Saturday, March 28, 2015

Keys to my heart

Let me just preface this post by saying it is going to be long and contradictory of most of the things I've said so far, basically it's a wrap up of the florida experience, and frankly I don't give a shit. 

The idea to run down to Florida was spurred on by a couple of different thoughts: Key West quail doves, bananaquit, black-faced Grassquit etc etc. Let's also not forget that I wanted to get the hell out of as much winter weather as I possibly could. It seemed like a solid plan. Spend two weeks in Florida chasing down all kinds of birds and adding to my year list with all of the crazy birds that are in the Miami area. But then again this is Florida. Every ridiculous, crazy, completely stupid story that you hear on the news come straight out of Florida. Maybe it has something to do with the sun. Maybe it has something to do with all the water. Maybe it just has something to do with the air.  But whatever it is, Florida does something to people. It did it to me when I lived there and it did it to me again on this trip.  

The trip started up just like any other. I hit the ground running, grab a rental car and gun it out to Snake Road in search of smooth-billed ani. I arrived there with about an hour of daylight left which has been the best time for viewing. I searched the half-mile section of road where the bird has been frequently seen with no luck. I would not get back to this location until the following week so I waited until it was completely dark before I left.  No joy. I then drove a couple of hours south to get myself into position for the next morning's chase. Key Largo was as close as I could get because apparently everyone in the world seems to have the same idea: head to the keys because winter blows. Not really an issue, I would be up early and head out to Bahia Honda State Park. 

I took the leisurely drive down to the park because it doesn't open until 8 AM.  Magnificent frigatebirds sailed overhead. White Ibis were on every street corner. Common Myna filled the wires in noisy flocks and groups of parrots flashed by. The hotels and storefronts gave way to mangroves and turquoise water. Pelicans and laughing gulls perched on bridges and dock pilings. The warmth of the sun and the smell of the sea was enough to momentarily forget the real reason I was there. 

Upon arrival Bahia was already crowded with birders. I'll save you the details of the day spent looking for a bananaquit that apparently had had enough of the area the day before and left. And the black-faced grassquit that landed on the ground below my feet as I stood on the deck of a bathroom was less than exhilarating. Almost too easy and not very scenic. As the sun was setting I drove down to Marathon to check into the condo I had rented for the next couple of nights. And there it was again.  That pull from the water or the air that made me feel less stressed and the sense of urgency faded away as the sun sank into the water. 

The hotel bar attached to the condos had happy hour beers and .25 cent shrimp which also helped.  Sounded like as a good a dinner as anything else. The place was packed with sun soaked vacationers with the usual "where Ya from?" and "how long Ya staying" questions for a guy traveling alone.  Pleasantries are exchanged and rounds are bought. A good time is had by all as the crowd begins to thin out and there are just a few of us left. The moon is rising over the water and no one really wants to leave. I should be exhausted and ready for bed after looking for a tiny ass bird all day and looking through every limb of every tree but I'm not ready to let the day go. A conversation starts with myself and the bartenders and eventually the two residents who are still tipping back beers that get warm too fast in the evening heat. In a few minutes were are the best of friends and exchanging life stories of triumph and failure. Not one of them born and raised in Florida, just transplants from an unhappy life elsewhere into paradise. The allure of it all is almost overwhelming. There are moments I'm ready to throw caution to the wind and just stay in Florida and live on the beach and find my own damn bananaquit.  We drink for a few more hours on the pier telling stories surrounded by stars and the moon reflecting on black water. By the time I say good night it's almost 3 am and I don't care. Long Key State Park doesn't open until 8. 
      I don't get there until 11. 

Again the details of the hunt for Key West Quail Dove will be omitted. I basically walked up and down the same trail all day long listening for the scratching of leaves or the slightest movement of a bird in the understory. Barely any birds are seen at all. 
Boring.
  I almost took the time to spell it out with sticks in the dirt but decided I might piss off yet another bird nerd in the process. After 6 hours of looking,  some random guy comes walking up and says "I just had the bird down there" pointing down trail again. 
Son. Of. A. Bitch. 
Within minutes I have one bird and a group of eight or so weary birders join me. Then another bird is located so we know there are at least two. It's one of those moments of relief that is followed by joy, that is followed by "shit, happy hour, gotta go". 

