Category Archives: Montana

Dynamic Spring Birding in Deer Lodge

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When life hands you an opportunity—especially a birding opportunity—you’d better take it. We learned that the easy way last weekend when Phil Ramsey, dad of our birding buddy Nick, offered us a two-night stay at the Clark Fork Coalition’s amazing Dry Cottonwood Creek Ranch. Phil couldn’t join us, but on Friday Nick picked Braden and me up in his truck, and off we went.

Thanks to Montana’s abundant spring daylight, we reached Deer Lodge with plenty of time to bird and after a quick dinner at 4Bs, explored the back roads leading south from the prison. Nick’s top target for the weekend was a long-shot, Greater White-fronted Goose, while Braden especially wanted to see his first Golden Eagle of the year. Me? I had my own goal: Long-billed Curlews, a species Braden and I had seen only once before in Montana. Altogether, Braden figured that for the weekend we might pick up eight new year birds while I predicted ten.

This was Braden’s and my first good look at an (intermediate morph?) Swainson’s Hawk and the bird cooperated beautifully, sitting on this post for a full five minutes.

As we drove, we spotted a number of nice, albeit expected, birds: Mountain Bluebirds, American Kestrel, and a scattering of ducks. We also got to observe a beautiful Swainson’s Hawk on a telephone pole—the first real surprise of the weekend. As we turned right, down a dirt road, however, I suddenly shouted “Look out there!” Sure enough, three Long-billed Curlews hunted insects under beautiful evening light. Before the evening was out, we would tally 20 more of these graceful bizarre-looking birds, a number of them dancing out their courtship rituals.

Several pairs of curlews were feeling especially frisky but the females seemed a bit antagonized by the attention. Maybe the males should have opted for dinner and a movie?

Part of the weekend package was a personalized tour of the ARCO superfund ponds with Gary Swant (see post “For Birders, Every Year is a Big Year”). Nick, Braden, and I had been lucky enough to bird with Gary the last Christmas Bird Count, but we were eager to see how spring species differed from the area’s winter visitors. As expected, waterfowl were out in full force—including Eared, Horned, Western, and Red-necked Grebes. We enjoyed Red-breasted Mergansers and Nick spotted a Sora, but the real surprise was the number of loons—eight, all told. “That’s easily the most we’ve ever seen together,” Braden exulted.

We saw at least twenty Red-necked Grebes during our day with Gary—and enjoyed every single one of them! It’s easy to see why.

Leaving the ponds, Gary took us to a place near Anaconda that we’d never birded: Dutchman’s Slough where, within minutes, Braden nabbed his top weekend target, Golden Eagle. Then we noticed three wading birds in the distance and assumed they must be more Long-billed Curlews. One of them was, but the other two were something we’d never seen: Marbled Godwits in the middle of a grassy field! After bidding a fond farewell to Gary, we rounded out the day with one more great score—Solitary Sandpiper in a large puddle on the south edge of Deer Lodge.

We were sad to be leaving the next morning, but an unseasonal snow storm urged us home. On the drive, however, we decided to stop at Rock Creek, the site of Braden’s Eagle Project (see post “Five Valleys, Many Birds”). Almost as soon as we got out of the car, we spotted three more stunning year birds: Chipping Sparrow, Hermit Thrush, and shockingly, Lark Sparrow. The latter two were most likely just migrating through and we felt lucky to nab them as they often prove difficult to find in Montana.

The Clark Fork Coalition’s Dry Cottonwood Creek Ranch proved the perfect HQ for birding the spectacular Deer Lodge Valley.

So how did we do for the weekend? Well, we shattered our estimates for how many new year birds we might see, adding more than twenty to each of our lists. More important, the trip drove home a lesson for every birder: during spring migration, anything can show up—and does! Well, except for the elusive Greater White-fronted Goose! Sorry, Nick.

Five Valleys, Many Birds

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On Saturday, April 20^th, my dad and I headed out to Five Valleys Land Trust’s Rock Creek Property, our truck full of plants and shovels. I had completed my Eagle Scout Project on this property last year. For my project I had planted about 30 native plants in an enclosure, on a part of the property dominated mainly by invasive grasses and the grasshoppers that fed on them.

