Category Archives: Humor

Counting Down Braden’s and Sneed’s Top 2022 Birds

A tradition Braden and I have formed over the years is to make top birds lists after any big trip or, as this year, for our entire year of birding. This probably stems from the many hours I listened to Casey Kasem counting down the American Top 40 every weekend as a youth. Our own “Top 40” lists have diverged a bit since Braden is now on the East Coast for most of the year—but this year we still managed to have a lot of birding adventures together, and so have a lot of common birds on our list. It’s funny, though, how some birds we might have been super excited about when we first saw them often drift lower on the list. I suppose it’s like being super excited about Barry Manilow when you first heard him—and then realizing you could be listening to the likes of the Rolling Stones, Neil Young, and John Lee Hooker. Anyway, we thought you might enjoy our Top 10 birds of 2022—and hope you might share some of your own!

# 10

Coming in at Number 10 for Braden was the Florida Scrub-Jay, which is remarkably vulnerable in Florida, but Braden got to see with his birding buddy Nick Ramsey on their epic Spring Break Florida adventure. Read about it here. Sneed’s #10 was an unlikely Cape May Warbler—his Lifer—that he spotted in front of the house of his good friends Mollie and Craig Bloomsmith in Atlanta this fall.

**Florida Scrub-Jays are the only bird species entirely restricted to Florida.**

Braden had excellent adventures with Northern Saw-whet Owls while out in California, running into some adorable juveniles while thrashing through the woods during his job with the Institute for Bird Populations. Elegant Trogon finished #9 on Sneed’s list—an exotic bird if there ever was one! And yet, both Braden and Sneed wondered why this bird didn’t finish higher on either of their lists. Probably just too much on the beaten birding path. (Photo at top of the blog.)

**Non-stop birding for his job throughout the summer led Braden to a remarkable encounter with these juvenile Northern Saw-whet Owls.**

Braden’s night car camping (literally) in the Everglades landed Chuck-will’s-widow on his Top 10 while Zone-tailed Hawk swooped out of a flock of Turkey Vultures at Madera Canyon to nab Sneed’s Number 8.

**Zone-tailed Hawks are well-known mimics of Turkey Vultures and often hang out with them—which is where we spotted this one at Madera Canyon, Arizona; only our second ZTHA ever.**

Ah, who doesn’t love a Swallow-tailed Kite—especially one that swoops right over your head? Braden obviously DOES, as yet another bird from his Florida trip snagged a Top Ten spot. Sneed, meanwhile, went with the shockingly beautiful Scott’s Oriole for Lucky Number 7. He and Braden both fell in love with these birds, and were lucky enough to see them several times on their Arizona adventures. In fact . . .

**Braden never tired of seeing Swallow-tailed Kites on his and Nick’s epic Florida adventure.**

Scott’s Oriole grabbed Braden’s Number 6 while Sneed went with Sulphur-bellied Flycatcher, also in Arizona, in a case that he couldn’t quite explain. “There was just something mysterious and intriguing about that bird,” he was quoted as telling a New York Times reporter.

**Though relatively widespread in the Southwest, Scott’s Oriole is a bird Braden and I wondered if we’d ever really get to see—or even if it really existed. It does!**

Unfortunately, the same New York Times reporter caught Sneed cheating for Number 5, as he listed THREE birds tied for #5: Mexican Whip-poor-will, Whiskered Screech-Owl, and Elf Owl. “How can you possibly justify this?” demanded the reporter. “Well, I only ever heard these three birds, but we listened to them on a magical night in Portal, walking down a darkened road. It’s just a night that Braden and I won’t ever forget.” Meanwhile Braden went with his many amazing experiences with Prairie Warblers this year for his #5 spot, seeing them throughout Florida, including the Everglades, in Maine, and during the Collard Family’s epic New York City trip in May.

**It blew Braden’s mind to learn that Prairie Warblers breed in the mangroves of Florida.**

The night walk in Portal also left a big impression on Braden, giving him his Number 4 in the form of Mexican Whip-poor-will. Sneed, meanwhile, went with Red-faced Warbler, spotted just a few miles and a couple thousand feet away—the first, and still only, RFWA the father-son duo has ever seen.

