Days 8 and 9

June 17, 2015

I awoke super early in the morning.  Changing two time zones the day before will do that.  I go from the last light of day ending around 10 PM to sunrise at 4:45.  That’s a big switch.

The dawn chorus is in full effect.  My one goal here is the Mexican Chickadee.  Chickadees are usually easy to find.  They’re gregarious.

They’re supposed to be here too.

We start looking and listening.  Yellow-Eyed Juncos are everywhere.  What would be a fantastic bird anywhere else, is getting in the way of finding the chickadee.  They have a buzzing call that throws me off every time I hear it.  We start looking up in the top of the trees.

We start to see lots of little birds flitting about, but in the low light, they’re hard to ID.  Then, one catches our attention.  It’s high up, small, and clearly not a junco.  There’re two of them.  Yellow breast on one I notice.  My friend Keith sees orange.  It’s a warbler of some kind.  Up here, there are two options: Grace’s or Olive.  Either would be a lifer.  Both have yellow or orange bellies.  But, the Grace’s have striping, our bird didn’t.

#377 – Olive Warbler (lifer #480)

Fist pump.  That’s a good bird.

Lots of wildlife up here, like the diminutive Coue’s White-Tailed Deer.

Coue’s White-Tailed Deer

We wander up the trail.  We see some Steller’s Jays.

Steller’s Jay

A little further up the trail, I notice that there are now some fir trees interspersed in the pine trees.  Then, the chickadees arrive.  Finally, after 4 trips to these mountains, I get the Mexican Chickadee.

#378 – Mexican Chickadee (lifer #481)

Mexican Chickadee

Mexican Chickadee

Mexican Chickadee

Mexican Chickadee

We head back to our camp.  Just as we turn back, Keith says, there’s a yellow bird up there.  I turn am hear a whoosh by my head.  I’m nearly hit by a Western Tanager.  It clearly didn’t like my yellow hair encroaching on its yellowness.

#379 – Western Tanager

From here, we have a quick breakfast of Pop Tarts and try to figure out how best to do the rest of Arizona.  We try to lay out each day and what the plans and targets are.  We decide to go into the Chiricahua National Monument right next door to where we are (and by next door, I mean 45 minutes away through 15 miles of some of the worst dirt roads I’ve ever driven on).

We descend.  I’m able to spot both Mexican Fox Squirrels and Cliff Chipmunks.  Both year mammals for me.

Mexican Fox Squirrel

Then, about 3/4 of the way down, I spot two birds casually walking across the road.  They look like quails.  They are quails.

Just then, some asshole, comes ripping by on the road.  The only other car we see on the road.  The quails run off into the forest.  We scan for them.  They still there, acting nonchalant.  A pair of Montezuma Quail.  Just sitting there posing for us.

Montezuma Quail

Montezuma Quail

Turns out this was a good stop all around.  There’s lots of action here.  Some Coue’s White-Tailed Deer are near the stream and a Hepatic Tanager is flying between the trees.

#380 – Hepatic Tanager

It’s mid-morning by the time we get to the monument.  The birds are all hunkered away prepared for the heat of the Arizona day.  Nothing new to pick up here, but some great vistas.

By 11:30, we’re heading back to Wilcox and from there to Ramsey Canyon for hummingbirds and other goodies.  We stop on the side of the road to look at a couple of Pyrruloxia and scope out a few other birds.

At this point, I haven’t had a cell phone signal in about 18 hours.  I expect, I’ll have a few missed texts.

I do.

“Bret, call home immediately.”

“Where are you? Call home.”

“Get in touch, we need you.”

My parents and sister have been trying to reach me all morning.  This isn’t good.

I call home.  My grandmother has fallen.  She’s hit her head and is bleeding internally.

“Do I need to come home?”

“Yes.”

At Wilcox, I head right while Keith heads left.  It’s 12.5 hours back to Fort Worth.  I can’t do it in one day, but I’ll do as much as possible.

Things aren’t good back home.  I talk to my mom, dad, and sister.  Evidently hospice has been called and she’s been transferred from the local hospital to the large regional hospital.  It’s just a matter of waiting now.

My trip is over.

I make pretty good time.  Until El Paso.