Again there's a night of celebration. My new friends can't seem to grasp this whole idea of looking for birds in far-flung places but they're all happy for me and continue to buy rounds. I finally meet a local and he and I sit and talk about our lives at great length. He's a free spirit, a rolling stone some may say, but his heart is in the right place and his head is on straight. I find myself envious of his life in a way, he has always lived in Florida and loves it. His family is there and he wouldn't have it any other way. I understand that feeling better than most, but I also feel the pull of the tide on my senses. There is one thing I know for sure at that very moment, I will spend the rest of my winters near a white beach of sand, not snow. 
Because I have managed to reach my goals in the keys in record time, which I was not expecting, I decided to drive down to Key West the next morning. It's warm and sunny. It's packed with people. There aren't very many birds around and I don't care. I meet more people and have more fun as I begin to realize that maybe it's time I actually did have a vacation....just to relax and soak up the sun for a few days. Lay by a pool. Walk on the beach without getting a tan line from binoculars.  Maybe I can do this after all. 
Well the next few days are a bit of a blur. I drive around aimlessly. I take more pictures of the water and landscapes than I may have ever done before. I see a few new year birds: brown thrasher. Barn swallow, yellow-breasted chat and prairie warbler which aren't all that unusual.  I make it back for happy hour with my new friends and meet more each night. A family from New Jersey puts a smile on my face as I play Giant Jenga with the oldest son and I have far to many beers.  I decide to extend my stay at the condo an additional three days basically because that's how long the place was available for and I didn't want to leave. A fellow Ohioan in the Keys is ironic and yet comforting and we talk for hours.  And I just can't seem to pull myself away from this place. I explore the Keys by day ticking a few more birds, looking at vacant property and for sale signs and spend the evenings at the resort thinking about them. 
 My last day is almost bittersweet. I don't want to leave this place. My trip isn't over but there's a special place in my heart for this place and these people. 
So on my final day off to the mainland I went. It took a long time to leave the Keys mainly because I didn't want to go. I stopped at each key to again look at places for rent and for sale. I fear there is no way to un-ring that bell. By mid afternoon I was Headed into the Everglades and I drove down to  Flamingo making lots of stops.  

Swallow tailed kites floated above. Herons and spoonbills waded in the ponds and palm warblers were everywhere. I spent a few hours exploring before I decided to head towards Miami for the night. 
I used the Orbitz app on my phone to book a hotel for the night without paying much attention to where it was until I popped the address into the GPS and realized it was in South Beach. 
Shit. 
I rolled in around 8pm to streets crowded with people and cars and music blaring. Not my usual accommodations at all. I struggled to find parking and finally got checked into the Art Deco period resort and was surprised at how relaxed I felt even with all the hustle and bustle and poor customer service around me. 


I walked down the road to an open air bar and had a bucket of beer and a grouper dinner while sitting at the outdoor restaurant people watching. I met a guy from LA who had been traveling abroad and exchanged stories and again tried to explain this "bird thing". There really is no way to make it not sound crazy or to make it sound cool but he humored me and decided that tomorrow he would join me searching for parrots and odd ducks.  
We didn't get the earliest start but we did manage to see some birds. We ended up looking for snail kites and Limpkin in the glades again with success. It's always interesting to bird with someone who doesn't know anything about birds. They always seem to spot the ones you're looking for and it makes for a fun day. We had a good time and I decided to just hang out at the beach and pool the next day. And then the next day. I was finding it harder and harder to think about going home. I didn't want to leave. 
Then I met up with a friend from home to try again for the damn Ani as well as a local couple who bird the area extensively. No luck on ani. But it was worth a shot and it was a fun time. 
The last few days were more of the same. Sun and sand and beaches and drinks. Meeting more people was definitely the highlight.
An amazing woman from New York and a couple of fantastic gals from Georgia that I hope to meet up with again someday. 
So what's the point of blogging about these two weeks when there really weren't many bird sightings, except those couple of code 4 birds? I guess the point is that I learned some things on this trip that I don't want to forget. I met some people on this trip that don't want to forget either. I realized that it is most likely my destiny to end up in Florida someday. I learned that I guess I can just relax and vacation like normal people do but that I could also make a life down there where the air and the water cleanse and refresh the mind and soul. 
To Don, Ben, Nick, Ruani, Paul, Cici, Joelle, Kyle and Craig thanks for an amazing time if you ever read this. I won't soon forget the good times. 
As you can tell it has taken me a fair amount of time to submit this entry. I started and restarted multiple times. Being home has been lackluster to say the least. I have had a hard time putting things into words. And I just haven't felt like it. I haven't even finished adding Florida checklists. 
 I've added a few more birds at home: wood duck, woodcock, rusty blackbird, winter wren and those beautiful BoWax (thanks Andy).
Yet I can't shake the depression, for lack of a better word, of coming back to a gray, cold Ohio. For the first time in a very long time I wish I didn't live here, but for the moment I do and I'll
make the best of it. Migration is on its way and so are the birds. Ohio is a pretty special place for the birds during migration and I wouldn't miss it. But I will be in Texas again before that happens with a trip in mid April. And if a few birds hang around a little I may even make a quick run to the northwest of the country again. Only time will tell....