**Another fairly common Southwest bird that had eluded us until this trip, the Red-faced Warbler immediately captured our hearts. This is still the only we have ever seen.**

Number 3 is getting into some Serious Birds, and Braden selected Spotted Owl for his. Not only did Sneed and Braden both see them for the first time in the Chiricahuas, Braden got to see the California subspecies several times during his summer job. Sneed went with his recently self-found Long-tailed Duck—the first male he had ever seen—and one he discovered pretty much in his backyard near Missoula.

**When you find a bird by yourself, it naturally ranks higher in a Year List. Such was the case with this male Long-tailed Duck Sneed found near Frenchtown last fall.**

Braden paid for his Number 2 bird, Long-tailed Jaeger (a second cousin to former lead singer for the Rolling Stones) with repeated upchucking over the side of the boat during his summer pelagic boat trip out of Half Moon Bay. After cavorting with a bunch of Sabine’s Gulls, however, this bird took flight and then passed only ten feet above Braden’s head. He celebrated by once again barfing into the sea. Sneed opted for White-tailed Ptarmigan, just one of the coolest birds on the planet, seen during his and Braden’s stunning hike up to Piegan Pass in Glacier National Park in August.

**Blurry photo notwithstanding (or puking as was the case), this Long-tailed Jaeger flew into Braden’s #2 spot for the year.**

Drum Roll . . . And their Number 1s are . . .

The adventure and thrill of seeking out and finally finding a LeConte’s Thrasher on the east side of the Sierras stayed with Braden strongly enough to make it his Number 1 Bird of 2022! Remarkably, Spotted Owl, which had been only #4 on Sneed’s Arizona Trip list mounted an epic comeback to grab his Number 1 spot!

Braden’s #1 for 2022: LeConte’s Thrasher!

Thanks for tuning in as we’ve relived our top birds. Be sure to click on the links to get the full accounts, and may 2023 generate a memorable list for you, too!

Another Accidental Big Year: Sneed’s 2022 Recap

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FatherSonBirding’s millions of loyal fans will have no doubt noticed a paucity of posts the past few months, and we sincerely apologize, noting the severe nationwide downturn in consumer confidence and the real estate market that this has obviously precipitated. Fortunately, our silence has been a result of good things happening to Braden and me. Braden has been having some exceptional academic experiences during his fall semester at UMaine while I have been kept busy both birding and working on several exciting book projects that have come my way. That said, we’d like to take a couple of posts to wrap up the last few months and, indeed, our entire year of birding. Since Braden is studying for finals, I’ll go first.

Some of you followed my “Accidental Big Year” last year in which I set a new personal best of 352 ABA species during 2021. Believe it or not, I’ve blundered into another accidental Big Year in 2022. How the heck did that happen? I mean, I have definitely underperformed in my home state of Montana this year, notching my lowest total in several years. Fortunately, our trips to New York City and Arizona put me within striking distance. By early October, my count sat at a tantalizing 335 species, only 17 birds short of tying last year’s record, but where would the additional species come from? Some good writing news led to the answer.

This summer, I landed a contract to write about conservation on military bases, with a special focus on Eglin Air Force Base in the Florida panhandle. I chose this base because I spent all of my summers growing up with my father in Pensacola—adjacent to Eglin. Call it nostalgia or a desire to learn more about the area’s species, but I arranged to interview biologists down there to find out what they were doing. First, though, I decided to stop to see my brother in Atlanta, Georgia.

**On my recent trip, I didn’t get photos of my best Atlanta birds, but Tufted Titmice are always a blast to see.**

Honestly, I didn’t know how many new birds I’d see in Atlanta. Migration season was waning, and it was possible warblers and other songbirds had already moved through. In general, they had, but thanks to some intensive studying and tutelage by Braden, I was able to score a number of great birds including a trio of wonderful warblers: Blackpoll, Tennessee, and most exciting, Cape May—a Lifer pour moi.

Leaving Georgia to take up a week-long residence with my stepmother Suzanne and her partner Jim in Milton, Florida, I wondered if I was close enough to top 352 for the year? Unfortunately, I arrived in Florida suffering from my first cold in three years—one I am just now getting over six weeks later. Not how I wanted to begin three consecutive long days of work at Eglin! Nonetheless, I persevered and got a bunch of great information from the base biologists. Oh, and I kept adding up Year Birds! In fact, I couldn’t have asked for a better bird to break my record. As biologist Kelly Jones drove me around teaching me about endangered salamanders, we ran into a group of Red-cockaded Woodpeckers, one of America’s coolest and most unusual birds. These birds became endangered due to the catastrophic loss of longleaf pine ecosystems across the Southeast, but many people have been working to restore both the pines and the woodpeckers. Last I heard, Eglin is home to the nation’s fourth-largest population, but this was the only group I ran into while there.

