Monthly Archives: June 2018

Fire In The Hole!

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Braden here.

At 6:30 on Sunday, June 17^th, retired UM Professor Dick Hutto picked up my dad and me to go birding. In the passenger seat of Dick’s car was Dick’s former graduate student Hugh Powell, who was in Missoula to write an article for the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Our mission was simple: see a Black-backed Woodpecker.

Townsend’s Warbler. (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

We were headed to an area known as the Rice Ridge Fire (after a quick coffee stop), to the northeast of Missoula. The first time we had heard about this trip was at Montana Audubon’s Wings Across the Big Sky Bird Festival. A birder from Helena told us that Dick (who had an abundance of bird knowledge, specifically about birds that liked fire) was leading a field trip up to the burn and mentioned we might want to come along. My dad, who knew Dick well, jumped at the chance and asked Dick if we could get a ride up with him. Well, here we were.

At Seeley Lake, a large tourist area as well as great birding stop, we met the rest of the group, all birders of different experience levels from Helena. Knowing that this area was good for American Redstarts and Northern Waterthrushes, my dad and I persuaded the group to look around Seeley before hitting the burn. We quickly saw and heard 15 species, including the uncommon Willow Flycatcher, identified by its characteristic call, Fitz-bew.

We slowly made our way up Rice Ridge Road, stopping regularly to look for our goal, the Black-backed. The burn area had not been logged, thankfully, and every time we stopped Dick emphasized that it should not be logged, either—why not just cut trees near town instead? Burn areas have some of the highest levels of biodiversity in the country! (For more information on this, check out my dad’s book, Fire Birds: Valuing Natural Wildfires and Burned Forests.)

Lincoln’s Sparrows are known for nesting in higher altitude wet areas. (Photo by Braden Collard)

No Black-backeds showed, but the birds did not disappoint—MacGillavry’s Warblers and Lincoln’s Sparrows skulked in the low brush, Bluebirds danced across the black trunks, and woodpeckers of many species drummed and called. On that one stretch of road we observed four species—Northern Flicker, Hairy Woodpecker, Williamson’s Sapsucker, and (new for the year) at least three American Three-toed Woodpeckers, the Black-backed’s slightly less burn-dependent cousin.

In one spot, sort of a mix of burn and old-growth with a creek running through it, we were amazed with the number of species. A dipper, nesting under the bridge. Great looks at a Townsend’s Warbler. Large numbers of Western Tanagers and robins, both burn-preferring species. Sharon Dewart-Hansen, a Helena woman who was first in the state for the year, pointed out a new call for us—the Whip Three Beers of the Olive-sided Flycatcher.

Dick was slightly disappointed at the low number of woodpeckers, saying they would reach their peak two or three years from now, but everyone else was ecstatic. It had been a great trip, Black-backed or not.

The number of American Three-toed Woodpeckers that are in burns is double that of those not in burns. (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Warblers Across Montana

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We heard more Northern Waterthrushes than saw them, but did manage an occasional glimpse. (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

During our 2016 Big Year, Braden and I were fortunate to attend the Monterey Bay Birding Festival. Our all-day “California Specialties” field trip was one of the most exhilarating days of birding we’d had to that point and ever since, we’d wanted to attend a similar event. Last weekend, we finally got our chance by going to Wings Across the Big Sky, held in Kalispell, Montana. As you might imagine, the event was loaded with terrific speakers, good food, and amazing field trips.

Picking our field trips proved a challenge, but on Saturday Braden and I opted to bird in Glacier National Park. Our top target species? Varied Thrush, Chestnut-backed or Boreal Chickadees, Harlequin Duck, and a pie-in-the-sky possibility, the endangered Black Swift. Shortly after 6 a.m., we followed our intrepid leader, Steve Gniadek, out of Kalispell and by 7:30 were birding the woods around Apgar. Almost immediately, we picked up one of our target birds, Chestnut-backed Chickadee, but what really stunned us was the profusion of warblers. In the thick, damp woods, seeing the birds proved a challenge, but their calls rang out all around us and, under Steve’s tutelage, we did our best to start learning them. Over the next two hours, we heard (and eventually saw) eight species—Yellow, Yellow-rumped, Townsend’s, American Redstart, Northern Waterthrush, Orange-crowned, Common Yellowthroat and MacGillivray’s. For Montana, it was an astounding total and almost a quarter of the 33 species we recorded.

