I glassed a bird with a white chin, rufous cap, and long tail.  It was a Green-tailed Towhee.  I was also surprised to find a White-crowned Sparrow; I didn’t know they were summer residents here.

Shortly thereafter, Karin, Jason, and I hit the road.  As we were coming through the Hardscrabble Pass of the Wet Mountains, Jason slammed on the brakes startling us all.  There was a flock of sheep on the road.  Wait, those sheep had some big, curled horns–Big Horn Sheep!!

Big Horn SheepIn all, there were 11 of them.  I was surprised at how little they were.  I suppose, though, they look much bigger when they are up on a mountain cliff.

Big Horn Sheep

Big Horn SheepThis was a very fun encounter once our hearts stopped racing.  We completed the grand slam of big game mammals on our drive by also seeing a buck Pronghorn, three cow Elk, and a couple of Mule Deer.

Once we got Karin to the airport, Jason and I had an hour-and-a-half to kill before we had to be at the airport ourselves.  Guess what is right next door to Denver International Airport? Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge!  It is a massive area and the perfect place to kill an hour.  Stopping in at the visitor’s center, I saw Say’s Phoebes and Western Kingbirds and learned the best place to find Bullock’s Orioles in a short time frame.  Additionally, the docent told us about a secret exit from the Refuge for getting back to the airport quickly.  If you want to do some birding before your flight and are crunched for time like we were, stop in the visitors’ center and ask about this exit.

Jason and I went straight for the tree-lined 7th Ave.  Most people head this way to see the resident Buffalo herd.  That’s old hat for us.  I was after a small, orange bird.  As I scanned the Cottonwoods lining the road while we cruised, Black-billed Magpies could be seen periodically.  We had seen quite a few on the trip, especially coming through Colorado Springs.  The ones at Rocky Mountain Arsenal are skilled at doing Common Nighthawk impressions.

Black-billed Magpie

In no time I spotted the orange bird I was after and redeemed my initial sighting of the Bullock’s Oriole the day before. Success.

Bullock's Oriole

Bullock's Oriole

After a little bit more exploring, Jason and I took the secret exit out of the Refuge.  And there on the exit road was a sad, symbolic reminder of the reason for our trip: a drake Mallard was standing vigil over his freshly killed mate.  I’ve never seen anything like it.

You will always be in our hearts, Aunt Carol. We will miss you!

GOOD Morning Sax-Zim Bog!

After a successful hunt for a Gyrfalcon lifer and a Boreal Chickadee photo on Sunday, I was primed for a day of different birding objectives when I woke up at the in-laws’ house in the Northwoods Monday morning. I was expecting magic–I was going to the Sax-Zim Bog.  Part of that excitement was that, when given the choice between the Bog or hanging out with Grandma for the morning, Evan chose the Bog.  Based on recent knowledge I had, I knew this could be a special day of lifering and just downright fun birdwatching for him.  Doing something science-based eased the parental guilt of pulling him out of school on this day, especially since science (and other subjects) get pushed to the margins in this era of standardized testing where math and reading reign supreme.  Forget the guilt, I felt like I was doing something good.

Getting him up that morning was tough, but the promise of McDonald’s breakfast and the morning’s main objective-seeing Sharp-tailed Grouse do their courtship dance on a lek-was enough to get him going.  We left the house under an amazing starry sky (truly, there is no better place to see the night sky) to try to get to the lek around first light.  However, the breakfast errand and my negligence in not planning extra time to get all the way to Meadowlands in the southwest corner of the Bog caused a delay in my plans.  Needless to say, I was haulin’ down Co. Rd. 7.

Still, I brake for Great Gray Owls.  Coffee is a great way to start the day, but these are even better way to get the day off on the right foot.

Great Gray Owl

Note the distinct white “mustache” which is visible even in the diminished light of dawn and dusk.

I’d love to tell you how I spotted this thing, but you deserve the truth: I saw hazard lights in the dim morning light.  That usually means one thing in the Bog. Immediately I looked in the vicinity of the stopped car and saw the giant silhouette.  Brakes were slammed. A sleeping child was woken. Game on!  I was NOT expecting to see a Great Gray this trip.  They have been very sporadically seen since early January.  Many out-of-state visitors dipped on this species this winter.   Interestingly I had seen a report of a Great Gray on Co. Rd. 7 the previous evening, so I was keeping my eyes peeled.  I’d like to think I would have spotted it on my own.  But really, who cares? These things are just fun to see–well worth delaying our Sharp-tailed Grouse plans even more.