**Red-cockaded Woodpeckers are the only North American woodpeckers that carve holes in living trees. Apparently, the sap running down the tree trunk helps deter snakes and other potential predators.**

Not wanting to wear out my welcome with Suzanne and Jim, I used the weekend to take a jaunt over to Tallahassee to visit St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge. My dad, a professor at the University of West Florida, led many field trips to St. Marks and always raved about it. More recently, Braden and Nick Ramsey, visited the refuge, seeing among other things a lone flamingo that has lived at the refuge for the past four years. I hoped also to see this bird—dubbed “Pinky”—but kept my expectations low.

**I know they’re common, but I love Red-shouldered Hawks, and this is by far the best photo I’ve ever taken of one.**

Upon arriving, I discovered that St. Marks truly is a magical place—a remnant of “Old Florida” with towering oaks and pristine marshes—and my visit got off to a good start with great views of a Red-shouldered Hawk and Yellow-bellied Sapsucker at the visitor’s center. I asked the local naturalist if anyone had seen Pinky the flamingo lately and she said yes, but didn’t know where, so I decided to head down to Lighthouse Pool and work my way back. As I reached the pond, I happened to glance right. There, in the middle of the pond, stood a large orange blob.

“No way!” I exclaimed, braking to the side of the road as I reached for my binoculars. Sure enough, there stood Pinky—America’s most famous flamingo. Full disclosure: Pinky was not the most exciting bird on the planet, content to just stand there and preen when s/he felt like it. Taking a walk along the southern edge of the pond, however, I picked up lots of other nice Year Birds including Reddish Egret, Tricolored Heron, Short-billed Dowitcher, Semipalmated Plover, and more.

**I’m not sure where Pinky got his name, but to me he looked obviously orange. Still, an official Lifer for me, though I did see American Flamingos thirty years ago in Bonaire.**

My visit to St. Marks was far from finished. As I drove back up the road, I thought I spotted a rail at the East River Pool location. I didn’t—and this was not the first time I’d mistaken a Common Gallinule for a rail! Training my eyes out on the pond, though, my heart picked up. Why? Because way out there among a large group of wading birds, I spotted another Lifer: Wood Stork! Along with Roseate Spoonbills, another Year Bird. My Lifer-palooza hadn’t ended, either. Following Braden’s directions I drove to another part of the refuge to hear my Lifer Clapper Rails.

**This is at least the second time I’ve mistaken a Common Gallinule for a Clapper Rail. I do believe they’re closely related, though, so I hope that you, my dear readers, cut me some slack!**

I returned to Montana with a total of 372 Year Birds and have since picked up a few more, thanks to a fortuitous discovery of Montana’s first Long-tailed Duck of the winter, along with the first Bonaparte’s Gulls I’ve ever seen in Missoula County. These and a Horned Grebe now have me sitting at 375, well in excess of my previous ABA Big Year record. My guess is that I’ll pick up one or two more when Braden gets home in a couple of weeks—though what they might be I have no idea. And you know, it really doesn’t matter. While it’s fun to count birds, it’s even more fun to get out and see them and, hopefully, make some new friends along the way. At St. Marks I met several delightful birders to share my adventures with. I hope that as 2022 draws to a close, you all have your own memorable birding adventures combined with heavy doses of peace and friendship.

My Lighthouse Pool checklist.

**Perhaps my biggest score of the year was seeing the first Long-tailed Duck recorded this winter in Montana—and my first male ever. If this isn’t a glorious animal, I don’t know what is!**

Braden’s Tales from the High Sierras, Episode 4: The Surprising Sierra Spotted Owls

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We dedicate this post to our loyal subscriber—and Braden’s grandma—Penny Collard on her 75th Birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PENNY! We Love You!

In Episode 4 of Braden’s California adventures, he dives into one of the West’s most famous raptors, the Spotted Owl. Thanks to his “sister team” working on this listed species, he shares his first encounter with these charismatic critters and learns about their status in the Sierras. Also see his Big Year update at the end of this post!