There, 1,000 feet from the Mexican border, that funny wobbling in my car turns into a full blown and exploded front passenger side tire.  A good man knows how to change a tire.  A smart man knows how to and then calls AAA.

I get the tire changed. (The AAA guy was an idiot.  He didn’t even carry a tire gauge.  Ummm, that’s kind of your job.)  The wobbling is gone, and I head on home.

I make a pit stop in Van Horn.  I know there is a spot there that I might be able to pick up one more bird, the Gambel’s Quail.  I don’t see it, but I do get my first ever photos of Scaled Quail.

Scaled Quail

How odd it is that it’s in a graveyard.

I make it another couple of hours before I decide to stop.  I pull over to a rest area before I get to Midland.  I try to sleep here in the car.  It’s not ideal, but it’s unplanned.

I groggily awake in the morning.  I drive on in to Midland and Odessa.  The only reason to ever visit these two cities is to pee and get gas.

I make it home by about 12:30.

And now, we wait.

Day 7

June 16, 2015

I woke up, once again, after torrential rains to sunrise in the mountains.  There were still dark clouds on the horizon.  Before I got out of my tent, I had a chorus of birds calling.  One stood out.  There was a vireo calling.  In the campground, there was only one possible candidate, Plumbeous.

#376 Plumbeous Vireo

This would be the only bird I get today.  The rest of the day will be sight-seeing and driving.

First sight to see is Carlsbad Caverns.  I figured, why not, since I’m here.  It’s only 40 miles away.

Words don’t do the caverns justice.  It felt like a scene out of Journey to the Center of the Earth (which, it turns out, was filmed here).

From the Caverns, I heading on into El Paso.  I just wanted a short rest, gas, and coffee.  At some point along the trip, I noticed my car starting to wobble.  I didn’t think much of it and drove on.

After consulting with a few friends, they all convinced me to head immediately to White Sands National Monument.  So I did.

Once again, I’ll let the pictures tell the story.

From here, I headed on to the Chiricahua Mountains.  I’ve been trying to bird this area correctly for a long time.  I got in late that night as the sun was setting.  Oh guess what, I had to drive through more storms.  Again.

I met a friend here who would accompany me throughout my Arizona leg and help find some of the awesome birds I needed.

Day 6

June 15, 2016

I awoke fairly rested that morning,  My goal was to get the Montezuma Quail and try for the Zone-Tailed Hawk.  I pack up camp and head to the top of the ridge.

Davis Mountains

I scan the horizon for any soaring birds, but it’s still too early for the thermals.  I’m able to see lots of Rock Wrens plus a few other birds.  Then I hear a distinct scream call.  It’s unmistakable.  Only one bird sounds like that.  Will it call again?  I hear a second call.  I’m sure this time, but it never calls again.

#372 Montezuma Quail (Lifer #478)

Try as I might, I never do find the hawk.  I leave around 9:00 or so and head to Balmorhea.  Balmorhea is a small town home to one of the few lakes in far west Texas.  It is also the only 100% reliable spot in the state for Western and Clark’s Grebes.

As I’m driving, I have an odd bird run across my path.  At first I think it’s a roadrunner, but the shape isn’t right.  It is grayish-brown with a long tail.  It stays on the ground the whole time.  It’s a thrasher, but what kind.  I’ve got two options here, Curve-Billed and Crissal.  The long tail is my first give away.  Second is habitat.  I see it in a canyonish area with denser foliage.  I’ve got a Crissal!

#373 Crissal Thrasher (Lifer #479)

I get to Balmorhea Lake about 10:30ish and break out my scope.  This is the first time on the trip I’ve needed it and it was by now buried under my suitcase.  I start looking for birds.  At first, the lake seems void of life, but slowly, a few birds start to appear.  They’re far off on the other side of the lake (it’s a very small lake, and I can see the whole thing from the roadside).  They’re grebes, but what kind.  I’m first able to ID a Western, then I see a whiter bird, and get my Clark’s.  Ten, fifteen minutes total and I’m done here.

#374 Western Grebe

#375 Clark’s Grebe

From here, I head on up to the Guadalupe Mountains.  This is a part of Texas I’ve never seen before.  It contains the tallest mountain in Texas, Guadalupe Peak, and the most recognizable mountain in Texas, the adjacent El Capitan.  The whole range is the remnants of a huge ancient coral reef. There are supposed to be good desert and mountain birds here.