Great Gray Owl

Call me crazy, but I prefer to watch Great Gray Owls on gray overcast days and in gloomy light.  There’s just something fitting about it that adds to the mystique of this bird.

Great Gray Owl

Great Gray Owl

Despite this good fortune, I was confounded.  How much time could I devote to watching this owl?  I had to get to the lek if I wanted to see Sharp-tailed Grouse.  Why does birding always have to be so stressful and full of decisions?!  Mr. Owl, or I should say Mr. Crow helped me out.  After 15 minutes or so of owl-watching, an American Crow flew in out of nowhere right at the Great Gray.  It was awesome to watch the owl’s defense posture, spreading out his wing and ducking his head.  But he didn’t want to be bothered any more, so he departed for the deep, gray recesses of the Tamarack bog behind him.  Evan was using my camera at the time to get good looks at the owl, so I wasn’t able to capture this. I will offer up a short video for your viewing pleasure, though.

Next stop was the lek just north and east of the intersection of Co. Rd. 29 and Racek Rd. We got there around 8:15.  Birding friend Clinton Nienhaus had told me that he had observed the grouse dancing around 7:30 last week, which was 8:30 this week thanks to Daylight Savings Time.  So we were still on time.  I found the small group of eight Sharp-tailed Grouse over a quarter mile east of the white house.  They were little brown dots in a field of snow, very far from even the camera’s view. We were able to view them a little closer from Racek Rd.

Sharp-tailed GrouseAnd they were doing their courtship dances!  It was an incredible thing to watch even from a distance.

Sharp-tailed Grouse

Sharp-tailed Grouse

This was a life bird for Evan.  It wasn’t even a state bird for me; I had seen a group of 12 or so about 18 years ago pecking grit off MN Hwy. 73 near Sturgeon.  So for me it was fun to see this bird as a birder and add it to my state eBird list.  Evan and I really enjoyed watching these grouse.  We sat together, him on my lap, watching the dances on the camera’s LCD out the driver’s side window.   We were quite content to just hang out and see what they’d do.  Under the weight of a freshly minted 8-year-old I was reminded of how quickly time passes and how kids don’t stay little long.  Sharing this moment with Evan and watching these birds is one I won’t forget.

The previous weekend my friend Steve Gardner saw these same Grouse on the same day Clinton saw them dancing on the lek.  However, Steve saw them at a later time in the morning as they were running around the yard of the white house where many people have been seeing them come to the bird feeders.  Piecing these two observations together, I knew that eventually the Grouse would head for the white house after their courtship dances.  Sure enough, around 8:45, the theatrics were over and protagonist and antagonist Grouse alike hung up their theatrical costumes, slapped backs like old friends, congratulated each other on another great performance, and headed to the bar…er, bird feeders.

Evan and I hopped onto Co. Rd. 29 for better views.  The lek is to the left of the garage and behind the row of pines about a quarter mile.

Sharp-tailed Grouse

It was a gray day, but we were still able to photo crush some Sharptails. ‘Sharptails’ is a throw-back term to when I hunted them long ago in Montana.  It’s just what people called them, and I have trouble letting go of that nickname for the cumbersome official name.

Sharp-tailed Grouse

I didn’t get many shots because something spooked the Grouse back to the lek area. Looking at this last picture I took, I’m guessing a raptor of some sort was cruising overhead.

Sharp-tailed Grouse

Like the Great Gray, these Sharptails made it easy for us to move on to something new in the Bog.  Next stop was the Admiral Road feeding station; Evan needed a Boreal Chickadee lifer, and I wanted more photos as well as a lifer Black-backed Woodpecker that had been hanging out just south of the feeders.

By the time we got to Admiral Road, the overcast sky was gone, and it was a glorious blue-sky day.  There were a couple of cars of birders at the feeders.  We watched for the Boreal Chickadees for awhile but weren’t seeing them.  So I got out and walked the road looking and listening for the Black-backed.  An Ohio birder approached me asking what I was looking for, and I learned that he hadn’t seen the Chickadees after a half hour wait. Yikes. Maybe Evan won’t get that lifer today.  Just as we were going to give up, though, the Boreals stormed the feeders!  Mr. Ohio and Evan lifered at the same time.  Evan was about 10 feet away from the feeders and didn’t need me to point out his new bird.  So stunning in the now gorgeous light!

