Minnesota: Day 2.... Sort of

We woke early. Coffee. Bagels and waffles all around. It's cold but still not really snowing so we get moving. We cruise the roads looking for more birds as we make our way back up to the Stoney Point area. We again are searching for owls. Our newest arrivals have only ever heard a Boreal Owl so I am dead set on finding them one. We drive slow and steady along the area and find another large flock of Bohemian Waxwings. These fat ass cousins of the Cedars give us all great looks as they move about and then fly off down the road. Chickadees are everywhere. It's pretty slow for the most part though. A Pileated Woodpecker puts on a little show playing peek a boo as it works a pine. Snap, snap, shutter shutter...more photos. We stop a million times for scenic pictures but still no owls.
We decide to try the 4th Avenue alley. This is a very pretty little spot nestled in behind some houses. The snow is deep but what the hell....we dive into the woods looking for Boreal anyway. An hour later we are still empty handed. Lots of whitewash around but no owls. We press on. Checking harbors and the lighthouse area. At the lighthouse we have five Long-tailed Ducks. Two striking males and three standoffish females. But for whatever reason it is lackluster. They are not why we are here.
At is point I make a decision to head up to the forest roads where Spruce Grouse have been seen. This is one of those birds that is becoming a nemesis. I want it. We head north along the lake and then into the Superior National Forest. It's scenic and pretty. Pretty birdless as well. Fourteen miles of driving 10 miles an hour is starting to get to me. And then it started to lightly snow. It's pretty. The tall evergreens covered in snow look like something from a post card. Our spirits are still high but we just aren't finding birds. The snow picks up a little and yet we just keep heading north. The snow is a little heavier now. But it's just snow right? And then it happens. Before we know it the road starts to disappear in front of us. It's whiter and whiter. I stop a few times to clean off the wipers which are doing their job but having a hard time removing the snow.
It becomes time that we are all thinking the same thing. Let's get the hell out of here. We are miles from the last time we saw a house or a store or another human for that matter. We stop for another wiper cleanse. That's when it happens. The blade slips from my hand snapping down onto the windshield. Upside down. The blade itself goes flying. Flying across the road. Uh oh. Except that's not what I said. Or yelled. Ask anyone in that van. My lips told another story..
I think for a minute my head must evaporate into the snow because I am surely as white as the squall in the background. I retrieve the blade and kind of inspect it. What the hell do I know? I can't remember the last time I even held one of these things. There are people who get paid to do it when I get an oil change after all. I might as well be holding a protractor. Deep breaths. That sick in the knees feeling. The panic begins to take hold. We'll NEVER make it back in a blizzard without this plastic and rubber device I now hold in my near frozen fingers. Deep breaths. For whatever reason the logic gods are on my side. I figure out how to reattach the, now lifesaving, blade to the arm with a deft little snap. All is not lost. We are saved.
Sort of.
The 20' wide road is now a white blanket in front of me. At times the snow is so strong that I can't see the hood of the van. That little wiper blade I almost assassinated slaps back and forth piling snow below it but the windshield remains mostly clear. We inch along. Blizzard Orko. Yes Orko, stupid fucking name, by the way, continues to pound us. The snow is two, then four, or five inches deep on the road. Where the firm road and the certain death of the berm are, I have no idea. I just keep moving. Stopping every now and then to VERY CAREFULLY clean the blades which I now admit are the single best invention of mankind. Of all time. The person who invented the wiper blades should be on every single monetary note used across the world. Screw fire and Google, wiper blades are the shit. (thank you Mary Anderson, for inventing them in 1904...PS. I wouldn't know that without Google).
We make it to a restaurant where we are entertained by the waitresses extended "O"s and rehash the days events only after the guys in the van push us up a hill into the parking lot. It's a pleasant experience but for me it is soured by one thing. The Herculean task that I know lies ahead. Getting this gigantic van up that ski slope of a driveway to the hotel.
We attempt it. We make it ten feet up and know that there is no way. Back it up. We will park at the gas station and walk up to the hotel. In a blizzard. With a thousand pounds of gear. Awesome. But of course we can't get up the six foot hill into the gas station either. Does not a single snow plow exist in this frozen wasteland of a city? We decide to try the last entrance to the gas station which is off the main road just up a slightly less intimidating hill. At the red light we search for the number to the hotel so I can, in no uncertain terms, tell them we are not paying for this night in the place. Green light. Slow left hand turn and then there it is. Like a sign from god, in gleaming blue and white, an actual sign:

Spirit Mountain Inn
<----------------

Seriously? A second entrance? Not one of the hotel employees we have encountered with their extended "O"s could have said " Oooohhhh yaaaaa, there's a second entrance to the hotel" ? Bastards.
We make it in. Almost easily. Then lot isn't plowed and the van sits where it stops. Taking up two handicap spaces and a regular spot. I don't care. If a tow truck can get up here then by all means....as for me? I'm going to bed. As I close my eyes I still see the wipers moving back and forth. Good enough for me...me and my Bobby McGee plays in my head. Tomorrow will better. Unless it's a blizzard then my ass is sleeping in.

