Category Archives: Adventure

Our Official 2023 FSB Recap: Bird Names, Bird Clubs, and Lifers

2023 proved to be another wildly surprising year for the FatherSonBirding team. Not only did Braden and I see birds we never dreamed we’d see, but birding opportunities and the enthusiasm of our loyal FSB followers exceeded every expectation. But first, some 2023 stats:

Blogs Posted: 32

FSB Views: 9,361 (easily eclipsing last year’s record of 7,185)

Most Viewed Post: Avian Reveal: Our Five Picks for New Bird Names (598 views)

In addition to the above stats, we surpassed 30,000 lifetime blog views and have now published 174 posts since we began FSB in 2018. Even though this is far short of what is required to annoy you with paid advertisements, it’s still remarkable to us. When we began FSB, Braden and I thought we might keep at it for a year or two at most. Now, almost six years later, FSB has actually generated a body of work that we are immensely proud of. It’s been a way for us to share our adventures, promote birding, and connect with other birders. It’s also been a fun vehicle for educating others about birds and bird conservation. So let’s get to 2023’s highlights for each of us.

Sneed’s 2023 Birding Highlights

Japan: Without a doubt, my biggest highlight of the year was taking my daughter, Tessa, to Japan for three weeks. Together, we created a lifetime of memories in a country we loved even more than we thought we would. As you all discovered with my posts about Tokyo, Kyoto, Kanazawa, and other places, I got in plenty of birding, adding 28 species to my Life List and getting to know more than fifty species of common Japanese birds. (Note that Kanazawa is near the epicenter of this morning’s 7.5 earthquake. We are thinking of all of you over there, and hope everyone is safe!)

**One of my favorite Japanese birds, a male Daurian Redstart.**

Birding Eastern Montana: Thanks to assignments from Montana Outdoors magazine, I had the opportunity to drive out to Westby with my childhood buddy, Scott Callow. We not only hit hotspots such as Bowdoin NWR, Plentywood, Makoshika SP, and Bear Canyon, we had a wonderful visit with FWP biologist Heather Harris who took us on an up-close-and-personal visit to some of Montana’s healthiest short-grass prairie. There, we got my best looks ever at Sprague’s Pipits, Chestnut-collared Longspurs, and other prairie residents.

**Heading to Westby with my friend Scott was not only a great way to see great Montana birds, but a rare chance to catch up with a lifelong friendship!**

Adding Montana Lifers: While in Westby, Scott and I saw my first Piping Plover in Montana, but during the rest of the year—and with the help of other Montana birders—I also added three species to my all-time worldwide Life List: Sagebrush Sparrow (Bear Canyon), American Golden-plover (Mission Valley), and Spruce Grouse (Mission Mountains).

**This Sagebrush Sparrow was probably my favorite new ABA Lifer of 2023–and proves that great things can come in small packages!**

In addition to the above highlights, Braden and I got to bird together several times, including a breakneck trip to Glacier NP with our buddy, Nick Ramsey. I also had the pleasure of meeting a lot of other Montana birders at Wings Across the Big Sky and the meeting of Flathead Audubon. At the beginning of 2023, I had entertained visions of breaking my Montana Big Year record with my work trips to eastern Montana—but didn’t. I came close, however, racking up 253 species, including my last two: Short-eared Owl and Northern Shrike on Braden’s and my last big Montana outing. And now . . .

**Despite Braden and Nick’s busy lives getting educated and building their birder resumés, we all managed to squeeze in a quick 3-day trip to Freezeout Lake and Glacier National Park last summer.**

Braden’s 2023 Birding Highlights

Eastern Songbirds: A long-time goal of mine has been to learn the eastern songbirds, specifically the eastern wood-warblers, by ear. This summer, thanks to my job doing point counts in the woods of northeastern Pennsylvania, I succeeded at that goal, solidifying nearly two dozen warbler songs in my mental repertoire, including those of Magnolia, Canada, Mourning and Golden-winged Warblers. Beyond that, I got to spend all of May and June, and some of July, romping around the forests of the Appalachians, learning about the ecology of all of these species. I fell in love with Golden-winged Warblers, with their specialized habitat needs and endearing personalities, and came to know not only the species of birds in these forests, but also the trees the birds were using. Highlighted by a trip to Cape May and a trip to the Adirondacks, my summer in Pennsylvania may have taught me more about the natural world than any summer I’ve lived through yet!