We brought five cottonwoods to replace dead plants and to our surprise only used three of them—the majority of our plants were healthy! We planted the other two trees inside Five Valleys’ much larger enclosure, where about thirty volunteers had gathered to weed the area around the large pond.

Braden planting a new cottonwood to replace the few winter mortalities in his Eagle project. The project should create awesome habitat for birds in coming years.

As we finished putting our trees in, I heard an obnoxious call. I looked up to see an excited tuxedo-colored bird with bright pink legs—a Black-necked Stilt! We knew it was shorebird migration season, but we hadn’t expected to see anything, let alone a rare Western Montana migrant! On the pond we also tallied three Ruddy Ducks, another Year Bird.

We then put down our tools and picked up our binoculars to wander the edges of the property, where all the best habitat was. At the Clark Fork River, we found a large flock of migrating swallows zipping inches above the water. The main members of the flock were Tree and Violet-Green, but we also managed to spot some rarities: a few Northern Rough-winged Swallows, one Barn and one Cliff! The day was already shaping up to be a rare one.

Lincoln’s Sparrows are always a surprise in Montana, and we were lucky to see a migration pair out at Rock Creek.

Next we explored the flooded riparian area in the back of the property. We had seen a Pacific Wren and several Ruby-crowned Kinglets here in the fall, as well as our first Yellow-rumped Warbler of 2018, so we excitedly scanned the shrubs and trees. Sure enough, movement caught our eye. Two Lincoln’s Sparrows foraged in the brush, another great spring pick-up! As we reached the very edge of what Five Valleys owned, we flushed two Green-winged Teals that had been hiding along the shore.

As we made our way back to the car, I spotted movement in a patch of trees up ahead. Upon further investigation, we discovered a Ruby-crowned Kinglet and a brilliant male Yellow-rumped Warbler, both firsts for the year. They hung out in a large mixed flock that also included White- and Red-breasted Nuthatches and Black-capped and Mountain Chickadees. But the flock wasn’t done. Suddenly, a bright dandelion-yellow bird hopped into view. It danced through the branches in front of us, displaying its light gray head, white eye-ring, yellow throat and red cap. It was our best look ever at a Nashville Warbler!

Rain prevented us from getting any good bird photos, but the birds cooperated for some great viewing!

Back at the barn, we ate with the volunteers, led by Jenny Tollefson, who was also my Five Valleys Eagle project contact. We had put in good work and been rewarded with epic finds. I could only imagine what the property would become when the plants I and others had put in grew up to create even more habitat for the birds of the area.

Birding the Burn—Again!

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If you’ve followed our blog, you’ve probably realized that some of our favorite places to bird are recent burn areas—that is, burn areas that have not been destroyed by so-called “salvage logging.” I first fell in love with burn areas while researching my book Fire Birds—Valuing Natural Wildfires and Burned Forests. The book highlighted the fascinating work of biologist Dick Hutto, who showed what vital habitat burned forests are for more than one hundred bird species. Yesterday, after dropping Braden off for a Boy Scout leadership weekend near Seeley Lake, I decided to hit a burn area we’d visited with Dick last spring—the Morrell Creek watershed.

Burn areas provide outstanding habitat to more than one hundred species of birds. Unfortunately, so-called “salvage logging” destroys the burned forest by removing the larger-diameter trees that woodpeckers and other birds most need for food and shelter.

I had two ulterior motives for going there. One was to scout out a good place to bird with some kids next month. The other was to see one of Braden’s and my favorite birds, the Black-backed Woodpecker. As I was driving in, I was dismayed to find that the “salvage loggers” had already ruined a lot of the habitat along the road, but I eventually pulled over at a likely place to explore, one with larger-diameter dead trees still left standing.

Forget bluebird boxes! If you really want bluebirds to thrive, leave burned forests alone. Untouched burned forests may be the favorite habitat of these birds, providing food, shelter, and safety from squirrels and other small predators.

Right off the bat, I encountered large numbers of two favorite burn species: Mountain Bluebirds and Dark-eyed juncos, who seem to prefer burn areas to almost any other habitat. The bluebirds especially were going crazy. Twice, I saw groups of three (two males and a female, I think) chasing and mobbing each other, sometimes driving themselves to the ground. A territorial dispute? The birding equivalent of a bar fight over a girl? I wondered.

