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Very Unhealthy. That’s what Missoula’s air quality had been pegged at for the last five days, thanks to smoke from the catastrophic fires raging across the West. Braden and I were supposed to stay indoors, but faced a huge problem: fall migration, when waves of birds were traversing the state. Birds we could only see now. What to do? Simple. Go birding.
Unlike our past few outings, we decided to stick to the Missoula Valley, and began by heading out to Frenchtown to see if we might catch a rare Sabine’s Gull or Greater White-fronted Goose. We arrived at our intended water-filled gravel pit and what did we see? Exactly one American Coot on the water. Then, we spotted some action in a few sad-looking invasive trees along the road. We sauntered over to discover a delightful assortment of American Goldfinches, Yellow-rumped Warblers, and Lincoln’s Sparrows, along with a surprise Red-naped Sapsucker, a species we thought would be long gone by now. A duet of American Pipits flying overhead capped off our visit.
Even though Yellow-rumped Warblers are our most common Montana warblers, it’s so much fun to see them moving through in big fall groups.
After an uneventful stop at the Frenchtown Slough, we headed to our main destination, Mocassin Lane. This road is always hit and miss for us, but in previous years runoff irrigation has created muddy pools that sometimes attracted shorebirds. Since we’d had fairly dismal luck in our last few outings, we harbored no real expectations, but we hit the jackpot! Setting up our spotting scope, we identified a surprising assortment of ducks, and then focused in on our real treasure: shorebirds. “There’s a ton of Wilson’s Snipe out there,” Braden said, scanning slowly. “Oh, wait. I’ve got a Pectoral Sandpiper!” In fact, there wasn’t just one, but 17—the most we’d ever seen at one time. It was also the most snipe—13—we’d ever seen in one place. Other delights included a lone Red-necked Phalarope and more than twenty pipits. It was a great chance to study birds we rarely came in contact with, and we spent a good hour enjoying them.
How many shorebirds do you see? This photo perfectly encapsulates how challenging it is to detect, observe, and identify species. See what you come up with—answer at the end of the post!
Our outing yesterday was by far our best look ever at Pectoral Sandpipers. The striped breast and yellow legs are distinguishing marks for these handsome birds.
After our big shorebird score, we thought we’d exhausted the day’s luck, but at Council Grove State Park we again landed amid a great assortment of birds including the Nuthatch Trifecta (Pygmy, White-Breasted, and Red-breasted), another Lincoln’s Sparrow, and a late-season Spotted Towhee. The highlight? A Merlin and American Kestrel perched face-to-face on a bare branch. We couldn’t tell if they were trying to make friends or face off like Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef in a spaghetti western. Either way, it was a great cap to a great day that netted us 55 species, firmly sending us into record territory for September birding. Meanwhile, our Montana Big Year totals now stand at 256 species for me and a whopping 263 for Braden. Take that, fire smoke!
Falcon Stand-off: “A bird with a rifle will win over a bird with a pistol any time.”
Shorebird Answer: Well, I count at least nine shorebirds in this photo including at least four Pectoral Sandpipers, one Killdeer, and four Wilson’s Snipe—with a couple American Pipits thrown in for good measure!
Ever since learning about it, my dad and I have always wanted to attend the self-proclaimed “Biggest Week in American Birding” at the Black Swamp Observatory in Northwestern Ohio. This festival, set in the “Warbler Capital of the World” in mid-May, may be among the largest in the United States and even the world! In recent years up to 70,000 birders have attended the festival, funding (well, almost) the entire Midwestern economy for months on end. The reason that so many birders flock to this out-of-the-way state this time of year is the same reason we drive out to Freezeout Lake every March: spring migration. Instead of Snow Geese, though, the Black Swamp Observatory’s main attraction is passerines; specifically, warblers. Rivaling the giants of Central Park and High Island,Texas, thirty-warbler days are not uncommon.
Flocks of Western Tanagers have been a delightful sight the past couple of weeks, both in Missoula and Helena—and have allowed us plenty of practice with our ID skills.
Unfortunately, thanks to a strike by the BWWLU (Blue-winged Warbler Labor Union), the festival shut down this year (oh, and perhaps COVID-19 played a role?), and our chances of getting a slot next year before I graduate are fairly slim, so it looked like we’d have to find the warblers in our own state instead. This May, we scored Tennessee and Blackpoll Warblers in the east, but recently we were given a second chance to snag rare Eastern warblers: the less well-known but possibly more productive month of September. The first two weeks of September in Montana may be the best time for songbird migration statewide, with Westby delivering large numbers of Magnolia, Mourning and other, rarer warblers to those who make the drive. Across the rest of the state, we can always depend on a few wandering warblers to show up, and this year has been no exception.