Besides my crew’s surveys of Northern Goshawks, the other major species being studied by The Institute for Bird Populations in the Stanislaus National Forest is an even more famous raptor: the Spotted Owl. We’d already met the Spotted Owl team once, and spent a good amount of time with Ramiro Aragon, the lead for the owl crew and the only adult we really had contact with in the field. Ramiro told us that the national forest hosted significantly more owls than goshawks. To wit, it had taken us two weeks to find our own goshawks while the owl crew found owls almost nightly, and continued to monitor them and their nests throughout the season. On the other hand, while our job definitely came with some difficulty, the Spotted Owl workers had it twice as rough. They had nonexistent sleep schedules, and were instructed to chase after any Spotted Owls they detected, regardless of what topography or vegetation stood in the way. Often, the vegetation that stood in the way was Poison Oak.

Fortunately, during our goshawk surveys, we also quickly got a handle on what areas might host Spotted Owls. The owl my dad and I had seen in Southeast Arizona nested in a shady ravine, and that’s exactly what the Sierran owls liked too, despite being a different subspecies. At several PACs we located Spotted Owl feathers, beautiful long feathers with intricate patterns of alternating brown and cream. The day after we found our first goshawks, we were bushwhacking across a hill in a relatively shady area. I had just begun to contemplate crossing a creek flowing in front of me when I heard Ivara through the radio.

“There’s an owl.”

I stopped in my tracks, questions popping up in my brain. What kind? Where?

Both were answered. “It’s a Spotted. Come up towards me, slowly.”

Seeing Spotted Owls and learning that they are probably the most common owls in the Sierras gives me hope for the future of this remarkable species—and the birds that live along with it. You can help protect this and countless other sensitive species by supporting The Institute for Population Studies, The American Bird Conservancy, and other conservation groups.

Soon, the four of us sat on a log in a clearing in the forest, staring at a Spotted Owl perched not more than twenty feet from us in a Douglas-fir. This one, unlike the one my dad and I had seen in Arizona, was fully awake, lazily watching us and our cameras. A pair of juncos hopped around the base of the tree where the owl roosted, and it occasionally turned its head towards them as if the juncos were children playing.

We watched the owl for at least thirty minutes, and everyone seemed to be losing their minds. Sam and Miles especially had never seen one before, despite hearing stories about this near-endangered species for years.

It seems that Spotted Owls are still abundant in the Sierras, thanks to having less strict habitat requirements and no competition or interbreeding with Barred Owls. In fact, we learned that Spotted is probably the most common owl in the higher elevations of the Sierra Nevada.

Meanwhile, coastal Spotted Owls are quite threatened. Instead of requiring shady canyons, they need large tracts of old-growth rainforest, a habitat that has been mostly logged. What’s more, thanks to human disturbance, Barred Owls have spread to the West Coast from eastern North America. These owls, which are cousins of Spotted Owls, are more aggressive and push Spotted Owls out of territories. They also will hybridize with Spotted, muddling the gene pool for this species. As I stared at the owl, it gave me hope that the populations of this species are still strong in the Sierras. With conservation-minded individuals working tirelessly to protect them, let’s hope that it stays that way.

Braden’s Big Year Update: As many of you know, Braden set out to see 400 North American bird species in 2022—a goal he smashed on our trip to Arizona. Accordingly, he raised his Big Year goal to 500, and thanks to relentless birding in California, he now stands at 440. Even better, he will be heading to Santa Cruz for a pelagic birding trip this weekend and if all goes well, he may add another 15 or 20 species to his list. Still, 500 is a big number and he’s got a lot of work to do. Keep reading FatherSonBirding to follow his progress!

Golf and Birding

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Welcome to our new subscribers! We appreciate your interest in our adventures and experiences, and hope you feel free to share this post with others. If you’d like to support FatherSonBirding, feel free to order some of Sneed’s books from online stores or, better yet, by through your local independent bookstore. Thanks, and have a great weekend! Next week: more of Braden’s High Sierra adventures!

Did you ever stop to think that the words “golf” and “bird” both have the same number of letters in them? No? Good. It’s a stupid lead to a blog. Plus, golf is a sensitive subject for me. In my mid-thirties, I began playing with friends and found I quite enjoyed it. Sort of. In between the tears and swearing and bouts of hopelessness and low self-esteem. After my golf swing betrayed me once and for all, in fact, I tossed my clubs into the basement to collect dust for the better part of a decade. Foolishness springs eternal, however, and a few years ago I began a ritual of golfing once a year with a buddy—only to discover an aspect of golf I had never before recognized: Birds.