Time to move on again.  As much as I’d like a Black-backed Woodpecker, I was more anxious to get a Hawk Owl for the winter.  I can probably get the resident Black-backed Woodpecker in the summer.  On the way to Hellwig Creek (mile marker 29) on Hwy. 53, we bumped into a Northern Shrike and three Black-billed Magpies.  How is that you can walk up to these things in a parking lot in Colorado and club them if you choose, and yet I can never get one to stay still for a photo in northern Minnesota?

Black-billed Magpie

Evan and I were now racing the clock as we went south of the Bog toward Canyon on Hwy. 53 in search of the Hellwig Hawk Owl.  Grandma was bringing Marin southbound after a morning of tea parties, nail-paintings, etc to meet us so the kids and I could leave the area before noon to get back home in time for Evan’s piano lesson.  Hawk Owls are quite conspicuous when present, often perching on top of Spruce trees.  I just could not locate it.  Maybe it had gone north already.  Nuts! I really wanted to see this owl again. This was one of my main birding goals for the trip.

Evan and I headed north again to meet up with Grandma and Marin, only we were stopped in our tracks by a Timber Wolf crossing the road!  It stopped broadside just 30 feet from the car, but I couldn’t get the camera out in time.  Instead I got a running shot as it went down the snowmobile trail.

wolf

Sadly we discovered the wolf was injured as it carried one paw.  Evan was pretty distraught over it, wanting me to call somebody even.  I assured him, perhaps incorrectly, that the wolf would be okay. (Though it did look a bit skinny.)

wolf

After rendezvousing with Grandma and Marin at the Anchor Lake Rest Area, the kids and I were now headed south.  I would be going by mile marker 29 one last time.  It was my last hope for Hawk Owl.  I texted JG Bennett and Clinton Nienhaus to get more info on which side of the highway it had been seen.  JG shot back right away that it was the west side.  At least I now had somewhere to focus.  As we went by Hellwig Creek, I scanned every Spruce top. Nothing.  Then, there! A glob in an Aspen tree of all places was moving! It was Hellwig, the Hawk Owl!!  Do you see him?  And do you see all those perfect Spruce tops he’s NOT sitting on?

Hawk Owl

This was my first time photographing a Northern Hawk Owl with a blue sky background.  Now if only I could get the classic shot on top of a Spruce with a blue sky!

Northern Hawk Owl

This Hawk Owl didn’t care about anything, especially that I was underneath photographing him.  Didn’t bother him one bit.  In fact, he went about his business of becoming the cleanest Hawk Owl in the land.  These things remind me of cats.

First the feet.

Northern Hawk Owl

Then the pits.

Northern Hawk Owl

And then the uh, you know.

Northern Hawk Owl

Hawk Owls, like many owls, are birds of many faces and poses.

Here’s Mr. Bean.

Northern Hawk Owl

Here’s Oscar the Grouch

Northern Hawk Owl

And finally the classic look is its namesake, a bird that looks like an owl but perches like a hawk.

Northern Hawk Owl

Here’s another short video that captures some of the essence of this awesome owl.

So there you have it. Two lifers for Evan (Boreal Chickadee and Sharp-tailed Grouse), four birding objectives of mine met (lifer Gyrfalcon, photograph of Boreal Chickadee, eBird record of Sharp-tailed Grouse, and year bird Northern Hawk Owl), and sprinkle in a bonus Great Gray Owl and other cool northern birds for taste–I’d say it was a successful end-of-winter field trip up north.  And we were home around the time that Evan would have gotten done with school for the day.The northern gulls, sea ducks, and Black-backed Woodpecker will have to wait for another winter trip.  For now, though I must tie up some loose ends and prepare for a lifer-fest in Arizona in a couple weeks.