Thursday, February 26, 2015

Hooked

  I'll save the details on the long drive. It was a long drive. Exhausting actually. I don't think I could have picked a worse time to quit smoking but I'm sure the rental car company thanks me for it anyway. I'll also save the details on the next morning where for the first time in a week it was cold (45 degrees) in the morning and gray and overcast. It also was the first day in six days that the hook-billed kites didn't do their daily flyover. I was there from 7 am until 1pm with no luck. Then over to Laguna Atascosa for the rare chance of seeing a blue bunting that had recently been seen in a restricted area. It's a nice place. There are a lot of birds but not the one I had hoped for. We had one more day before we were flying home so that meant one more morning to try for kites. 

Standing on the dike at Bentson at 7 am it was a completely different story from  the day before. Not a cloud in the sky and and much warmer. I again separated from the group after talking with a bunch of people. I find that groups of people do a lot of talking compared to actually birding so I tend to go it alone. But I did meet a nice guy from Arizina who I plan to contact on my next trip out there since he lives in a great area for birds. 
After a little while a fellow Ohian joined us and we chatted a bit about the area and birds. Rick is a great birder and is lucky to spend the winter in such a beautiful place. 
We spent the next hour and a half watching different species of Hawks flying over with both types of vultures. Just after 11 we got on a bird that was a fair bit farther down the dike beginning to kettle with vultures. Without a doubt hook-billed kite. Then a pair of them. A dark male and a light female. We watched them through the scope and then they did the almost unthinkable. They actually flew closer. Overhead. Affording excellent looks. Including the hooked bill. It was a fantastic way to close out the trip. I had decided I was going to leave at noon to head back to Dallas with or without the kite. I left early and very happy. 

The long drive to Dallas was time rehash the birds and the scenery and the laughs. Lots of laughs.  It wa a great trip and I didn't want to go home but duty calls. And it won't be long before I hit the road again. The winter at home is brutal and there aren't any new birds in the state for me so I might as well go somewhere that has new birds. And sunshine. 

Return to the nightmare...dream come true

We again left early, and as a matter of fact I'm not even going to mention that anymore. I always leave early. On the off chance I sleep in I'll let you know. 
We rolled back into Texas welcomed by ferruginous Hawks and  lark buntings to again look for cranes. Finding cranes was easy. Abundantly easy.  We went back to the same spot where we were the other day. Thousands of cranes were these. Mind boggling numbers to sort through and they were a little jumpy. At times the sky was full of them calling and flying and coming and going. It was almost an exercise in futility to even scan through the birds. I would get through part of the flock and they would shuffle again. After about an hour they settled down and began to tuck their heads to rest. Oh hell no.  