El Capitan

I hike some of the trails, but it’s hot in the mid afternoon.  I don’t see or hear much.  I’d need to do several miles of hiking to get the birds I need.  I make the decision to get those birds where it will be easier in other states where I don’t have to hike 9 miles.

Oh, guess what…

More rain…

I get a fourth night in a row of thunderstorms in the desert.  Once again, I weather the storm in my tent.  This time, I really do start getting wet.  Nothing major, but water is getting in. Note to self, do not bring computer or other electronics into tent…

Day 5

June 14, 2015

Almost exactly one year ago to the day I swore to myself I would never do that again.  I swore that the Colima Warbler wasn’t worth all that trouble.  I swore that the death march was something that would, in all likelihood, kill me.

I did it anyway.

As I had planned, I awoke at three in the morning.  As I had not planned, the storms from the previous night returned in full vigor at one in the morning and blew my tent sideways.  “Fuck this,” I told myself – well, really more thought to myself, but I digress.  So, I went in my car and tried to sleep for the last two hours.  I didn’t sleep much, but I didn’t blow away either.

My alarm came.  I seriously thought about not getting up.  I didn’t.  I would make the death march.

It’s called the death march by birders because it is a minimum of a nine mile strenuous hike.  This hike is done to get a single bird – the Colima Warbler.  The Colima Warbler is only found in the US in the highest part of the Chisos Mountains.  It is only there for a few months out of the year, and for those months, it only sings for part of the time.  The song is sometimes the only way to find it.  It takes an average person some 6 hours to do the whole trip.  I’m not average.  I’m a fat ass (is fat-ass hyphenated?).  I’m out of shape and tubby – getting tubbier all the time.  It sucks.  But, that’s what being lonely and depressed will do to you (among other things).

I start the march at 3:15.  It’s slow going.  I have my spotlight to guide the way.  Occasionally, my way is also lighted by a lightning storm behind me (to the west I think – directions confuse me in the Basin).  That doesn’t bode well at all.  Sunrise won’t be until 6:49.  Three-and-a-half hours in the dark.

I’m able to hear the night chorus of insects and occasionally a bat that swoops close enough for me to hear.  I wish I could have ID’d the bats for my year mammal count, but outside of netting them, it’s impossible.  Finally, I hear the first night birds.  First to call is a Mexican Whip-poor-will.  If my ID from the night I came in the park was suspect, this was dead on.  It was the unmistakable whip-poor-will call.  Then Elf Owls start calling.  I probably have a dozen or more Elf Owls by the time I reach the top.  Finally, I hear a few Western Screech-Owls.

#362 – Elf Owl

At 6 in the morning, the lightning turns to rain.  I’m still a mile from where I need to be.  I was smart enough to bring a rain poncho.  Sexy it isn’t, but it is somewhat functional.  And hot.  It gets hot under there.  I trudge on in the rain for about 30 minutes.  It finally stops as the first hint of day approaches.  This high, I’m much closer to the sun than I was down below.  It bet dawn will get here sooner.

About the time I’m able to switch off my lamp, I start to hear more birds calling.  First that I can ID are Black-Headed Grosbeaks.  I never saw them, but I could hear them.

#363 – Black-Headed Grosbeak

I finally get to the top around 7:00. It’s 7,000 feet up.  I’d hiked about 1,600 feet up.  I still had more to go.  The birds are on the other side of the mountain.  The side I hiked up was the dry side.  The opposite side, that can only be reached by hiking is the wet side.  And it was totally different.  When I birded there before, I was there about 11 in the morning.  This time, I got there at dawn.  The morning and nighttime rains may have sucked at the time, but they had a miraculous effect on the canyon.

As I descended down the opposite side of the mountain, I stepped into a different world.  I was in a cloud forest.  I felt as if I were in Central or South America.  I was in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Lost World.  There was true magic here.  The fog was dense, and the wind strong.  I could see the clouds blowing by giving brief glimpses of what lay ahead and beyond.

I started to hear the birds.  So many all at once, I couldn’t ID them at times.  Could that have been a Colima?  I asked myself that numerous times.

I can’t remember what order the birds came in.  But I know I was able to get in pretty quick succession two new vireos.