Sax-Zimmin’ with Dad and Grousin’ with Evan

IMG_0920Last week we enjoyed an extra-long weekend due to fall break, so we made the 265-mile trek home to northern Minnesota to visit our families and enjoy the beautiful northwoods. Going up north is always a delight, but doing so in the fall is special treat.  The stunning colors, the perfect temps, and the sweet smell of decaying Aspen leaves all remind us of this great land in which my wife and I grew up.  Let’s not forget the birds, though.  Northern Minnesota has its own species of interest that are not found in most of the state or the country for that matter. To that end, I had been coveting some recent pictures in my Facebook feed of Great Gray Owls in Tamarack trees in the Sax-Zim Bog.  The Bog is only 45 minutes south of my parents’ place, so I usually try to hit it up each time I go home.

Since Great Grays are crepuscular, the best times to see them are in the hour of first light and the hour of last light. We arrived at Mom and Dad’s in the early afternoon, but after a couple hours of visiting, Dad and I were headed south to try to find a Great Gray before dark. I never get tired of seeing this owl and the possibility of seeing them in the golden yellow Tamaracks was very appealing.  Tamaracks are a conifer found in boggy land, and their needles are green in the summer, turn gold in the fall, and then drop like the leaves of deciduous trees.  They are as fascinating as they are beautiful, especially when their fallen needles transform gravel roads to streets of gold.

Dad and I trolled up and down McDavitt Road several times at 5 MPH, scanning every snag and every possible perch for the Great Gray Ghost. This was the road where they’d been seen within the last week, so it was where we concentrated our search.  I was hoping to see an owl, get my desired shots, and then take some scenery shots to show off the yellow landscape of the Tamaracks interspersed with the vivid green of the Black Spruce. But, every possible second of remaining daylight was given to the search, and we were coming up empty.  I did stop to take a picture of a porcupine snoozing in a Tamarack.  Whether he’s lazy or relaxed, I just couldn’t resist the photo-op.

porcupine

porcupine

I’m afraid the porcupine was the only interesting thing we’d see in the Bog.  There were hardly any birds around, let alone any interesting species.  The next morning I continued my owl hunt closer to home as they have been found within 5 miles of my folks’.  I have yet to see one so close, but I’m determined! That determination will have to carry me forward because my luck was no different on this outing.  The birding was better than in the Sax-Zim Bog, though, as I found some Gray Jays and a couple of Ruffed Grouse.  The skittish grouse bolted when I popped up through the sunroof for a picture.

Speaking of grouse, my previous fall breaks in the northwoods used to be consumed with me pursuing Ruffed Grouse with a shotgun.  On the surface it may seem a bit of a contradiction that I’m a birder who hunts.  However, it is that interest in nature and wildlife that comes with hunting that helped propel me into this obsessive birding habit. Though I still hunt on a limited basis (just Ruffed Grouse and Ring-necked Pheasants), it is is not as interesting to me as birding, where I can experience the thrill of the hunt and the beauty of nature without the restrictions of seasons, state lines, and bag limits.  The thrill of locking eyes with a Great Gray is much more appealing. Maybe I’m just growing up.  When I saw the two grouse I wasn’t even interested in grabbing my gun out of the back of the car.

Despite my shift into birding, I still have a young boy and old dog who very much would like to chase some game.  So one morning I took Evan and my Yellow-Lab, Faith, on a short walk on my parents’ 80 acres.  Faith led the way with a vigor that belied her age (she lives for this), and Evan was several paces behind me.  We were hunting on trails in an area with young Aspens (about 10-15 years old).  It is perfect habitat that produces grouse every year.  This year was no exception as all of us, dog included, were startled by the pounding wings of our first grouse.  Though it was close, none of us saw it because of how thick the woods were.  That’s how it often goes.  We soldiered on and hiked on a trail carpeted in clover, a favorite food of the Ruffed Grouse.  The surrounding woods here were young Aspen trees 4-5 feet high growing up and around the stumps and logs of the mature Aspen stand the was here just a couple years ago.  Going off trail would be an impossible task.  Anyhow, when I paused at a bend along the trail, there was an explosion of wings to my left from the thick young trees and tangle of downed logs. Two grouse rocketed out.  I could only see one and only for a split second because of the surrounding trees and brush.  I fired a couple of times but missed.  It didn’t bug me.  As Faith was now investigating the scent of these birds (she was a little late) and I was contemplating the miss, a third grouse got up from the same spot!  Again, I only saw it briefly and fired the last shell I had in my gun.  No luck.  Ruffed Grouse are probably the most difficult game bird to hit on the fly because they live in the woods where your chances of hitting them are not as good as hitting the branches and trees they fly through.  To emphasize this point, a couple of colleagues recently returned from a grouse-hunting trip, and they had 55 flushes but only 3 kills.  I was not sad over the misses.  Evan got to see some grouse flush and watch me shoot.  He was happy.  Faith was doing what she was made for.  She was happy.  I didn’t have any birds to clean and eat.  I was happy.  Plus it was really special to see three grouse together; they are normally found as singles.