MacGillivray’s Warblers have become one of Braden’s and my favorite summer arrivals in Montana. (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Our group’s next mission: Harlequin Ducks. The iconic Going-to-the-Sun Road was still closed, but we drove to Avalanche Creek to find a mob scene of hikers and bikers taking advantage of the closed road before cars were allowed up and over Logan Pass. In the confusion, our cars got separated, but as soon as our group stepped out of our car, we heard the eerie, drawn-out call of a Varied Thrush. “Let’s find it!” Braden exclaimed, leading us into a patch of conifers and, sure enough, we caught good, brief glimpses of this spectacular bird.

No sooner had we stepped out into the open, Braden and another member of our group shouted “Black Swifts!” We looked overhead to see several large black birds zooming about 100 feet above us. “How do you know they’re not Vaux’s?” I asked. The large size and slower wing beats strongly suggested Black Swifts, but a few minutes later, we got a clear answer when a Vaux’s and a Black Swift flew right next to each other, articulating the size difference between the two.

Elated with this bonus—a Lifer for both Braden and me—we headed down to MacDonald Creek to try to locate Harlequin Ducks. We didn’t find them, but got a great look at a Fox Sparrow and heard yet more warblers. By this time our comrades had reformed and we all decided to walk up Avalanche Creek. None of us expected to find the ducks, but at our last stop along the creek, I happened to glance at a shady eddy upstream—just in time to see a large shape disappear beneath the surface!

A Lifer for me, this Harlequin Duck put an end to a two-year search. (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

I grabbed Braden’s arm. “Braden, watch that spot!” A few seconds later, a gorgeous male Harlequin Duck popped to the surface. The duck performed for our group for twenty minutes. I can’t say I got great photos, but watching this happy, rare white-water paddler enjoy the currents is something Braden and I will never forget.

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The Big Weekend, Version 3.0, Part Two

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Clay-colored Sparrow.

Braden here again, to continue our birding trip to Malta.

The next morning, after a brief detour at Malta’s Trafton Park, we thought up our slogan, “Bowdoin or Bust”. Last June, when we had visited Bowdoin National Wildlife Refuge last, it had taken us at least forty five minutes to get there from Malta thanks to heavy construction on the way there. This time, thankfully, the road seemed all right, and we made it in about 20 minutes. We parked at the visitor center, shot bug-killing chemicals all over our exposed skin, and hit the pond loop.

The cottonwoods surrounding the small pond were alive with calls; some I knew, like the che-bek of the Least Flycatcher. Others were foreign to my ears. Our target bird for this area was Baltimore Oriole, an uncommon Montana migrant. We had searched for them at Trafton Park last night, with no luck, and now hoped to see the one that had been reported here recently. No oriole. There was also a surprising lack of Great Horned Owls; we had seen four here last summer.

Next we entered the Auto Tour Loop, a 15-mile drive around the huge lake that Bowdoin was famous for. The American White Pelican, Bowdoin’s biggest celebrity, nested here in huge numbers. As we began the drive around the lake, I called stop so we could identify a small sparrow perched on a shrub to the left of the road. This was the first, but definitely not the last “sparrow stop” of the day.

We continued up the road, identifying Clay-colored, Savannah and Grasshopper Sparrows every few minutes. At one stop, we met some fellow birders from Bigfork, near Flathead Lake, and they pointed out the strangely-metallic song of the grassland-dependent Baird’s Sparrow.

The drive was great, better than we expected. We saw grebes, ducks and shorebirds(including a Black-bellied plover) in large numbers on the lake, and ear-birded the surrounding prairie. At the end of the loop, as we began entering widely-spaced trees, a bird on the wing caught our attention.

Eared Grebe on nest.

“Turkey Vulture!” I said, watching the large raptor try to stabilize in the wind. Suddenly, though, another bird took off below it. The bird flew like a flicker, but had a very unusual black and white pattern on its back and wings. We could not see the head.