#364 – Gray Vireo

#365 – Hutton’s Vireo

Hutton’s Vireo

I also heard the faint cooing of a pigeon.  Had to be a Band-Tailed

#366 – Band-Tailed Pigeon

Then I heard a hummingbird.  It was a juvenile.  Hard to ID.  But then, the mother came in to feed it.  Broad-Tailed!  Lifer!

#367 – Broad-Tailed Hummingbird

Broad-Tailed Hummingbird

The hummingbirds were right at the start of the Colima Train, presumably a good place to find them.  By this point, I feel pretty confident that I had hear at least one Colima.  They sound a little like the end of a Bewick’s Wren’s call.  There were numerous Bewick’s up there though, which made the ID difficult.

I start to head back.  Then I hear the call.  It’s an unmistakable Colima.  I scan for it.  Then, out of the corner of my eye, a second bird flies in.  Do I look at it, or keep looking for the Colima?  I look at it.  Dark gray body.  Yellow belly.  Rusty red crown.  COLIMA!  And it’s gone in less than a second.  But I had it.  I saw it for a little longer last year (maybe 5 seconds), but this look was definitive and soul satisfying.  I wish I could have gotten a photo, but alas, I’m not that quick.

#368 – Colima Warbler

I start heading back about 8:00, when most normal people would just be starting their hike.  Birders aren’t normal.  As I descend, I start to see White-Throated Swifts buzzing overhead.

#369 – White-Throated Swift

Going down is far easier than going up.  The one benefit to going up though is that by then end of this trip, if I keep doing that, I will have an amazing ass.  Damn, that is a glut workout.  I stop about once an hour going down.  When I went up, I had to stop maybe every 15 minutes to catch my breath.  At the first stop, I sit for about ten minutes when a large grayish hummingbird flied right in front of me for a split second.  It whirred as it went.  There are four possible hummingbirds according to recent reports from eBird.  One is the Broad-Tailed, which I had just seen.  It didn’t whirr.  Two more are the Black-Chinned and the Lucifer.  Both of these are smaller hummers.  They can be mistaken for one another.  Neither whirr.  That leaves only one option, the Blue-Throated Hummingbird.  I mull the ID over in my head all the way down the mountain.  By checking reports and guide books, I’m positive that it was a Blue-Throated.

#370 – Blue-Throated Hummingbird.

I finally arrive back at the lodge at 11:00.  I promptly go in and buy a nasty sandwich, that I immediately regretted.  I was famished and my legs were wobbly.

I decided to pack up camp and head on out.  I had paid for another night, but just didn’t feel like staying.  I had done everything I needed.

By noon, I was on my way to the Davis Mountains.

I got to Fort Davis at about 3 or so and got a campground.  “Oh, by the way,” says the front desk person lady, “there’s an Elf Owl nest at your campsite.  It’ll poke its head out every now and then.”  I’d say that’s a pretty good welcome to the Davis Mountains.

I then head to the bird blind.  My one target here is the Montezuma Quail.  They’re hard to find anywhere, and this is the most reliable spot in the state.  I run into some other birders at the blind, and the guy will not stop talking to me.  I sit there and take his incessant bantering on about how excited he was to see his first Eurasian Collared Dove or how good the Rio Grande Valley used to be in the day.    Granted, they do tell me a few things that I wanted to know.  Like, where to possibly find the quail, that there is a Zone-Tailed Hawk in the area, and where to find Cassin’s Kingbirds.  Actually, the last part wasn’t too hard.  We walked outside, that one of the pair points up, “There’s your Cassin’s.”

#371 – Cassin’s Kingbird

Cassin’s Kingbird

The most enjoyable thing about the state park are the showers.  I hadn’t bathed in nearly a week.  I was beginning to revolt myself from the stench.  It felt so good to wash away the funk.

Speaking of washing away, the storms were back.  I hadn’t set up my tent yet, and by 6 the deluge had hit, this time with hail.  How exciting (he said in a completely non-sarcastic way).

I rode out the storm in my car.  Trying to sleep.  Not really, I was taking full advantage of the free WiFi at the campgrounds.  By 8, I had had it.  The rain by then was just a drizzle.  I had to set up my tent and get something for dinner.  Camp was set up quickly, and for the second time that day I had donned the red rain poncho.