My birding pursuits continued Up North.  Dad and I made a dawn raid on the Sax-Zim Bog one of the mornings, arriving there just as you could make out the silhouettes of the trees. The best we could muster were some Gray Jays in low light.  All was well – birding the Bog with Dad is a great excuse to visit and drink some coffee.  Seeing owls is just a bonus.

Gray Jay

Gray Jays and Ruffed Grouse are some nice northern Minnesota birds, but I had a great find while I was out driving on my own one afternoon.  I had seen a couple of birds fly and thought they were ducks.  The habitat wasn’t right though since there wasn’t any water around.  I drove that way and was startled to see Black-billed Magpies!! I found four in all, and one even came out to the road to pick at something.

Black-billed MagpieI remember when I first got into birding and being shocked that this cool bird could be found in Minnesota since I had never seen one in my life up to that point.  They are known to frequent the Sax-Zim Bog. In fact, the Bog is the furthest location to the east where this species breeds.  I have seen them in the Bog and in northwestern Minnesota, but I was astounded to find them so close to where I grew up.  It was hands-down the best find of the trip.

I had better bog-birding outside of Sax-Zim on this trip.  Perhaps the only thing the Bog has on the birding scene around my parents’ place is the number of birders scouring it. Given the recent finds though, I might have to keep up the lone-rangering.  When I finally find a Great Gray on my parents’ road, it will be all the more sweeter because it’s close to home far from where birders trod.  The hunt will resume at Thanksgiving, and I can’t wait.

Birding Colorado Springs – Blodgett Peak Open Space and Garden of the Gods

After our brief visit to the Badlands and Black Hills, we were headed south to the Colorado Springs area where we were going to meet up with two of my cousins that I hadn’t seen in years. The fastest way to the Springs was to shoot down through Nebraska, but common sense prevailed and we opted for a slightly longer route that would take us down through Wyoming. We were in the west after all; we might as well see some of it and tally a new state for the kids.

The beauty of the Black Hills and the Oglala National Grasslands in western South Dakota continued to amaze us.  And the birds were pretty great too.  At one point, three Black-billed Magpies flew across the road.  Good birds but nothing new.  Lark Buntings continued their ubiquity along the fencelines of Oglala.  I also spied a Common Nighthawk perched on a fence post.  I almost hit the brakes for that photo op, but I couldn’t risk being late in the Springs, and one must limit the number of birding emergency stops for fear of making the non-birding family members weary.

Instead I spent one of my limited emergency birding stops on this guy – the Ferruginous Hawk!!  A spendid and thrilling life bird indeed, a birder’s hawk for sure.

Ferruginous Hawk

Ferruginous Hawk

There were more raptors perched on poles, but we were in a hurry and couldn’t afford to stop anymore even if I did need to find a Swainson’s Hawk for Evan and for my photo collection.  After all, there were relatives to catch up with, good barbecue to eat, and lizards to catch.

Evan lizardEvan’s cousin Andrew showed him the ropes for catching these cool lizards, and Evan caught this one all on his own.  As someone who had cages full of lizards as a kid, I wanted to keep this one in the worst way.  Even Melissa said it was cute. If Evan had asked, I couldn’t say no.  But he didn’t ask, so there was no moral dilemma of the lizard variety.

As Evan played with lizards, I checked out the birds hanging around my cousin’s house. I saw many of our species from back home, but we did pick up the Broad-tailed Hummingbird which would become probably the most common bird of the trip.  Its metallic buzzing could be heard almost everywhere we went.  Otherwise, Mountain Bluebirds, which would also become quite common, were still captivating at this point.

Female Mountain Bluebird

Female Mountain Bluebird

Male Mountain Bluebird

Male Mountain Bluebird

As fun as it was to hang out with my relatives, all good things must come to an end as they say.  So we grabbed a hotel room in town before our journey into the mountains of south-central Colorado near Westcliffe. As I had done in Hot Springs, I was up that next morning before first light so I could do some solo birding before everyone was awake. eBird was again very helpful in finding me a birding locale within a short drive from our hotel. I went up the side of the mountain on the very western edge of the Springs where I birded Blodgett Peak Open Space.  This big fella was there to greet me.