**Many golf courses’ locations adjacent to wetlands and other natural habitats give them a wide range of opportunity for the golfing birder!**

When I golfed in earlier years, Braden and I hadn’t yet become birders. Imagine my surprise, then, when I got back onto the links to discover that birds abounded—at least at Linda Vista Golf Course, my favorite course in the area (and one that happens to have a great cafe). I realized, in fact, that this course could actually be one of the best birding spots in Missoula. The problem? It is challenging to golf and record birds at the same time, and I have to thread a fine line so that my buddy doesn’t brain me with a 4-iron while I’m trying to figure out which kinds of swallows are circling around us. This dilemma, however, gave me an idea—one that I finally carried out last week: to get permission to bird the course sans clubs one morning before the golfers showed up.

Even with the distractions of actually playing a round of golf, I had managed to record 25 species of birds a couple of days earlier. These had included surprises such as Cinnamon Teal and Red-naped Sapsucker. I wonder what I’ll find with more time to study my surroundings? I asked myself as I again headed out two days later.

Given the trees close to the water, Wood Ducks made sense for the golf course, but Ring-necked Ducks?

Almost immediately, it became evident that there were greater numbers of birds than I had noticed before. The Yellow Warblers were particularly insane with a new one spouting off every twenty or thirty yards—about the distance of a short pitching wedge. This made sense because part of what made this course such a great birding spot is that it was shoe-horned between river and wetlands on two sides and farm/pasture on another. Along with the Yellow Warblers I noted an abundance of Red-winged Blackbirds and Gray Catbirds—but was also surprised by an absence of Common Yellowthroats and dearth of Song Sparrows. Hm . . . maybe they were just quieting down for the season?

**Spotted Sandpipers are always a welcome sight—though I’m not sure the plastic sheeting around this pond made it a great choice for this bird.**

Continuing around to the third hole, I came across several open ponds where I was pleased to see at least seven Wood Ducks, Killdeer, a Spotted Sandpiper, and a pair of Ring-necked Ducks, an unlikely find for the time of year. One of the delights of birding a place that doesn’t get much attention is the frequency of red “unreported” dots that appear on the eBird checklist. The Killdeer were unreported and while I was logging species on eBird, another unreported species, Double-crested Cormorant, flew by. I devoted a good ten minutes to figuring out swallows and quickly noted Tree and Northern Rough-winged. As my binoculars pin-balled back and forth, however, I made another great discovery: Bank Swallows! Braden and I love finding these because they always seem to pop up when we least expect it, and this morning they followed tradition!

**Double-crested Cormorants were one of several species that earned me a coveted red “Unreported” dot on eBird!**

The rest of my birding round yielded nothing that will upend the scientific community, but proved mightily enjoyable nonetheless. While talking to the lone golfer out this early in the day, I spotted a gorgeous male Western Tanager. A Bullock’s Oriole also flew by. Over on the pasture side of the course, Eastern Kingbirds abounded and Cliff Swallows replaced the Bank Swallows zooming around me. I finished the day with 33 species—not dramatically more than I had found while actually golfing, but I had savored every tee, fairway, and green.

**One of the fun things about my round of birding was the number of juveniles about—including this young Eastern Kingbird waiting to be fed by a nearby parent.**

Speaking of golfing, I did notice an odd phenomenon while doing the round with my buddy two days earlier. I actually played better than I had in recent memory. It may have been that I had forgotten my bad habits, but I think that the birds actually helped. One of my problems with golf is that I overthink everything. Instead of just hitting the ball, I am telling myself Remember to tuck in your hip as you draw back or Keep that left foot planted and your elbow straight. With half of my mind on birds, I didn’t have time to do that—and hit some of my best shots in years. The lesson? There isn’t one. Just get out there and keep birding, wherever you happen to be.