I ate.

Finally, I had one of the most restful nights of sleep I had had so far on the trip.  I fell asleep to the soft call of the Elf Owl.

Day 4

June 13, 2015

I had raced through the previous three days.  Now was time to relax.  I only planned light birding for the day and the rest of the time was supposed to be idol.  I could work on my new novel or my symphony or this idea I’ve got for a smaller composition for band.  Except it’s hot.

I got out of my tent around seven and talked to the park ranger for a bit.  I decided to do a bit of hiking up towards the Pinnacles Trail.  The Pinnacles is what I plan on hiking tomorrow.  I have bad memories of that hike from last year.  A year ago, it took 8 hours to hike 11 miles in 100 degree heat.  I finished in the midafternoon dehydrated and my fingers were swollen to the size of sausages due to altitude sickness.  This year, I’m planning things differently.  Step one: start earlier.  Last year I started the hike at 6 in the morning.  Seemed reasonable enough.  That’s too late evidently.  This year, I play it safe and will wake up at 3, and hopefully be out by 3:30.  That should put me at the top by sunrise at 7:00.  Step two: don’t start hiking from the campground, start from the lodge.  The lodge is a mile further up the trail (saving 2 miles round-trip) and about 400 feet higher in elevation.  This will save a lot of effort.  Step three: don’t stop on the way up.  Last year, I stopped every step of the way to look at birds and plants and deer.  At 3:30 AM there won’t be anything to look at.  I’ll go up quicker.  Step four: bring more to drink.  On the midway point last year, I ran out of water.  No way in hell am I doing that again.  I’ve got an 8-pack of fruit punch Gatorade and several bottles of water.  I’m ready to go.  With any luck, I’ll be back down by 10 before it gets too hot.

Speaking of hot, today is sweltering.  There is absolutely no shade at the campground.  I’m sure I’ll sweat off a pound or two just sitting here typing this.  I tried getting shelter in my tent, but it was even hotter.  Sane people don’t do this.

At any rate…

I’ve rambled on long enough about tomorrow’s plans.  Here’s what I did today.

On my mini hike, I was able to pick up a single new bird, a Scott’s Oriole.  It flew across the path twice.  I only glimpsed it, but it’s an unmistakable bird with its bright yellow and black coloration.

#359 Scott’s Oriole

I hiked this trail only for about an hour.  It gave me a good feel of how to proceed with tomorrow.  From here, I headed to the Rio Grande Village on the other side of the park.  It is a completely different habitat.  It’s right along the river, so a cottonwood riparian area for those who keep track of that kind of thing.

On the way there, out from the desert plants on the left side of the road hopped up a Scaled Quail.  I wish I had gotten a better look, but it was most assuredly a quail and the only possibility here is Scaled.  Add another lifer to the list.

#360 Scaled Quail (Lifer 475)

Down at the river, I was able to get great views of the nest Common Black Hawk.  It swooped down to fend off a Common Raven.  Then, it posed for a while while I took pictures.  The nature walk area was closed off sadly.  I knew they had closed off half of the campground down there to save on costs (how this saves on costs I have no clue).  I didn’t realize that this meant that the whole nature trail would be closed off as well.  I had been hoping to go down it on the off chance of seeing otters (a really remote possibility, and honestly, one that I should have done at dawn).  A friend of mine told me that it is possible that the otters in Big Bend may not me North American River Otters but rather Neotropical Otters.  A good photo of one could go a long way in determining this.  It’s an off chance, but not out of the range of reality.

Gray Hawk

Common Black Hawk

I was also able to pick up some Texas year birds today (including Common Black Hawk and Black-Tailed Gnatcatcher).  With those, my Texas tally of birds comes in at 334, which is good enough for #28 out of all Texas birders.  I should be in the top 20 within a week.

It’s 3:30 in the afternoon as I write this.  I’m slowly waiting for the sun to set and the temperature to drop.  My computer will probably overheat soon if I keep typing.  Early to bed, early to wise, and hopefully I’ll get a Colima Warbler.

Update.  Here it is three hours later.  I’ve now had two pints of ice cream and have the severe milk farts.  Bad choices are sometimes tasty.  That last part just came out wrong.  I was referring to the ice cream, not the… ewww… what were you thinking?