Mule Deer Buck

Mule Deer Buck

Once again the first bird to greet me of the morning was the Spotted Towhee.  I was hoping for better photo ops, but the day was too young and not very accommodating with its early-morning light.  It’s too bad because this bird was everywhere and close.  I really wanted that killer photo to solidify my first sighting back home in Minnesota last April.  But it wasn’t to be.  Not yet anyway.

One of the first lifers I heard that morning but took awhile to see was the Mountain Chickadee.  The song I was hearing was definitely chickadee in origin, but definitely different from our Black-capped variety back home.  Eventually, though, I was able to lay eyes on this spastic seed-eater.  This was a hoped-for lifer of the trip.

Mountain Chickadee

Mountain Chickadee

Mountain ChickadeeFrom reading the eBird reports I was expecting to find Western Scrub Jays.  It took me awhile, but I found a couple of this life bird.

Western Scrub Jay

Western Scrub Jay

On my quiet walk with no other people around I also found a lifer Virginia’s Warbler.  In typical warbler fashion, it wasn’t posing for any photos, and I just wasn’t up for chasing down a good photo of a bland bird.

Virginia's Warbler

Virginia’s Warbler

Walking in the mountains is always a good way to start the day, even more so when you tally three life birds in the process.

Getting back to the hotel I was greeted by one of the literal trash birds of the west, the Black-billed Magpie.  It’s such a shame that such a good-looking bird lowers its standards to the likes of gulls and jays by eating things one can only find in parking lots and such. There must have been a dozen hopping through the parking lot, standing on dumpsters, walking the rooflines of the hotel, and disappearing into the pines across the street.  It was fun to actually photograph them up close and in good light – something I have not been able to do in the Sax-Zim Bog.  I had never really seen the blue tint on them before, and I also discovered that their eyes are blue too!

Black-billed Magpie

Black-billed Magpie

Black-billed Magpie

After enjoying the magpies and getting the family assembled, we headed to Garden of the Gods.  We visited this National Natural Landmark five years ago, but with its other-worldly rock outcroppings it is a must-see each visit.

Central Garden at Garden of the Gods

Central Garden at Garden of the Gods

If you can look past the artificial hand-holding, you can see that the natural beauty abounds.IMG_0129

And the birds are beautiful here too as this brazen and audacious Western Scrub Jay shows while he prowled the parking lot for picnic leftovers or eyeballs of tourists napping in chairs.  It was good that Evan got to tally this lifer too since I had got mine earlier that morning.

Evan's Western Scrub Jay lifer

Evan’s Western Scrub Jay lifer

Melissa spied this Violet-green Swallow perched conspicuously on a snag.  It was fun to see its true colors as its namesake implies.

Violet-green Swallow

Violet-green Swallow

While Evan tried to climb rocks,

Evan

I tried to photograph missiles with wings, known as White-throated Swifts.

White-throated Swift (if you squint)

White-throated Swift (if you squint)

Neither of us were very good.  But we both had fun trying.

At one point I heard a Spotted Towhee singing its song.  I was still on the hunt for a good photo of this bird.  I dragged the family to the spot, and we all looked unsuccessfully.  Finally I decided to pull the plug.  Then Evan cried out, “But Dad, I’ve never seen one!”  I completely forgot he needed this lifer!  I never was able to get him on the bird in our own county, so apparently it had been gnawing at him that I had this bird and he didn’t.  Alright, so now it was more than just getting a photo; it was a genuine life bird hunt.

We still couldn’t see this particular bird we were looking for, but it didn’t matter because we eventually heard another one singing his heart out from the top of a juniper.  Evan got his lifer. I got my photo. Whew.  It felt doubly good.  I could finally put that great sighting from back in April to rest.  And so could Evan. Little did I know that the Spotted Towhee would be obscenely common for the rest of our trip.

Spotted Towhee

Spotted Towhee

Spotted Towhee

Colorado Springs held a nice cache of life birds (and relatives) for us.  After Garden of the Gods, we were headed up to the mountains in Custer County.  Coming up will be perhaps the best birding we would experience the whole trip.