It didn’t take too long for me to hear woodpecker drumming and my heart raced as I hurried through the trees hoping to see a Black-backed. Unfortunately, I didn’t see the woodpecker until it was too late and spooked it before I got a good ID. Curses!

While Black-backed and Three-toed Woodpeckers get more attention, Hairy Woodpeckers are also burned forest specialists. If you have any doubt, just look at how well this Hairy blends in with its burned background. Like the Black-backed and Three-toed, the Hairy Woodpecker is “hard-headed” enough to drill into the rock-hard wood of newly-killed trees for wood-boring beetle grubs and to drill out nesting and roosting holes.

I kept walking through the forest, finding a great sense of peace from the sounds of Morrell Creek splashing below and from the dark, silent sentries surrounding me. Eventually I located another woodpecker drumming, but only snatched two blurry photos of it before it, too, flew away. My photos, though, did show a yellow crown, narrowing the bird to a Black-backed or Three-toed Woodpecker. Unfortunately, it was a crummy day for light and photography and the next woodpecker I saw was too backlit for me to identify. I did see a Golden Eagle circling above and an American Dipper in the creek below. A Hairy Woodpecker also posed for a picture. Finally, as I was about to leave, I heard more drumming. I grabbed my camera from the car seat and chased it down.

Success!

On a high narrow snag sat a beautiful male Three-toed Woodpecker drumming his heart out. It wasn’t a Black-backed, but I didn’t care. Three-toed Woodpeckers, like Black-backeds, are specialists of burned forests and I was delighted to meet up with this fellow—and even more delighted that he’d found a beautiful, blackened home.

Though lighting conditions stunk, I was delighted to finally get a good look at this Three-toed Woodpecker drumming on one of many awesome “drumming posts” to be had in the burned forest.

Nick the Owl Finder Strikes Again!

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When you’re a birder, nothing ever goes according to plan. For example, if you slog through a draw to find a Long-eared Owl, you’re more likely to see a flock of Bohemian Waxwings, or your state’s first record of a Red-flanked Bluetail, or a moose, or anything that is not a Long-eared Owl.

The plan on Sunday, February 10^th was to sleep in. Instead, my dad shook me awake at seven in the morning (which I guess is technically sleeping in, but still).

“Nick found a Great Gray and a Barred at Maclay Flats! We have to go!”

Only an owl can get me out of bed early on a weekend!

I groaned and rolled out of bed, and within minutes we rumbled down the road in my dad’s Forerunner, dodging the potholes who tried to swallow us. The plan was to go the speed limit, but as I said earlier, things never go according to plan.

We reached Maclay in record time, and I texted Nick, asking for details. He responded quickly, providing great photos of both owls, and we trekked through the snow-blanketed forest, accompanied only by the occasional chirps of Red Crossbills flying over. As we passed the fields where we had spotted the Northern Pygmy-Owls two years prior, we scanned the bare trees. Nothing.

Then we hit the huge field in the center of Maclay, where Nick had said the Great Gray was hunting. We followed a trail of footsteps around the edge of it, running into another man that my dad knew, and we asked him if he’d had any luck.

When owls prove hard to find, Red-breasted Nuthatches provide entertaining diversion.

“None yet—but I’ve seen owls here before.”

“You heard about the Great Gray and the Barred here, though, right?”

“What? No, I just came out here today.”

Soon, we spotted two other birders on the edge of the field ahead of us, pointing cameras at the top of a Ponderosa.

“That’s a good sign,” said my dad.

We quickened our pace towards them, and I suddenly glanced up to see something I hadn’t seen in four years: a Great Gray Owl. The magnificent predator of the night’s eyes glowed with yellow fire, staring down at all of the peasants who had dared enter its domain. It wasn’t quite as large as I remembered, but then again it perched high on a pine bough.

Politicians spend a lifetime trying to master a Great Gray Owl’s stare!

As we snapped hundreds of photos, Nick suddenly joined us, accompanied by his stepmom and his dad, Phil.

“Nick!” I said, “How do you manage to find all these owls!?”

“Well, we came out looking for the Great Gray and just walked past the tree that the Barred was in. Do you want to see it?”