A few days ago, my dad and I woke up at 6, planning to drive up the Ninepipe valley to look for shorebirds and some reported Mew Gulls. On our way out of the house, though, a Montana Rare Bird Alert email changed our minds—a place called “Nature Park” in Helena had reported Chestnut-sided and Black-and-White Warblers the day before. Soon, we found ourselves driving to Helena for the second time in two weeks.
Northern Waterthrushes are notoriously difficult to catch out in the open, but this one obviously wanted to show off for the Helena birding crowd!
We pulled into the parking lot of the uniquely-named Nature Park, and almost immediately spotted some migrants: the White-crowned Sparrows and Wilson’s Warblers that Montana fall migration was known for. After scouring the trees and bushes for anything rare for 100 meters, we found a wet impression filled to the brim with members of Helena Audubon, including a few people and names we recognized: Sharon Dewart-Hansen, Kyle Strode, and Pat Grantham. Wilson’s Warblers coated the shrubs, and we picked out American Redstart, MacGillivray’s, Yellow-rumped, and Orange-crowned Warbler, Northern Waterthrush and Cassin’s Vireo among the splendid mixed flock. After talking birds for a while with the other birders (both rare warblers had departed), we headed to Warm Springs and then home, energized by the experience.
Breakfast anyone? Several American Redstarts were putting on a show, and it’s always amazing just how much food they can find!
Today, we were given another opportunity for an Eastern warbler closer to home. I had just sat down for the evening to work on my Calculus homework when Nick Ramsey, who had recently started school in Louisiana, called me.
“Cole Wolf just reported a Blackpoll Warbler in Greenough Park, you should check it out!”
“I’m on it,” I said, swatting my Calculus homework aside like an annoying younger sibling.
I hopped in the Forerunner and was at the Northeast corner of the park before even Cole had been given the chance to drop his dogs off.
“You got here quick,” he said, and we quickly found the bird again high in a Ponderosa. I snapped some decent photos before it disappeared. Upon showing the photos to Cole, he squinted.
“That actually looks more like a Bay-breasted,” he said, showing me the fall-plumaged Bay-breasted on the Sibley app on his phone.
Not being Eastern birders, my dad and I have never experienced the difficult identification of Blackpoll vs. Bay-breasted Warblers in fall migration. As more birders began to arrive in search of the rarity, I picked up some ID tips from each of them on distinguishing between the two similar plumages.
After about forty minutes, half a dozen more birders had arrived, but the warbler had not shown itself. Other birds kept us entertained for a while, primarily a Merlin snacking on a siskin and a particularly tame Pileated Woodpecker, but the passerine pickings were slim. I headed back towards the bridge at the top of the park, ready to head home, when I glimpsed a dull yellow bird with obvious wingbars in a bush next to me.
“I’ve got it!” I said, waving the rest of the birders over. While they watched it hop between cottonwoods and mountain ashes, I called my dad.
“You need to get down here!”
Though perhaps a little drab to other birders, this rare Bay-breasted Warbler was a thing of beauty to the Western Montana birding crew!
He arrived just as the last of the birders headed out, and we continued searching the areas where I had seen it. The day grew dark, however, and most of the birds that had been active earlier had disappeared. Nick, meanwhile confirmed via text that the consensus on the bird on the Montana Birding Facebook page was that it was a Bay-breasted, based on buffy undertail coverts, faded spectacles, and black legs. This was definitely rarer than a Blackpoll, which would have been a treat by itself!
I couldn’t refind the bird for my dad, so we headed back to the cars. In the trees next to the street, though, I could hear chickadees, and I held up my binoculars, hoping for another mixed flock. A Warbling Vireo passed through my vision, and my hopes began to rise—there had been a WAVI with the warbler last time we had seen it! Sure enough, the tiny yellowish warbler hopped into view again, alongside several Western Tanagers, and my dad got great looks! Maybe we didn’t need to travel to Ohio to find Eastern warblers after all.