A little after five, the skies (ok sky singular) started to grow dark.  Looks like we were in for another storm, but it only threatened with lightning.  The thunder in the basin echoed like I’ve never heard before.

I should probably stop writing.  Vultures are swooping down a few feet from me.  I think they’re telling me I need a shower.  And to cut down on the ice cream.

I refuse to listen to the vultures.  My brain needs activity. I seem to be the only person at the campground who is camping by themselves.  I go to get away from everything.  Everyone else goes as a social experience.  People are playing music and cavorting.  Is nature not enough?  Is the sound of the wind in the trees or the call of Cactus Wrens not enough?  Is the stunning landscape not enough? Am I a hypocrite for writing this on a computer?  Probably.

I bet the other campers have no idea that there is a Painted Bunting calling in the distance, America’s most colorful bird.

Wait, is that a Painted?  Goes to get scope…

Woohoo!  It’s a Varied Bunting!

#361 Varied Bunting

Update Number 2

The clouds burst.  Rain and hail and thunder and lightning rained down in torrents.  I huddled in my little tent for the duration.  It was intense.  The tent blew in the wind.  Drops came in and I started to worry about getting everything inside soaked.  Luckily, my little $19.95 tent from Target was up to the task.  The storms have passed and I am ready to get some rest.

Day 3

June 12, 2015

What a difference a night with no assholes makes.  I slept fairly well.  My noise-canceling earbuds helped to keep out the sound of the crashing waves.

I saw a report the night before that a Yellow-Green Vireo had been spotted recently at Sabal Palm Audubon center, so I decided to head out to the jungle.  In Texas, Sabal Palm is about as close to a jungle environment as you can get.  Walking along the paths, I can imagine myself in Central or South America.  Alas, I don’t find the vireo, but I’m not too bummed.  It wasn’t a planned bird anyway.

The rest of the day consists of a long haul drive out to Big Bend National Park.  I’ll be traveling along the Rio Grande the whole time.  I have a few stops planned to pick up just a few more birds.

Stop one is Salineno.  I’ve birded here before in the winter and spring, but never summer.  The spot is never birded much in the summer.  It used to be a reliable spot for Brown Jays, but they haven’t been seen in some time.  Maybe a summer trip will be productive (it wasn’t).  I am able to pick up a Ringed Kingfisher and Gray Hawk.

#355 – Gray Hawk

#356 – Ringed Kingfisher

Ringed Kingfisher

Next stop is a little down the road in San Ygnacio.  This seems to be the best reliable spot in the US for the White-Collared Seedeater.  I find the birding place, get out, and the very first bird I see is a Seedeater.  So much for being hard to find.  I walk around for a bit on the chance that a Red-Billed Pigeon shows up (known to be in the area), but none does show up.

#357 – White-Collared Seedeater

White-Collared Seedeater

The rest of the day is a long-ass drive to Big Bend.  What I find fascinating is to watch how the terrain and habitat changes as I go along my drive.  I start the morning at the coast, then head to the jungle, then to the Tamaulipas brushlands, and as I head north, I get to a drier habitat, and then about an hour out of Laredo, the habitat suddenly becomes lush and verdant again.  I’m now in a riparian zone.  I finally hit the Chihuahua Desert outskirts close to Del Rio.  The drive from Del Rio to Marathon is one of the most breathtaking drives I’ve ever made.  I had no idea this place even existed.  Neither does anyone else.  The road was mostly empty.  As I drove in the no-man’s-land, a violent thunderstorm started brewing.  The lightening against the dry, rocky landscape was a thing of awe and beauty.  The storm passed, and I drove into the sunset.  It glowed red and fiery orange.  I saw the world burn away behind the mountains.  And night slowly fell in west Texas. I still had a way to go.  The Lesser Nighthawks started swooping about as the last light of the sun dissipated.

I reached the park about 10 that night.  Big Bend is nothing if not big.  It was more than 30 miles from the park entrance to the campground at the Chisos Basin.  I had one more surprise as I drove in.  A large night bird swooped down in front of me.  My first thought was it was a Great Horned Owl, but something seemed off.  There were distinct with patches on the tip of the either side of the tail.  I checked my guide book.  No owl has this marking.  Only one bird fits the description, a Mexican Whip-poor-will.  Lifer!