I am looking for a single bird that I am only going to find if I can see their heads. I decide to take a few steps closer. The part I got the less I had to deal with heat shimmer and that was also a bonus. Ten to 15 feet at a time I edged closer. I got about 75' closer that I had been when the birds began to get a little nervous. I didn't want to flush them again I just wanted them alert. Well my plan worked. Every bird on the ground stood tall and alert. Every bird was facing left. I scanned through once and on the return pan I saw what I was looking for. The dark face and neck that stood a little taller than the 15000 other birds. It was one of those moment where you're not quite sure if it's real if if you're imagining it after looking for so long at the same type of bird. But there it was. Plain as day. So easy to spot it made me wonder how I could have spent 8 hours the other day looking and not finding and another hour and change this morning looking again. But there it was. Photos weren't easy, but I managed a few. 

Can you find the Common Crane? 

The adrenaline definitely invigorated me and I was ready to bird hard out last few days. 
It was decision time again. It was 12:30pm.  Where to go. What to go for. What To Do. Well it wasn't that hard of a decision to make. Hook-billed kites had been seen with some regularity the last week at Bentson back in the valley. It was an easy decision. A 550 mile decision. A 9 hours drive decision. Easy. Bentson here we come. 

Sandia part II

After driving as far from chicken death land as I could we got up and drive back to Sandia Crest to try again. This was a much better day. The sun was shining and it was going to be 70 degrees that day. We rolled into the crest house parking lot around 11:30 and went in to find 20 other birders awaiting the birds. It's true that there really is no doubt when you see other birders that they can be spotted a mile away. A sea of khaki clothing, big hats, North Face, Patagonia and Marmot wear mixed with Columbia and Under Armor, every size, brand, weight and design of binoculars and loads of camera equipment. And of course we sort of fit in. They had been waiting since the building opened for the stars to show but so far only mountain chickadees, red-breasted nuthatches and Stellar's jays were visable. A red-tailed hawk and a sharp-shinned hawk floated on the updrafts over the feeder area in the cloudless blue sky. 
An interior white-breasted nuthatch put in an appearance while we had lunch from the cafe. After about an hour the leader of the tour group that was monopolizing the cafe says "here they come" like one of the alien attack movies with an urgency in his voice that induced a ripple of panic from the group. They all shifter and jockeyed for a closer section of window which apparently makes the birds uncomfortable and the flock flew in and out almost immediately. They did however make multiple passes at the window. Black rosy-finch was easy to spot but the other two were not as easy. Finally after another 20 minutes of near misses and a lovely young couple taking selfies on the deck the birds came in. Gray-crowned and Brown-capped along with the Black rosy-finches all made an appearance. Gasps, camera shutters galore, muffled cries of jubilation and a lot of shifting and swishing fabric was enough for me. Time to move on. 
We explored the different areas down the mountain but few birds were seen. But many picnicking families enjoyed the day playing in the small areas of remaining snow in the 50 degree weather on the mountain.  
Along a few more residential roads we tracked down pinyon jays, Townsend Solitaite, Cassin's finches, scrub jays, and doves. We spent the remainder of the day just cruising around and making our way east again finally stopping in Santa Rosa for the night. Sleep came easy and morning comes quick on this trip.   

Valentine's Day Love

 We spent the morning birding Santa Rita lodge and Madera Canyon before bidding it farewell for this trip. I always had to leave but I know that I will go back a few times this year.  While enjoying all of the birds at the feeder's we added hepatic Tanager and olive warbler to the year list somewhat unexpectedly. 
We headed north in the midday sun toward Phoenix. We stopped for gas and while the tank was filling I looked up recent sightings nearby. There was one bird in particular that this populated seemed to have quite a few of and it would be a life bird if I could find one. We drive around the city parks and streets listening and looking for signs of the birds. It wasn't long before we saw a small green bird with a bright blue tail fly into a large palm. We parked and checked the tree but could not find a bird  in the 30 foot tall tree. Then the bird dove out of the backside and plummeted down into the adjacent neighborhood and disappeared behind some roofs. I drive down the street in this modest neighborhood and found a house with a feeder out front that was mobbed with our target. Rosy-faced Lovebirds were feeding and calling right in front of the homeowner who was relaxing in a chair on her porch. I asked if I could take a few pictures of her birds and she laughed and said of course.  


