Category Archives: Winter Birding

Pocatello or Bust

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In our last post, I gave the background story of my newest book, Waiting for a Warbler. The irony is that even as I posted it, Braden and I, like many of you, were impatiently waiting for warblers and other spring migrants to show up—so much so that we jumped the gun and leaped into our intrepid minivan for a 1,000-mile road trip. The trip’s main impetus was to hear Boreal Owls after dusk at Lost Trail Pass on the Montana/Idaho border, and things started well as we picked up an uncommon Eurasian Wigeon near Lee Metcalf NWR on the way down. Alas, despite spending two hours hitting the ski area parking lot and various locations along highway 43, we heard not a single bird—this, despite our friend Nick hearing FIVE Boreal Owls several years ago. Disappointed, but not shocked, we proceeded to Wisdom to spend the night at the comfortable Pioneer Mountain Lodge.

**Totally unexpected, this was perhaps our closest look ever at one of our favorite winter birds, American Tree Sparrows, right alongside the road in Wisdom, MT.**

Before heading south the next morning, we decided to do a quick tour of Wisdom and were fortunate to spot American Tree Sparrows and a Northern Shrike. Along the highway, our luck continued with great raptor looks, including a ginormous Great Horned Owl sitting on a mile marker next to the road! At the ghost town of Bannack, however, we struck out on Sagebrush Sparrows and Sage Thrashers (still too early) and, after “dipping” on Chukars in Dillon as well, decided to head to Idaho for our first interstate birding in months.

We were especially excited to visit Camas National Wildlife Refuge, but when we arrived, instead of ponds overflowing with waterfowl, we found depressing drying mud with a few determined Canada Geese and Mallards wondering what the heck was going on. We wondered, too, and a little research pointed both to a dry year and, more crucially, a lowered water table caused by over-pumping of groundwater by agricultural interests. This is a situation faced by more and more places in the West and national wildlife refuges seem to be particularly at risk as their budgets for new wells, staff, and infrastructure haven’t nearly kept up with their needs (see the Audubon article “Overwhelmed and Understaffed, Our National Wildlife Refuges Need Help”).

**The kind of depressing scenes we found at Camas National Wildlife Refuge are playing out all over the West as human demand for water robs wildlife of essential habitat and resources.**

Determined to redeem our day, we pushed on to Pocatello, where we had a delightful hike through juniper forest and saw our Lifer Juniper Titmice. In fact, these wonderful little birds may have ended up being the highlight of our trip as we got to watch them sing, bicker at each other, feed on berries, and generally make the most of life.

**Both Braden and I fell in love with Juniper Titmice, described by eBird as “Possibly the plainest bird in North America.”**

The next morning we decided to heed Supertramp’s advice and take the long way home through Craters of the Moon National Monument (closed) and Sun Valley. We had a special interest in Sun Valley because another Lifer, Black Rosy-Finch, had been reported there, and as we drove up a long canyon road we wondered if we would again be disappointed as this was the year’s fourth attempt to find this elusive bird. We arrived and . . . no birds. We hung out for several minutes, though, and suddenly heard finchy chirps above us. The rosy-finches! And not just Black, but Gray-crowned, too. It was particularly gratifying to find these gorgeous little passerines both because we’d looked for them many times and because this might well be Braden’s last chance to see them before he heads east for college this summer. The rosy-finches and titmice made the scenic drive home through the Sawtooths especially enjoyable—and a surprise find of a Ruffed Grouse along the highway extra sweet.

**Hard to find at best, Black Rosy-Finches are some of North America’s most beautiful passerines. They nest at high altitudes and, not surprisingly, are some of America’s least-studied birds.**

Payin’ Raptor Dues, Reapin’ Raptor Rewards

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Gamblers and fishermen are famous for being superstitious. Birders aren’t much better. Sure, we feed ourselves platitudes such as, “The more you get out, the more you’ll see,” but deep down, we know that the birding gods control our fates, and that our success depends on whether we’re deemed worthy. In our last post, I recounted how Braden and I spent six hours and two days looking for a Gyrfalcon near White Sulpher Springs, only to endure the gods’ wrath. Yesterday morning, when we set out on a quest for a Snowy Owl, we wondered if the gods would continue to scorn us, or whether we had proven ourselves humble and dedicated enough to curry their birdly favor.