**Getting to know Eastern warblers—including Golden-winged Warblers—fulfilled a long-held ambition of mine.**

Western Field Ornithologists Conference: In July, I said goodbye to my co-workers and the woods of Pennsylvania and flew across the country to Denver, Colorado, where I was picked up by one of the members of the board of Western Field Ornithologists (WFO). There started my week-long, high-energy stay in the alpine zone of Colorado, where I proceeded to not only see hordes of birds (including two lifers, Virginia’s Warbler and Brown-capped Rosy-finch) as well as meet a variety of people of all ages, who had converged at the WFO annual conference thanks to their passion for birds. During this conference, I got to hang out with a squadron of young birders from California and meet people like David Tonnessen, a native Coloradan guide, Nathan Pieplow, one of North America’s leading experts on bird sound, Ted Floyd, the editor of Birding magazine, Chris Wood, one of the founders of eBird, and Jesse Barry, one of the lead developers for the Merlin app. It was a whirlwind week, during which I bushwhacked through alpine tundra in search of White-tailed Ptarmigan and Dusky Grouse (only the latter of which we saw), scoped distant prairie potholes for shorebirds, and trekked through spruce-fir forest in the dark of night in an attempt for Boreal Owl. I’ll be sure to attend more of these conferences, whenever I am able to!

The field trips before the WFO conference gave me my first crack at Colorado birding!

Starting the UMaine Birding Club: Last semester, several people told me that if the University of Maine had a Birding Club, they would join. This year, after a few MORE people told me that, I just decided to buckle down and start one. Our first meeting, which took place on September 14th, was a raging success, with more than thirty people filling the classroom I’d reserved to hear me give my elevator pitch for the club. After a ten-minute talk, we headed out across campus in search of fall migrants, which we found in the form of a Ruby-throated Hummingbird and several Cape May Warblers. The rest is history. I put on twelve meetings this year, and led twelve outings as well. I made sure that our meetings were diverse, with some days featuring guest lectures about bird jobs or indoor bird scavenger hunts and others pitting club members against each other in Bird Jeopardy. My personal favorite was a thirty-minute talk I gave on everything wrong with the state birds, and we finished out the year last Thursday with a movie night featuring The Big Year. Our outings, highlighted by one trip to Sebasticook Lake and another to the coast, tallied ninety total species, including Sandhill Cranes and an American Goshawk, which both became “Bird of the Day” on their respective trips. Overall, starting a Birding Club was one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever done and I can’t wait to jump back into it next fall—after I’ve returned from studying abroad in Costa Rica!

**Quizzing the UMaine Birding Club on bird vocalizations!**

So that’s a wrap, people. Braden and I want to thank you for tuning in and sharing your enthusiasm with us, and we hope that 2024 brings you a rewarding year of seeing, learning about, and protecting the animals we all love.

Oregon Birding Grandeur at Smith Rock State Park

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To help usher you into a (hopefully) fun and festive holiday week, we’re pleased to present our second guest post by FSB’s Oregon field correspondent, Roger Kohn. Roger recently retired from a storied career of government service, giving him much more time to pursue his birding passions with his birding wife, Claudia. Here, he takes us to a place Braden and I have never visited—Smith Rock State Park.

You all lead busy lives, so why not take a break to embark on a vicarious adventure with me to one of central Oregon’s most beautiful places?

Eager for some epic scenery and inspiration before the snow flies and temperatures plummet, my wife, Claudia, and I drove 40 minutes north of Bend to Smith Rock State Park last week. After snagging a parking spot (a blood sport at this uber-popular park), we were greeted by a few Black-billed Magpies — with their bold black, white, and blue markings and extra-long tails.