For many reasons I hate residential birding. Slowly driving around a neighborhood or God forbid walking around with binoculars in front of people's houses always makes me feel like I'm doing something very wrong but the nice lady here had no problem with it at all. In fact she was happy to share her love of the birds. Definitely fun to find love birds on Valentine's Day and always fun to add a life bird. 
The decision for our next stop was easy at the time. We would go to the intersection of Baseline Road and Salome Highway to look for thrasher. Bendire's, Le Conte's and Crissal thrashers are all found regularly in this general area in the mornings. Well we wouldn't arrive until 4:39 in the afternoon making it more difficult. It's a vast, wide open area of dessert scrub habitat that these birds love. Apparently it is fine to just park and walk around this area wherever you please. For anyone who has never been there a few words of warning, for those of you that have been there shame on you for not warning the rest of us idiots.  First, when walking around watch your step. The ground is riddled with burrows that collapse underfoot if you hit them just right. This could easily lead to a twisted ankle out there in the dust. But the second, and drastically more important thing that everyone should know going in is that this place, if the wind is coming from the southeast, smells like utter, undeniable , complete and total death. Well shit to be more exact.  Chicken shit. There is a chicken "farm" just down the road and the smell of one of these places is enough to endure vomiting without warning, your eyes to water, your lungs to collapse and possibly a total blackout. Not to mention whatever lasting effects it may have. Add that to the broken ankle from tripping in a boobytrap hole while running from the stench and I can imagine this would make many folks not want to return.  It worked for me. I was done and had no desire to return the following morning. Or ever for that matter. But I will most likely try this one more time but never when the wind is from the south. To anyone who goes in the future:  You have been warned.   
Not a great way to end the day for sure. But Bendire's thrasher was new for the year so all wasn't lost. And the lovebirds definitely saved the day anyway. 

From lakes to canyons and everywhere in between

We got an early start and headed to Pena Blanca lake where the sun was shining and the wind had calmed down. It was a beautiful morning to bird this scenic and secluded area. A few fisherman were already at the lake when we arrived and started our hike down to the waters edge. We followed the trial around the lake to the far corner cove and started searching the cattails for our next target. Rufous-capped Warbler. Within a few minutes the bird vocalized and started moving through the reeds. Glimpses were had until the little guy came out into the open in the reeds on the far side of the cove. 

Satisfied with finding this bird so quickly we decided to bird the area a bit and added a few new year birds. Red-naped sapsucker, Brewers sparrow and a few violet-green swallows overhead. We enjoyed the area but knew we still had places to go and birds to see. 
We arrived at the Florida Canyon parking area at the end of the road mid morning after slowly driving up and birding the whole way. Rufous-winged and black-throated sparrows were around and phainopepla were everywhere. As soon as we parked I heard the call of the black-capped gnatcatcher we were looking for. We saw two of them working the scrub and watched them for about 5 minutes before the moved deeper out of sight but were able to get a few other birders on them for great looks by all. 
We then hiked up the trail to see any other birds that were around. It was a beautiful day and birds were calling and some singing from the hillsides but all were making it difficult to see them except a Hutton's vireo and Hammond's flycatcher.  
As we were hiking back down and almost to the parking area we hear the distinctive call of an Elegant Trogon from up the canyon. We hiked back up to ask the other birders if they had heard it or if they had played a call. At the time they were standing next to a cascade of water over the rocks so they couldn't hear much. We walked a little farther up and looked everywhere and listened carefully but did not hear the bird again. Wen though there is no doubt that it was an elegant trogon calling I am not adding it to my year list yet. This is a beautiful bird that I want to see again and I will be back in Arizona for a few more opportunities on future trips. For now I'll let it go. 
Next we birded Madera Canyon, by far one of my favorite birding areas that I have ever visited. The feeding stations at the Santa Rita and Kubo lodges are spectacular for Arizona birds as well as being one of the most relaxing places to see them. Magnificent hummingbirds were using the feeders, Arizona woodpeckers, a Townsend's warbler, bridled titmouse, Mexican jays, lesser goldfinches and pine siskins, wild turkeys, ladder-back woodpeckers and yellow-eyes juncos actively can into the feeders as 20+ birders watched and enjoyed them. I inquired at the gift shop at Santa Rita about staying there and it turned out there was one room available for the evening. With the gem show in Tucson the lodge actually was a cost saving place to stay.
 We ran back down to Green Valley to grab some food and decided to make our way slowly back up the canyon as the sun set. Birds were everywhere and Gambel's quail were new for the year. We reached the end of the road and parked for a few minutes to listen for owls. We barely had stepped out of the car and a whiskered screech owl was calling not far away. On the way back down a northern-Pygmy owl was calling at the amphitheater area. Another reason I love this area.  We got settled in and enjoyed the suite at the lodge for the evening. 