Note: if you would like to bird your local course, be sure to ask permission—and it obviously wouldn’t hurt if you already golf that course yourself. With the manager, discuss the best time to go out and stay polite even if she/he/they says no. After all, golf courses generally are money-making ventures and they have real customers to take care of. But speaking of that, I can’t help wondering if any particularly birdy courses have considered charging a modest fee to people who would like to bird them? Especially for courses that adopt green practices such as using less water, pesticides, and fertilizers, it might be a great way to earn a bit of extra income while promoting sustainability. Just a thought.

Braden’s Tales from the High Sierras, Episode 2: Bearly Birding

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We hope everyone had a nice 4th of July weekend. To help you get back into the usual routine, we’re delighted to present Braden’s second report from his job looking for Northern Goshawks in the California Sierras. So far, the goshawks are few, but the other animals abound! To see his first post, click here. Will there be more goshawks? What other surprises will greet his intrepid crew? Be sure to check in on upcoming posts to find out!

The Brushy Hollow PAC lay about forty-five minutes from Beardsley Lake, a man-made reservoir in the Stanislaus National Forest where we’d be spending the next two nights camping. After waking up at the crack of dawn and unsuccessfully trying to snag some good photos of the Black-throated Gray Warblers around camp, our crew began driving the cliffside road up to Brushy Hollow. As we neared the PAC, my peripheral vision caught a large brown animal absolutely booking it away from the car. Stanislaus National Forest was (unfortunately) filled to the brim with cattle–we either saw them or heard the bells hanging from their necks every time we went out. No cow had ever fled from the car this quickly, though, and as I snapped my head back to look I spotted paws, not hooves, trampling the brush before the mammal disappeared into the forest.

“Bear!” I shouted, but it was too late. The bear wanted nothing to do with us.

**Our crew prepares to tackle another PAC in search of Northern Goshawks. But would mammals intervene?**

Again, the rest of the crew missed it, so a slightly disappointed car arrived at the parking lot for Brushy Hollow. The parking lot consisted of a small patch of grass off to the side of the dirt road, and we were greeted by an army of mosquitoes as we stepped outside of our brand new, cherry-red Nissan rental truck that the rental car company had decided to give us for the summer. We set off into the forest, which was only somewhat brushy and somewhat a hollow, despite the name of the PAC. Many of the usual birds greeted us, including calling Mountain Quail, Olive-sided Flycatcher and pairs of White-headed Woodpeckers flying between the pines. As far as ease of travel, the PAC turned out to be one of our best. Mountain Misery—a native, ground-hugging plant also called “bear clover” (foreshadowing warning)—covered much of the ground, meaning we barely had to lift our feet as we followed our transects. Sam and I met up and began walking up a hill towards Miles where we would enjoy lunch. As soon as we spotted Miles, he stood up and pointed frantically behind us.

“Bear!”

“Bear, bear, bear!!” We echoed as we whirled around to spot another bear sprinting away from us down a nearby road. Ivara followed suit, and we all yelled at the animal for a little while as was protocol before sitting down for lunch.

Adrenaline filling our veins, we sat down in the Mountain Misery, slapping mosquitoes and talking about what we’d just seen. Two bears in one day! And then, our eyes darted again to the same road, where two MORE brown bears ambled by, as if on their way to work!

We finished our lunch quickly, heading towards the other side of the PAC. I proceeded to get very lost, then eventually found, and we took one last break on a log before finishing up our transects for the day. As we scarfed down our last snacks, a crack echoed behind us. The sound of a branch breaking. We turned around, and the response was immediate.

**Five bears in one day was a record for all of us. We were too excited to remember to take any photos, but here’s a mama bear staring suspiciously at my dad in our backyard in Missoula.**

“Bear! Bear!”

This time the brown bear just watched us for several minutes, wondering why four humans had suddenly started yelling at it during its afternoon walk. Eventually, though, this bear did turn tail, but not after my adrenaline hit new levels! Five bears was enough, and Ivara called it for the day.

Bear Note: All bears in California today are black bears. Black bears vary widely in color from black and cinnamon to the “brown black bears” that Braden observed. The bear on the California state flag, however, is a subspecies of the much larger grizzly bear. Apparently, about 10,000 grizzlies once roamed California. Large carnivores such as the grizzly, however, were not welcome by cattle ranchers and the influx of settlers following the gold rush, and the California grizzly was shot, trapped, and poisoned to extinction by the mid-1920s. Some efforts have been made to reintroduce grizzlies to the state, but so far, all proposals have been rejected. To read a nice article about the situation, click here.