Spring migration traditionally sparks furious activity by both birds and birders. If you want to see a ton of species, you’d better hit spring migration—and hit it hard. Fall migration, on the other hand, is often pretty much ignored. At least Braden and I ignored it until the last couple of years. Then we discovered that we’d better get our tail feathers out there in fall if we want to see some key species—especially shorebirds.
You wouldn’t think that Montana would be a great place for shorebirds. After all, shorebirds like, well, ocean shores, don’t they? Sure, but a surprising number of shorebird species pass through Montana every fall on their way to their wintering grounds. That doesn’t mean that finding them is easy! Especially here in western Montana, finding shorebirds can take persistence and dedication. We began our fall shorebird pursuit last week with a trip up to Ninepipe National Widlife Refuge, about an hour from our house. We were especially hoping to find a Short-billed Dowitcher, a rare Montana visitor that we still needed for our Year List. And guess what? No dowitcher. I did add Least Sandpiper to the year’s tally, and we enjoyed a terrific visit with a perched Peregrine Falcon, but clearly, (more) desperate measures were called for.
As the Rolling Stones sang, “You can’t always find the birds you want,” but we’ll take a visit with a Peregrin Falcon on any outing!
A few days later, Braden and I left the house at 6 a.m., heading for Helena, where large numbers of shorebirds had been reported during the past week. We made stops at Lake Helena and the Helena Valley regulating reservoir and saw some nice birds, including some pelicans, but . . . no shorebirds.
One of the great difficulties of IDing shorebirds is that they are often far, far away, necessitating hours hunched over a spotting scope. Unfortunately, our scope is not the best, either. Swarovski or Zeiss or Leica, are you listening??? We’d be happy to mention your name in the next ten posts for a free scope!
Heading south, we reached the day’s major destination, Canyon Ferry Lake. After spending thirty minutes on a fruitless search of one area, we finally reached the place hundreds of shorebirds had been reported just two days earlier. Thankfully, a few—a very few—still remained. That, however, was only the beginning of our challenge because this time of year, shorebirds are even harder to identify than usual. Mixed in with adults that are losing their breeding plumage are countless juveniles who, frankly, are a real pain in the butt to ID. Fortunately, Braden had been studying like crazy and was able to pick out Baird’s, Semipalmated, and Least Sandpipers—and a Year Bird for both of us, Pectoral Sandpiper. Hooray—but where had all the other shorebirds gone?
After much searching, we finally located a flock of Baird’s Sandpipers at the Willow Creek Reservoir near Harrison—along with a nice raft of American Pelicans behind them.
We decided to chase them by driving to a place neither of us had ever birded—Willow Creek Reservoir about thirty minutes south of Three Forks—and there, we found at least some of the missing Baird’s Sandpipers that had been farther north before. In fact, we found a flock of 64 of them, along with a pair of beautiful American Avocets. Even better, hiding among them were two “Semis” and a Western Sandpiper—another Year Bird for us! We drove the long route back to Missoula tired but satisfied. Fall migration doesn’t have the glamour and wow factor of spring, but for the patient, it can reap a beach full of rewards.
It takes some real sleuthing to discern and ID sandpipers, but Braden found this Western Sandpiper (center) and the Semipalmated Sandpiper (behind it) among a flock of 64 Baird’s Sandpipers (the other two birds)!
Please follow Braden’s and Sneed’s birding adventures by subscribing to FatherSonBirding.com using the box on the right below. As always, feel free to share this with other birders, bloggers, editors at big high-paying publishing houses—anyone you wish!
Last week, to celebrate the final days of summer, Braden and I did something we’ve always wanted to do: bird banding. This, however, wasn’t just any bird-banding session. We were lucky enough to accompany the team of biologist Debbie Leick, whom we first met during last year’s Christmas Bird Count.
When Braden and I got to hang with them, Debbie Leick and her bird banding and recording partners had a productive morning, capturing thirty birds of fourteen different species.
Debbie works for MPG Ranch, a wonderful operation that supports a host of restoration and academic science. Debbie’s project? To see if she and her crew can count migrating birds by listening to their flight calls with a large array of microphones spread throughout the Bitterroot Valley. Before she and her team can start counting birds, however, they have to be able to distinguish their calls.
Birds in Bags! Birds extracted from mist nets are kept warm in bags while awaiting banding, measuring, and for a lucky few, recording.