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Sandia in the snow

So we decided to head Sandia Crest to try for the rosy-finches next. When we woke up it was 45 degrees and partly cloudy but it looked like a decent day. But the closer we got to the mountains it began to look a bit more bleak.  
At the turn off to head up to the crest snow was lightly falling and the evergreens and bare trees had that beautiful look of freshly fallen snow. By the time we made it up to the ski area 6" of snow covered the road and there was only a single set of tire tracks to follow ahead of us. By the time we reached the 10,009 foot pull offs the world was covered in more than a soft blanket of snow. There was at least a foot of that white shit on the road and the wind was howling and drifting it even higher in some places. By the time we reached the Crest House it was near white out conditions and not another soul in sight. 
I couldn't imagine the building opening up for business in the next 31 minutes so we decided to wait it out at the ski area parking in hopes that the dedicated employees would soon be making their way up. 30 minutes.  60 minutes. 90 minutes passed. No one was coming.  We were on our own. Right about the time I was bitching and saying lets go 3 cars gunned past us up the hill. I decided to wait a little while longer before Following them up in case they decided to come back down. I gave them another 30 minutes before heading back up the road. All was good until we reached the 10,000 foot parking area again. There they were. All three cars. Parked and getting covered in snow while their occupants were off cross country skiing and hiking. Morons. I like a bigger moron thought I'd give the top just one more try. The snow was even deeper now. The tire tracks we had followed before had long been covered and the snow continued to pile up. I got to the top lot, parked and decided to walk out to the overlook to look down at the feeder area just in case any stray birds or finches were waiting for breakfast. Not one. I was the lone idiot standing in 30mph winds and snow looking for any signs of life. The drifts were hip high and with this I knew it was over. No one was coming today. And I was leaving. 
Down we went again. And this time we didn't stop until we reached the gas station at the base. A dusting of snow down here. How pleasant. I punched up directions to Benson, AZ and we left the winter wonderland behind.  Gladly. 
 Six hours and change later we were in Arizona. 54 degree and the sun was setting. We would stop for the night here since I realized that there was a gem and precious rock show in Tucson that meant every hotel for 70 miles was either booked or completely overpriced. 
Somehow this place we had stopped was in a general good location if we were going to go to Fort Huachuca or Sierra Vista, not so great for Madera or Florida canyons but it would do because realistically what is an hours drive at this point? 
We arrived at Patagonia Sonoita Preserve just before it opened. It was warming up but windy and there were supposed to be pretty heavy winds at times this day. Not my favorite birding conditions but there was a mission. We headed to the staked out hackberry trees looking for 2 American Robins and a wayward Rufous-backed Robin that had been feeding in the area for weeks. 
We spent a few hours wandering the area without seeing either bird. When I was beginning to think it was time to move on another birder said he had just seen a few robins up the trail. We headed that direction and watched the 2 Americans feed in the wind sheltered area for a while hoping their friend would stop by to say hello. After about another hour and 30 degrees warmer we were just getting ready to go when there it was. Sitting silently in the tangled branches was the Rufous-backed robin. We called over a few other birders that were within earshot to share this beautiful bird and taking a few photos. It had definitely been worth the wait. A life bird as well as a year bird. 


We then headed to a few other areas but the high winds were making it difficult to find a lot of birds so we decided to head over to Tubac to try the trail for Sinaloa Wren. Again there were not a lot of birds actively moving around but we found the area where te wren has built a nest and has been seen most reliably. After an hour is looking around and seeing Bewick's wrens I heard the fast rattle call of the bird and located it moving through a scrubby brush like area. The bird only came out into the open a few times and for the briefest moments but all of the relevant field marks were observed and the bird did vocalize one additional time. 
We headed to local italian restaurant for dinner where we were disappointed in the subpar food but elated with finding two of our target birds on a windy Arizona day.