Walk with us to the rim of a deep canyon and take in the magnificent vista that opens up below you, where the Crooked River wends its way through a rugged landscape of sheer cliffs formed by volcanic eruptions, and hillsides dotted with western juniper trees. With temperatures in the high 40s, it is perfect walking weather as we begin a steep zigzag descent into the Realm of Peregrine Falcons and Golden Eagles. (Alas, we won’t see any today.) Keep some energy in reserve, because what goes down must go back up. Reaching the bottom, we cross the river on the brand-new pedestrian bridge that replaced its old and battered predecessor.

**The Crooked River flows through a stunning volcanic landscape.**

As we make our way upriver, the Merlin Sound ID app (a great tool, but know its limitations) alerts us to the likely presence of Canyon Wrens. This surprised me because while I heard bird calls, I did not hear the melodic, descending call notes that I have learned to associate with this striking wren species. But Merlin was spot-on and in a few minutes we see a couple of Canyon Wrens calling and hopping among the boulders on the rugged terrain above us. With their enchanting calls, long bills, warm rufous tones and gray heads speckled with white, Canyon Wrens are always a pleasure to observe, especially when one of them poses on a rock for a perfect photo opportunity.

**I learned that the call and song repertoire of the Canyon Wren is even more varied than I had realized.**

Continuing our walk along the river, we saw no ducks—at first. But soon a group of handsome Barrow’s Goldeneyes, a reliable species here, makes their appearance, diving below the surface to find food (and perhaps worry about their pending name change, following a recent announcement by the American Ornithological Society that names associated with people are gradually being replaced). The males of this species are easy to distinguish from very similar male Common Goldeneyes because the white patch on their face is crescent-shaped, not circular. As for the females, good luck with that, though female Barrow’s usually sport more orange or yellow on their bills than their Common counterparts. Your best clue is simply the presence of a male Barrow’s nearby. Later in our walk, Claudia focuses her binoculars on one male with a circular white patch. Great catch! There was at least one Common Goldeneye among the Barrow’s.

**At Smith Rock, you always have an excellent chance to see the elegant Barrow’s Goldeneye—with an attitude!**

All around us, hordes of robins make sure we know that thrushes rule. I don’t know what makes this species so successful, but on any given birding walk we see dozens of them. In one location two years ago, we saw THOUSANDS of them. True story.

Wait — did you hear that? What’s that high-pitched ti-ti-ti sound? Looking around in the junipers close to us, we see that a flock of Golden-crowned Kinglets has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, looking all fine and dandy (and they know it), with their spectacular yellow crowns with bold black stripes. These tiny birds can tolerate temperatures well below zero, and will huddle together for warmth to survive subzero weather. They are hyperactive and often forage high in the treetops, so they’re hard to see and even harder to photograph. But today we are lucky. The kinglets flit about at eye level, and I capture a few decent photos of this gorgeous species.

**We lucked out and got unobstructed eye level views of Golden-crowned Kinglets. What a treat!**

The river bends. Colorful canyon walls in shades of pale green, pink, and gold tower above us, rising straight up to dizzying heights. Rock climbers challenge themselves on tough routes, and we see some of them standing atop the highest cliffs, where normally only raptors dare to soar.

Get ready to feel the burn, though, because it’s time to hike up out of the canyon. Pausing at the bridge before our ascent, we get great looks at Golden-crowned Sparrows in a feeding bonanza in a re-seeded grassy area (see recent post, “Zoning Out on Zonotrichia Sparrows”). The breeding habits of this species in Alaska and British Columbia are not well known.

**It’s always a pleasure to observe Golden-crowned Sparrows when migration brings them through central Oregon.**

Up, up, up we go. We stop to rest as our hearts pound, and see a raptor far away, atop one of the highest cliffs on the other side of the river. Too far to ID, but photo processing later reveals a likely Red-tailed Hawk.

No matter how many times you visit, Smith Rock will take your breath away. It is a truly magical place.