“Sure!”

Re-locating the Barred proved easier said than done. Nick had discovered the Barred in a spruce, but we trudged through deep snow, unable to find it. After half an hour, Nick finally stopped and pointed into the shaded interior of a tree. The Barred was smaller than the Great Gray, and much less active, as if trying to merge with its dark surroundings. After spending more time watching both owls, we returned to the car, tired, cold and fulfilled. Things definitely hadn’t gone according to plan!

“Just let me sleep!” this Barred was probably thinking, but he didn’t budge from his cozy roost.

For Birders, Every Year is a Big Year

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At 8:00 a.m. we pulled into the parking lot of the now-defunct Uncle Buck’s Bar in Warm Springs, Montana. The mercury read -4 degrees and we’d just braved 100 miles of icy highway to get here, but we couldn’t be more excited. Why? Because in addition to this being our third and final Christmas Bird Count of the season, it was January 1—the date when Year Counts are reset to zero and all birders begin their lives anew.

How often do Bald Eagles almost outnumber cows? It’s a scene you won’t find in just any part of the country.

We were not alone in our enthusiasm. In addition to Braden, our birding friend Nick Ramsey, and myself, at least twenty other birders stood around sipping coffee and stomping their feet. We turned out in great part because of Gary Swant, a Montana birding legend who led our Christmas Bird Count in Deer Lodge twelve days earlier. Warm Springs was Gary’s main turf as he did bird counts here for a living, monitoring species in the wake of the vast superfund cleanup conducted around the Butte-Anaconda mining complex. What’s more, today Braden, Nick, and I hit the jackpot. After assigning sectors to other bird counters, Gary turned to us and said, “Why don’t you three ride with me?”

I can’t tell you exactly where Gary drove us or I would have to kill you, but suffice it to say that we had a very special day. We drove around a number of ponds used to settle out and inactivate toxic waste from Silver Bow Creek before it helps form the Clark Fork River. Most of the ponds had frozen over so we weren’t sure what we might see, but right away we scored two terrific birds.

“There’s a Townsend’s Solitaire,” Braden called out.

Gary took a look at the bird, perched above a stream. “I think that might be a Northern Shrike,” he said. Just then, the bird moved its head into a better position and we could all see the shrike’s distinct markings.

Our intrepid CBC leader, Gary Swant, tallies species after an exhilarating Christmas Bird Count.

Not ten minutes later, as we got out of the car for a brief stretch, a large fast raptor flew over.

“Northern Goshawk!” Nick, Braden, and Gary all shouted together.

SCORE! Three days after getting our Lifer Northern Goshawk at Maclay Flats, Braden and I got a great look at a second one—and in a brand new year!

For the next couple of hours, we racked up twenty other great species including Trumpeter Swans, Common and Barrow’s Goldeneyes, Rough-legged Hawks, and even some American Tree Sparrows.

After the count, the groups converged on the Anaconda Pizza Hut for debriefing. Our collective total came to 49 species and 4498 individual birds—not bad for winter in cold, wind-swept Montana. Nick, Braden, Gary, and I had landed 22 species, a great start to our 2019 Year Lists.

But our day was far from over.

Find the Snow Bunting! Not easy when you’ve got hundreds of Horned Larks to contend with, but there’s one in there!

Following a tip from one of the groups, five carloads of us headed out to a road just north of Warm Springs and we did NOT regret it. Soon, we came upon a flock of at least 600 Horned Larks feeding in a pasture. Our group broke out half a dozen spotting scopes hoping to find two other species among the larks. It wasn’t long before the calls came.

“I’ve got Snow Buntings!”

“I’ve got a Lapland Longspur!”

Our pulses raced and didn’t slow until we’d seen the birds ourselves. It took about ten minutes, but finally, I spotted the distinctive birds. Braden and I high-fived each other. Snow Buntings had been dogging us for the past five years and to add them and Lapland Longspurs to our Life Lists on the very same day felt like vindication. And if that wasn’t enough, just then, two Prairie Falcons swooped in to harrass the giant flock. Yet another Year Bird!

We climbed back into the minivan and began the drive back to Missoula feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. We hadn’t set out to do a Big Year in 2019, but we realized something: For birders, every year is a Big Year.