#358 – Mexican Whip-poor-will (lifer 474)

I get in to camp about 10:30, set up as quickly as I can, and fall asleep under a sky bright with stars.

Day 2

Boom boom boom. What the actual fuck?  Who the hell decides to have a real Pow Wow at 2 in the fucking morning.  Boom boom boom. Dude, the beach is deserted and you decide to pull up next to me blaring some shit music on our car’s stereo at 2 in the goddamned morning?!

I go into my car to try and drown out the noise.  Then, miraculously, by 2:15, they leave.  God dammit.

I try to get some sleep, but it’s hard.

My alarm goes off at 6:00.  It’s time to get up.  At least I wake up to this.

It’ll be a good day.

My first stop, after packing up camp, is to drive out to Laguna Atascosa to try and find White-Tailed Hawks and the Aplomado Falcon I dipped on yesterday.  No luck on either, but I did pick up Bronzed Cowbirds for a new year bird.

#349 Bronzed Cowbird

Bronzed Cowbird

Oh well, I can still get the birds of prey before I leave.

The real target for the day is the Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl.  I had an appointment to see the owl and was gauranteed a sighting.  As I drive in to the ranch, I have a great look at a Northern Bobwhite in flight.  I’ve never gotten good looks at the bird before except in a zoo.  I also pick up Groove-Billed Ani on the way in.

#350 Groove-Billed Ani

Groove-Billed Ani

I pull up to the main house and am greeted by the owner.  There’s another birder there already looking at the owl.  It’s there posing for us!

#351 Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl (Lifer 473)

Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl

Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl

Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl

Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl

Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl

Also, while I’m there, I have 3 female Nilgai run across the road.  Unexpected for sure, but a nice addition to my mammal list.  Alas, I got no photos of them.

Before I left, I finally heard a calling Blue Grosbeak.  I thought this bird might elude me, as every time I searched for it, I missed it.

#352 Blue Grosbeak

From here, I headed to Estero Llano Grande one of the great birding sites in the US.  My two main goals here were the Brown-Crested Flycatcher and the Northern Beardless-Tyrannulet.  Both were to be found in the tropical zone of the park.  I did however miss the McCall’s Eastern Screech Owl and the Ringed Kingfisher.

#353 Brown-Crested Flycatcher

Brown-Crested Flycatcher

#354 Northern Beardless-Tyrannulet

Northern Beardless-Tyrannulet

As I write this, I’m sitting in a lovely, but crowded Starbucks.  I’m exhausted.  Several hundred miles of driving and only a few miserable hours of sleep will do that to you.

Oh yeah, I got word that the pelagic trip has been officially canceled.  Part of me is relieved.  That money can be used for other purposes.

Before the evening closes out, I plan on hitting Old Port Isabel Road again to give the Aplomado one more shot.  Then, back to the beach and maybe some sleep.

Book Talley

As of the middle of day two, I’m nearly done with 3 audiobooks.

1. Allan Quatermain – H. Rider Haggard
2. The First Men in the Moon – H.G. Wells
3. Sylvie and Bruno – Lewis Carroll

Day 1

June 10, 2015

As I write this, I am laying in my wind-swept tent on the beach at South Padre Island.  With this wind off the gulf, I don’t know if I’ll sleep well tonight or not.

(Post Script: I did not)

I was growing antsy.  My original plan was to set forth on the 11^th.  That’s tomorrow by my reckoning.  However, there was nothing keeping me grounded at home, so I set forth a day early.  I’ll get more stops in this way.

On a down note, it looks like my pelagic birding trip will probably be canceled due to weather.  It’s supposed to rain all day on Saturday.  On the up side of this, it will save me some money for later in the trip.

I left my place around 7:30 this morning.  I finished packing and headed out.  The trip seemed shorter than any other time I had done this trek before.  I know that can be accounted for due to the fact that I road birded the entire trip.  I kept a list of every bird I saw in each county.  Each list was small, 4-8 birds, but I should have a nice swath of counties marked out on my county map after this.

I got into the Valley at 3:30 and knew this was a terrible time to bird, so I went to the Gladys Porter Zoo.  At one time, I raved about this little zoo, but now, it seems sad and dilapidated.  Yes, they still have a great collection, but the facilities are falling apart and the exhibits are poor at best.  I got some good photos of the rarities and headed out.