Back home, I invite you to sip an Oregon-brewed pale ale with delicious citrusy, floral hop flavors and a lovely bready malt backbone as you bask in the glow of seeing some great birds in a landscape like no other.

eBird Checklist – 10 Nov 2023 – Smith Rock SP – 20 species (+1 other taxa)

All photos and text copyright Roger Kohn.

Fall Birding in Glacier National Park

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Last week, after speaking at the monthly meeting of Flathead Audubon (see post “Birding with the President”), I spent the night with my gracious hosts, Darcy and Rob Thomas, and rose at 5 a.m. for a birding excursion to Glacier National Park. Powered by an egg and sausage burrito from City Brew, I made it to the park by 7:00 and rumbled and bumped my way up Inner North Fork Road. Braden, Nick Ramsey, and I had been here only five weeks before on a quest to find me a Lifer Spruce Grouse, and guess what? I was still on that quest! Today, though, I decided to try a different route, the Camas Creek Trail that leads east toward the heart of the park. I arrived to find the little parking area totally empty and, after strapping on my fanny pack, and slinging my camera and binoculars over my shoulders, set out under a dawn sky.

**Sunrise at Camas Meadow. Need I say more?**

Entering a patch of woods, I walked quietly and raised my senses to full alert. I didn’t want to scare away a Spruce Grouse along the trail, but I also wanted to spot a grizzly bear before it spotted me! Of course, park officials recommend hiking noisily to alert bears to your presence, but for birders this obviously is a counterproductive strategy. Bear spray would probably have been a good idea, but as usual I forgot to bring any. Within a quarter mile of the trailhead, however, I got a good scare.

I was rounding a bend with some trees on the right when suddenly a large shape launched from a branch and spread enormous gray wings. Owl! my brain shouted as my heart hammered, but which kind? The park contained only two large-owl possibilities: Great Gray and Great Horned. I hurried forward, trying to see where it was headed, but failed miserably. Without ever facing toward me, it disappeared through some trees, never to be seen again. My gut and the length of the owl’s wings tells me it was a Great Gray Owl but I will never know. Sigh.

After that startling start, my hike settled down. I reached Camas Meadow just as the sun began peeking over the Continental Divide and savored being absolutely alone in one of the world’s most beautiful places. I got here so early that the birds were off to a slow start. I saw a few flitting around, and Merlin’s Sound ID feature informed me that they were Pine Siskins and Yellow-rumped Warblers. It also told me that the chickadees I was hearing were Mountain Chickadees. Other than that, the action languished.

**Despite this rather poor image, one of the highlights of my Camas Meadow trail hike was the abundance of Yellow-rumped Warblers fattening up for migration.**

Fortunately, that held true on the grizzly bear front, too. I passed some scat, but it looked like black bear poop (smaller, full of berries, less messy), and was old to boot. In fact, I passed few fruiting plants relative to other places I’d recently visited in western Montana—a fact that might bode poorly for possible grouse sightings.

I hiked for about two, two-and-a-half miles, before pausing for a drink of water and, reluctantly, turning around. Fortunately, as I began retracing my route, rising temperatures seemed to lead to greater bird activity. Most impressive were the number of Yellow Warblers. I tallied at least 30, but am sure I undercounted. Their chips sprung from many locations, and I also spotted a couple of Ruby-crowned Kinglets (one boldly displaying its red crown), Dark-eyed Juncos, and Pine Siskins. An occasional Northern Flicker called sharply overhead.

I was surprised to spot this Red-naped Sapsucker in Glacier. I hadn’t realized they hung around Montana quite so long!

About halfway back to the car, I saw a small brown bird flitting about in a bush. Its furtive skulking behavior distinguished it from the other birds I’d been seeing, so I stopped and raised my binoculars, waiting for a clear look. It took a few moments, but it finally showed itself—a Lincoln’s Sparrow! One day, Braden and I will have to list our Top 10 Favorite Sparrows, but for me, Lincoln’s is Number One. Not only does it display a gorgeous, subtle color palette, it seems to have a more curious, delightful nature than other sparrows. When Braden and I began birding almost a decade ago, a Lincoln’s Sparrow was the first sparrow that really made a big impression on me. We devoted several outings to the chase before finally seeing one, so maybe its uncommonness also has something to do with my ranking.