Minnesota Excursion: Let the crazy begin...

Day 1:

Well a last minute trip to the Duluth area, prompted by a friend having the weekend off, turned out to be a very productive jaunt. We pulled out Friday night at around six. Seven excited folks ready to bird the shit out of the Minnesota bogs and birds. A quick stop at the Toledo airport for our eighth passenger and we were off. So after blasting through Chicago I decided to just push through the night. We arrived in Duluth around 7:30 the next morning. 3 redbulls, lots of coffee and I was ready to go. We pulled into a parking lot and everyone layered up with subzero gear. Our main target was a boreal owl that had been seen in this area a day prior. A few phone calls, a little reconnoitering and piling back in the van we decided to try a bit of a more reliable spot.
Up north a ways along scenic 61 we stopped at Stoney Point Road and spread out looking for this tough little owl. An hour and 25 minutes later and still no bird. We decided to drive a bit farther to Alseth Road and park and try again. Everyone wasn't even out of the van before we were on the bird. Perched out on the end of a deciduous branch for all the world to see. Bam. Within five minutes 50+ birders decended on the spot. Cameras snapped and shuttered. High fives all around. Fist bumps. Life bird dances. It was kind of fantastic. The little ruffian sat and intently listened and watched the snow covered ground below him. He flew to a small tree then another branch before he decided to hunt further down the road. Score one for the trip. A life bird for all eight of us!


After soaking in this amazing moment we decided to make a very necessary food and bathroom break. I caught ten minutes of power sleep in the van while the others regaled and chowed down and we were off again. This time in search of yet another boreal visitor. Northern Hawk Owk. Twenty minutes later we pull over on Martin Road and scan the area where this bird has been seen numerous times. I'm out scanning when the van door flies open and the crowd says there's a car pulled over with a scope out a few hundred yards down the road. A few moments later we are all standing there looking at the next beautiful owl of our trip. He's perched high on a snag with his wicked face looking about intently. Again more photos. Conversation with a local guide who was there who shared lots of info. High fives. Fist bumps. Life bird dances for some. This is a bird that I have seen before but still can't seem to tear my eyes from. He takes flight and sails down the road to another perch. A collective sigh of relief and smiles overtake our group. Score! Target #2. Check!

From here we decide to gun it up to Sax-Zim Bog. A fabled place of owls and woodpeckers, grouse and magpies, chickadees and jays. It doesn't completely disappoint. The Admiral Road feeders are bustling with activity. Common redpolls descend in whirl of noise and feathers. Among them two crisp Hoary Redpolls. Black-capped Chickadees are all over and among them are at least two Boreal Chickadees. Beautiful cousins to our normal fare. They move about making quick business of suet and seed. Stopping only for the briefest of moments. Shutters of cameras fill the air again. Another life bird for most of the group. A gray jay pops in to add to the icing on the cake that is already pretty sweet. At this point it's about 4 pm and honestly I'm a bit tired but rejuvenated a bit by these birds. We press on.
Exploring the entirety of this bog would, I think, take days. We simply don't have that much day light left. We cruise the roads slowly looking for signs on life. A flock of pine grosbeaks in the distance are a nice find and later after speaking with another very friendly local guide we find a distant Black-billed Magpie. These birds are at their farthest eastern point of existence. It's a really cool bird that I wish we had had better looks at. But the view is distant and in fading light before the bird drops from sight. Regardless, we'll take it. Tonight we strike out on the big bad boy. Great Gray Owl. We still have a few more days. It's now almost dark and I'm spent. We head to the hotel to check in after driving up the worlds steepest driveway. We are all thankful the roads are clear and this drive clean. Maybe too thankful.....tomorrow is another day and in Minnesota the weather and road conditions can change pretty rapidly.
Check in. Discard 14 layers of clothing. Eat a pizza. Pass out. Tomorrow would be an early day.