Long-Nosed Potoroo

West African Bushbuck

Sun Bear

My first birding stop was Old Port Isabel Road.  This is a terrible road for travel purposes, but great for birds.  It’s pretty much all dirt with huge ruts that will cause your car damage if you aren’t careful.  Here I was able to pick up some good birds starting with a lifer heard in a brushy area, a Botteri’s Sparrow.  As I kept driving, I picked up a Common Ground-Dove and a Gull-Billed Tern both needed on the year.

#343 Botteri’s Sparrow (Lifer 472)

#344 Common Ground-Dove

#345 Gull-Billed Tern

From here, I needed parrots, and the best place to get them is at dusk at Oliviera Park in Brownsville.  The park was bustling, but I decided not to pay any attention to the throngs of people.  I wandered around the park for some time listening and watching.  First thing I picked off was a Mexican Ground Squirrel.

Mexican Ground Squirrel

Then I found several Tropical Kingbirds.  Finally, a lone Green Parakeet came in (late I saw 8).  I know I had seen this bird earlier, but evidently I never ticked it off my year list.  Come to think of it, maybe it was on my trip in December and not in February.  Anyway, the real goal was the Red-Crowned Parrots.  Right at dusk, three flew in.

#346 Tropical Kingbird

Tropical Kingbird

#347 Green Parakeet

Green Parakeet

#348 Red-Crowned Parrot

Red-Crowned Parrot

There is considerable debate as to where these birds came from.  Are they escapees or are some from the wild in Mexico.  On-going study will soon answer this, but for my take, these birds now represent one of the largest, and most stable, populations of either species.  They have essentially become the northern extension of what was originally two Mexican only species.

I then headed to the beach north of South Padre Island where I currently am getting a crick in my neck writing this.  Tomorrow should be fun.

My County Birding Map 6-7-15

• Green 1-24 species seen
• Blue 25-49 species seen
• Yellow 50-74 species seen
• Orange 75-99 species seen
• Red 100-149 species seen
• Dark Red 150-199 species seen
• Purple 200+ species seen

This is how my bird map looks before I set off for my trip.  I should fill in a lot of blank spaces over the next few weeks.

Chasing the Green Violetear

Last yesterday, I saw reports of a rare Green Violetear being seen at Inks Lake State Park in Central Texas.  It was too enticing to pass up.  I knew I would be in the area next week to start off my road trip, but what if the bird weren’t there?

I got up early and headed to the Hill Country.  It was about a three hour drive mostly avoiding highways.  I got there about 10:30 and had to prod and pry the people at the Park to tell me how to get to the bird blind where the bird was reported.  There is a fantastic new bird blind only a few months old there.  Unfortunately, it is overrun with common House Sparrows.  I bet it has much higher diversity in times that aren’t summer.

Anyway…

The Green Violetear never showed.  I stayed there about two hours with no luck.  The folks who had been there longer hadn’t seen it all day.  Looks like it was a one day wonder.

But, I wouldn’t let the day go to waste.  I was in Golden-Cheeked Warbler country.  I still needed my Texas endemic for the year.  I was about 40 minutes from Balcones Canyonlands NWR, so I made the jaunt over there.

I drove some winding back country roads and listened for the call.  Then headed to the visitor center.  There was a little bird blind where the Black-Capped Vireo was scolding me.  Probably the closest I’ve ever been to that bird.  In the center, they said to head to a certain spot (Sunset Overlook) and the warblers should be there.  The overlook was situated on the top of a wooded hill overlooking the river down below.  Very scenic.

As I walk down the trail, I have a Yellow-Billed Cuckoo fly across my path.  It nestles itself in the juniper so that I cannot get a photo of it, but I do get good looks at this year bird.

#342 Yellow-Billed Cuckoo

Just a bit down the path, I hear warblers calling.  Only possible warblers this time of year are Golden-Cheeked and Black-and-White.  It’s definitely not the B&W.  I’ve got my Golden-Cheeked!

#343 Golden-Cheeked Warbler

This does mean that I will have to alter my plans on the road trip slightly.  Oh darn.  I have to spend an extra day in the Rio Grande Valley.  Shucks.