**This delightful Lincoln’s Sparrow captured “Bird of the Hike” honors for my visit to Camas Meadow.**

After spending a few minutes with Mr. Lincoln’s, I continued hiking. A Red-naped Sapsucker surprised me. Then, I heard a series of eerie whooping noises that reminded me a bit of an Osprey. “What the heck?” I muttered. Then I saw it: a Canada Jay swooping in for a landing high in a nearby tree. A couple of other CAJAs also appeared. The jays, one of my favorite corvids, always delight with their antics and these provided a great way to wrap up my hike. Yes, I had once again missed a Spruce Grouse, but I’d gotten a good sense for what’s going on with the birds in Glacier this time of year. That was invaluable knowledge in my continuing education as a birder. It also happened to make a real contribution to science in the park.

**I had no idea what was making that eerie looping call—until I saw this Canada Jay fly to a nearby treetop.**

Returning home, I looked up how many eBird checklists have been posted for Camas Creek Trail in the fall. To my astonishment, mine was only the second ever checklist for September! (The other list, from later in the month, noted only three species.) A couple of lists have been posted later, but my own provides the only eBird data for this interesting time of year. Now I know this sounds like boasting, but I mention it to emphasize two important facts:

Even though birding has been around a long time, HUGE gaps remain in what we know about almost every bird species, its movements, and habits.
Your citizen science contributions matter. Sometimes it’s a pain or inconvenient to post what you see on eBird, but you just never know when you will be providing crucial information to a scientist or policy expert wanting to learn something new or make an important decision.

And really, could it get any better? Contributing to knowledge while being out having a great time? I don’t think so. Just keep an eye out for those grizzly bears.

Birding with the President

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One of the fun parts of being a birder and a writer is being invited to speak to other groups of birders. This often entails travel to fun new locations and the opportunity to meet many wonderful people. Earlier this week, I had one such exceptional experience when I was invited to go birding with the President . . . of the Flathead Audubon Society.

Oh, did the title of this blog lead you to believe I got to bird with President Joe Biden? If so, I had no intention of misleading you. But no offense to Joe, I probably had much more fun birding with Flathead Audubon’s president, Darcy Thomas, and her husband, Rob. Flathead Audubon is one of the most active Montana Audubon chapters, serving both as a focal point for birders and bird science and conservation in northwest Montana. It has been involved in a number of invaluable projects including the Jewel Basin Hawk Watch and vital conservation and education projects in and around Kalispell. As the chapter’s new president, Darcy is employing her great energy and enthusiasm to keeping the group flying forward. (Find out more by visiting https://flatheadaudubon.org/.)

**La Presidente, herself: Darcy Thomas of the Flathead Audubon Society.**

Darcy and I had planned for me to speak to her chapter members Monday night, so I rose early that day and headed toward Kalispell to sneak in a day of birding with Darcy before my talk. My expectations were rather low as many species had already migrated through Montana, and high water in lakes and ponds made shorebirds unlikely. Still, I welcomed the chance to bird with Darcy on her own turf, and maybe learn some great new places to visit in the Kalispell area.

**Although I arrived at Duck Road with low expectations, the Savannah Sparrows put on a sparrow show like I had never experienced.**

On my drive up, I decided to make a quick stop at Duck Road just above Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge. Over the years, this rural gravel road has been one of Braden’s and my favorite places to bird. We’ve observed about 100 species there including Sandhill Cranes, the occasional shorebird, and tons of raptors including my personal favorite, Short-eared Owls (see our post “250 Montana Birds or Bust!”). Today, the first thing I noticed were sparrows flitting everywhere. We usually get a few here, but today I seemed to pass a mini-flock every couple hundred yards. I pulled over for a closer look and discovered that they were Savannah Sparrows, obviously in mega-migration numbers. Driving about five miles, I counted more than 200 of these delightful critters. I also was surprised to hear a pair of Sandhill Cranes in the distance along with a Western Meadowlark enjoying our late warm weather. Rounding out the list: a Lesser Yellowlegs, an American Pipit, and a pair of especially charismatic Northern Harriers.