At the same time, my dad and I turned towards each other and said, “Red-headed Woodpecker!” My dad gunned the engine and we chased it. As it crested the hill, though, we lost it and couldn’t relocate it again.

Bewildered and sad, we took another walk around the visitor center pond. Nothing new showed itself—the day grew hot and the birds started settling down. As we finished, though, I spotted a tangerine-colored bird swoop down from a cottonwood into some distant trees.

“Daddy! Oriole!”

I didn’t want to get too excited, as both Bullock’s and Orchard were also possible, but I hoped for our target, the Baltimore. And as it popped back up into view, the neon orange body and black head confirmed it. We saw a Baltimore Oriole!

Bowdoin had not disappointed.

Baltimore Oriole, Bowdoin NWR. Bad Photo, great experience.

The Big Weekend, Version 3.0, Part One

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Townsend’s Warbler, Glacier National Park.

Braden present.

Ever since 2016, the year we did our Big Year, my dad and I have had a tradition of going all out on Memorial Day weekend. That year, with our friend Nick Ramsey guiding us, we raced from Lee Metcalf Widlife Refuge south of Missoula to the Seeley-Swan Valley close to Glacier National Park, picking up a variety of great birds: Black-backed Woodpecker, Ruffed Grouse, American Redstart (not as common for us as for you Easterners), and one of my favorite birds: Common Yellowthroat. The following year, we again focused on our area and racked up 56 species in 3 hours, including a stunning pair of Red-naped Sapsuckers.

This year, when I first heard that I had to go up to go to a Boy Scout camp called Grizzly Base on Memorial Day weekend, I was disappointed. As we grew closer to the date, though, I began realizing two things: Grizzly Base itself could be good birding, and we were only there for a day and a half, leaving almost three more days to bird. For the latter idea, I was thinking we could get up to Glacier National Park; it was pretty close and convenient to where we would be staying. Fortunately, we did even better than that.

The camp was really fun. I learned a lot of things, and got to know the people and place I would be working with this summer. Grizzly Base’s birds were nothing to look down upon either as we spotted more than twenty species including a Bufflehead nest, Townsend’s Solitaires, a Pileated Woodpecker, a Western Tanager and a pair of Wood Ducks.

Early Saturday afternoon, though, my dad and I packed up and set out to bird in earnest.

We followed Highway 2 around the southern border of Glacier National Park. We stopped at a spot for my dad to take a nap, and I was surprised to see and hear several Townsend’s Warblers, along with lots of Yellow-rumpeds and a pair of Rufous Hummingbirds. As we crossed the continental divide, things got drier. First, it was just drier forest; soon we were on the dry northern part of Montana known as the High Line, prairie pothole country. We stopped to photograph a Ferruginous Hawk nest right off the road, and spotted American Avocets, Wilson’s Phalaropes and dozens of ducks in the small ponds we passed.

Ferruginous Hawks are a generally a rare sighting–so finding a nest was amazing!

We also made a list of goal year birds. The three we had just seen were on there, along with as many small birds as possible: Lark Sparrow, Lark Bunting, Clay-colored Sparrow, Brewer’s Sparrow, Chestnut-collared Longspur, Grasshopper Sparrow, Baird’s Sparrow, Sprague’s Pipit. Baltimore Oriole topped our list, as it was on my Top Ten ABA Life needs list, and several had been reported around Malta the last couple days.

As we reached Havre, a large-ish city about halfway through Montana, the long drive was starting to get to us. Not helping was the fact that the road signs kept displaying Malta as at least 80 miles away, and we weren’t sure if we could make it. My dad kept driving, determined as ever.

As we headed east from Havre, the ranches that had been lining the road transformed into crop farms instead; particularly irrigated fields. Red-winged Blackbirds lined the fences and gates, and I casually glanced at every one to verify its identity. Once, as we passed another one, the bird turned away from highway. The back of its head was a large patch of cream, and its back was a brilliant pattern of white.

“Bobolink!! Turn around!!” I shouted as we screamed by.

“What?! Do we have to?”

“Yes!” So we did. That Bobolink, a rare sighting for us, got us to Malta, where our intensive birding would begin.

As more prairie has been converted to farmland, Bobolinks have switched their habitat from tallgrass prairie to irrigated fields.