Braden, Debbie, and I joined the University of Montana Bird Ecology banding crew at a trapping station up Miller Creek. The team had set up mist nets to capture birds, and when we arrived, the action was in full swing. A Swainson’s Thrush, Yellow-rumped Warbler, MacGillivray’s Warbler, and a surprise (to us) Northern Waterthrush kicked off the bird parade. Some of these were recaptures, as evidenced by the bands around their legs. New or recaptured, each bird was carefully removed from its net, weighed and measured, and released. Some birds, however, got special treatment.
This MacGillivray’s Warbler submits to a thorough health inspection by expert warbler wrangler Sasha Robinson before being banded, measured, and released back into the wild.
When we caught a Townsend’s Warbler, Debbie’s colleague Boo Curry (and yes, no typo there) led me and the bird to a PRS or Portable Recording Studio. The warbler was gently placed in its own soundproofed recording booth and then Boo piped in some warbler calls (a bird’s version of elevator music) to see if she could get the Townsend’s to respond.
A Townsend’s Warbler prepares to audition for Debbie’s flight call library. It passed with, ahem, flying colors.
It did! In fact, it was the team’s first successful flight
call recording of the season. Which just goes to show how painstaking field
biology can be. The work of Debbie’s team, though, has great promise to improve
not only our counting of migrating
birds, but our understanding of them. Stay tuned for more when Braden and I
follow up on their progress at a later date!
Debbie’s colleague Kaitlyn shows Braden how to release a thoroughly-processed, somewhat bedraggled Ruby-crowned Kinglet.
I just completed a five-day return trip from Missoula to Billings, mainly to promote my new book Warblers & Woodpeckers, and I have only question: Where were the birds? Sure, I found some, but with much lower abundance and diversity than I expected. Even at places I’d seen a lot of fall species before, my best lists barely cracked a dozen. I would have notched more if I’d been better at identifying LBBs—Little Brown Birds. For instance, I took photos of a sparrow at Shiloh Conservation Area in Billings and glimpsed another intriguing group at Two Moons Park, but couldn’t ID any of them.
Lousy, no-good rotten sparrows.
Our first-ever Montana Surf Scoter—to be followed by a second one (a female) a few days later.
I shouldn’t really complain since Braden and I have seen some wonderful birds the past few weeks. About two weeks ago, we saw our very first Montana Surf Scoter at one of our favorite birding spots, the gravel quarry. The bird was a stunning black male and just what such an ocean-loving bird was doing in Montana is a matter for debate. Since we started birding five years ago, however, scoters seem to be rare but reliable visitors.
A few days later, I was giving Braden a driving lesson in the parking lot of the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation. After practicing parking thirty or forty times, I said, “C’mon. Let’s grab our gear and go see if any birds are around.” Not five minutes later, Braden spotted not one, but two White-throated Sparrows. Normally Eastern birds, these are real finds for Missoula and can only be spotted with diligent effort—and a lot of luck—during fall migration.
This was only our second location seeing White-throated Sparrows in Montana. A delightful surprise!
Alas, we’ve seen fewer warblers and other fall migrants than last fall, and that was reinforced on my trip across the state. I saw a smattering of good ducks (Redheads, Barrow’s Goldeneyes, and Ruddy Ducks) at Warm Springs, Three Forks ponds, and Lake Elmo State Park. I also spotted a Common Loon at Three Forks, and a nice variety of Western, Horned, Eared, and Pied-billed Grebes in most places I looked. But songbirds? They seemed to totally shun me on the trip.
When I returned home, I shared my photos with Braden. As we flipped through them, he nodded and politely murmured, “Nice. Uh-huh. Good one.”
Until I came to that mystery sparrow from Shiloh.
“Whoa. Wait a minute!” he exclaimed, opening Sibley’s. “Now I’m excited.”
“Why? What do you think it is?” I asked.
There are only about fifty records of Swamp Sparrows in Montana. Lucky me, this one decided to say hello!
“What do you think it is?” he countered.
“I couldn’t decide,” I said. “It looks kind of like a Song Sparrow, but doesn’t have the stripes. I thought maybe Lincoln’s, but it doesn’t have the orange colorings.”
Braden handed me Sibley’s. “I’m pretty sure it’s a Swamp Sparrow. They’re like, Code 4 for Montana.”
Now, my adrenaline was pumping too. “Really?”
We pored through the descriptions and compared it with my photos. Not only did the bird look identical to its description and illustration, I had found it in just the kind of habitat that Swamp Sparrows love.
Maybe fall birding in Montana isn’t so bad after all!