Northern Harriers rarely perch for a snapshot, but this beauty gave me a few seconds to record just how gorgeous they are. Note the “dish” or “cup” around the eye. Like many owls, Northern Harriers often hunt by sound, and the dishes help focus the tiniest sounds to the birds’ ears as they patrol fields and marshes.

I rendezvoused with Darcy in Somers, famous for being where Braden and I saw both our Lifer Snowy Owl (see our post “A Quest for Snowy Owls”) and Lifer Gyrfalcon (see our post “Payin’ Raptor Dues, Reapin’ Raptor Rewards”). I had told Darcy I was especially keen on finding shorebirds, and we hit one spot only to find it completely dry. Next, however, Darcy took me to Split Pond, where I picked up my first Horned Grebe of the Year. After that, we took scenic backroads over to Creston Wetlands, where birders had recently seen an extremely rare Montana visitor, a Hudsonian Godwit. Alas, the godwit had moved on, but the best part of our day was yet to come . . .

**Once again, if only eBird had a place to record mammals, this rare pygmy hippo sighting would have helped make Darcy and me famous!**

After collecting my trusty minivan, I followed Darcy back to her house, where her husband Rob had made us the perfect snack—tuna sliders! That fortified the three of us as Rob drove us to a Kalispell hotspot I’d always wanted to visit, the West Valley Ponds. About half a dozen ponds actually fill the area, but the road passes three major ones, and the first thing I learned is that in fall, the place becomes Sandhill Crane Central! Darcy told me that up to 500 or more cranes gather here to feed up on grain dropped in the surrounding farmers’ fields before they migrate south. At first, we saw only a handful, but the more we focused, the more cranes we saw! It was a real treat, and by far the most Sandhill Cranes I’d ever seen in one place in Montana.

**As we kept sharpening our focus, Sandhill Cranes seemed to appear everywhere in and around West Valley Ponds.**

Ducks are tough these days as they are in their generic “intermolt plumage”, but we managed to ID all three teals and American Wigeons, along with a quartet of Trumpeter Swans. As we were rounding a curve, though, I said, “Stop. Stop. Stop”, and as Rob pulled up, Darcy and I got our binoculars on a small bird wagging its tail and playing in a nearby puddle. “American Pipit!” I exclaimed. Though I’d seen one earlier in the day at Ninepipe, that had been at a distance, and I never get enough of these birds. They breed up in high alpine meadows and, in fact, Braden and I had seen my first high-altitude pipit at Logan Pass only a month ago. It was nice to see one down in the valley before it begins its fall migration to Arizona, Mexico, or even farther south.

I wondered if I would see an American Pipit today—and was not disappointed. The birds are gracing our lowlands as they migrate from their high-altitude breeding sites to their overwintering grounds farther south. **This was my first of two for the day, on Duck Road.**

Darcy and Rob saved the best for last. As we pulled up to the final pond, we climbed out to admire a mix of waterfowl and a flock of about 300 Red-winged and (at least) 4 Yellow-headed Blackbirds in a large bunch of cattails. Suddenly, a dark streak caught the corner of my eye. “Falcon!” I yelled and the three of us watched enthralled as the bird shot straight toward the cattails. All 300 of the blackbirds frantically took flight, some in the same direction the falcon was flying. We saw the falcon twist and turn trying to nab one, but at least this time, the blackbirds got the better of it.

**West Valley Ponds are one of the Kalispell area’s most productive and scenic places to bird—but today, they were also the site of a daring Peregrine Falcon attack!**

By this time you’re probably asking, But what kind of falcon was it? Often, I am unsure in these situations. Falcons appear and fly off so quickly that it’s sometimes difficult to get any kind of look. Darcy and I agreed, however, that this bird’s dark slate wings, large size, and powerful flight left no doubt that it was a Peregrine—my 237^th Montana bird for 2023. It was a great way to wrap my birding afternoon with the President, and provided a perfect prelude to my evening visit with the fun folks at Flathead Audubon.

Crane 1: “Hey, what’s Bernie doing over there in front of that hay bale?”
Crane 2: “Think we ought to go check it out?”
**Crane 3: “Heck yeah!”**

July Shorbs & Other Surprises

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Here, as we’re about to roll into September, I finally have time to fill in a bit of the rest of our summer birding shenanigans. Those of you who have followed our blog may have gleaned that we don’t generally put much effort into our late July birding. The reasons aren’t too hard to uncover. By late July, most birds have stopped singing, rendering them much more difficult to find and identify. Meanwhile, shorebird migration season hasn’t really hit full stride. In short, there’s very little low-hanging birding fruit to draw us into the field.

**A cooperative Alder Flycatcher on Bellview Road near Choteau.**

What did draw us out in late July, however, was the presence of our friend Nick Ramsey passing through Missoula for a few days. With Braden home, and Nick also in Missoula, we really had no choice but to embark on a birding adventure. We decided on a two-night/three-day trip, and headed out on Friday, July 28 curious about what we would find. Having already birded a lot this summer, I let “the boys” decide what they’d like to see, and both had been sorely missing prairie birds, so we pointed the trusty minivan toward Great Falls.

Our adventure started out promisingly when we saw Black Terns near Brown’s Lake and heard a Northern Waterthrush—along with a host of other species—next to the road past Lincoln. After hitting Benton Lake NWR at the height of breeding season in June (see post “Festival Report: Wings Across the Big Sky 2023”), I wondered what might await us there, and to my delight, almost everything I’d seen in June now presented itself almost two months later. These included Long-billed Curlews, Upland Sandpipers, Sharp-tailed Grouse, and gobs and gobs of adorable baby Eared Grebes.

https://ebird.org/checklist/S145834937

Eared Grebes with their babies put on a real show at Benton Lake. . .

Time was a-wastin’, so after a couple of wonderful hours, we sped to our next destination, Freezeout Lake. You may recall that I saw my first Montana American Bittern there only two months ago, but today started out a little slow. As we continued driving, though, the species kept piling up. It hit its climax when we stopped at “Pond 4”, on the opposite side of the highway from the main, large ponds. Here, we stumbled into a wonderful assortment of shorebirds. “But you said shorbs hadn’t started migration yet,” I can hear you all saying. Well, guess what? I was wrong. Deal with that!

The shorbs in front of us included Baird’s and Least Sandpipers, Wilson’s and Red-necked Phalaropes, Spotted and Solitary Sandpipers, yellowlegs, and a nice bunch of dowitchers. Speaking of, Braden and Nick “liked” one or two of these for Short-billed Dowitchers, an elusive species in Montana, but notoriously hard to identify. It wasn’t until another bird flew in, scaring the flock away that the boys confirmed a “shorty” by call in the flock!

**I know, lousy photo, but this Sandhill Crane family at Freezeout reminded me of camels crossing the Sahara!** **Franklin’s Gulls, not vultures, lurk in the background.**

But wait, that’s not all. As we were admiring all of the other birds, an American Bittern flew in and settled next to the cattails only fifty yards from us! Here, Braden and I had gone almost a decade without seeing one, and this marked my second visual sighting in one summer!

But wait, that’s not all. After the AMBI flew away again, a Prairie Falcon screamed over the pond, flushing every bird out there. We got amazing looks, and with his new camera, Nick captured incredible photos! To see some of them, look at our checklist:

https://ebird.org/checklist/S145853272

Our day hadn’t finished, either. After leaving Freezeout, we trundled up Bellview Road to find Thick-billed Longspurs, Alder Flycatchers, Veerys, and more. Finally, exhausted, we made our way to East Glacier, where I’d booked a hotel for two nights. Since leaving Missoula, we’d recorded more than 110 species—and our trip was only a third over! Alas, fall is settling in as I write this so I probably won’t get around to blogging about the rest of our adventure, but if you want an idea what we did the next two days, please revisit my post “In Search of the Wily White-tailed Ptarmigan, 2022!”