**Northern Harriers and other raptors were abundant wherever we looked. They, unfortunately, were not the birds we set out to see!**

We left the house at 6:30 a.m. and by 7:30 were at Ninepipe National Widlife Refuge, where we hoped to score an elusive Year Bird, Short-eared Owl. We drove the dirt roads for more than an hour and saw more than a dozen Red-tailed Hawks, Rough-leggeds, Bald Eagles, Harriers—even a Merlin. No Short-eared Owl. “Ah, well,” I told Braden. “We’ll get ‘em next time.” Inside, though, I was thinking, “Oh, man. Is it going to be that kind of day? Again?”

Well, apparently, it was. Reaching the Snowy Owl neighborhood near Kalispell, we again drove for more than an hour without so much of a glimpse of a white owl. By now, I realized that the BGs must be really pissed at us. We decided to chase some other birds and come back later, however, and did score our first Gray-crowned Rosy-finches in three years at the Kalispell dump—while getting bawled out by the “dump lady” for our efforts. We also found a White-winged Crossbill among a flock of Red Crossbills feeding on some nearby spruce trees. Nice, but not a Snowy Owl.

**Mallards are no doubt the most underrated duck, but this flock of five thousand birds made a big impression on Braden and me!**

After a lunch at Panera Bread (hey, more chicken in my Napa Almond Chicken Salad Sandwich, please!), including our favorite kitchen sink cookies, we hit an amazing field full of about 5,000 Mallards. Stunning! Then, we returned to the Snowy Owl site, where we encountered several other birders. None of them had had any success, either, but while we were commiserating, a photographer named Dick Walker introduced himself and asked, “Are you the father-son birding team?” We’d never been called that, but I answered “Yes,” and he started talking about the Mallard spot we’d just left. He showed us photos of Lapland Longspurs and, most exciting, a Gyrfalcon he had seen only thirty minutes before!

We tore back to the place, forever hopeful. No longspurs. No falcon. After fifteen minutes, though, a massive group of a thousand Mallards lifted off and seconds later, a sleek, jet-fighter shape zoomed across our field of vision. “It’s the Gyr!” Braden shouted.

**Our first Gyr was a darker bird and left no doubt it was master of the skies. We’ll never forget it!**

Indeed it was. We quickly lost it in the distance and decided to race over to another road closer to where it disappeared. We got there and jumped out of the car just as the amazing raptor reappeared, obviously enjoying terrifying the thousands of ducks and geese swirling around it. While Braden set up our scope, I tracked the bird with my binoculars. It seemed to toy with a large group of ducks, but its madness had some method as more and more Mallards peeled off until only two remained. As I watched, breathless, the Gyr hit one of them and took it to the ground. “It got a duck!” I shouted.

**I was astounded how quickly this Baldie swooped in to steal the Gyr’s kill. It made me wonder how many ducks the falcon has to kill before it actually gets to eat one!**

Its victory was temporary. Within thirty seconds, a much larger brown shape swooped in—an immature Bald Eagle. It effortlessly drove the Gyr from its kill, eliciting shouts of outrage from yours truly. We continued watching the amazing creature for another fifteen minutes before it vanished again. Then, after another unsuccessful Snowy Owl circuit, we began the long drive home. As we headed south along Flathead Lake, I thought about BB King, who often talked about paying his dues, and asked myself why we’d seen a Gyrfalcon here, in the last place we’d ever expected. “Maybe our efforts in White Sulphur Springs satisfied the birding gods after all,” I speculated. “Or maybe we just had to pay our birding dues to see the Gyr.” Either way, it had been one of the best birding days Braden and I had ever experienced—even without the Snowy Owl.

2020 Wraps, 2021 Underway!

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Our loyal followers have undoubtedly noticed that our posts have slowed in the past year. While we have been birding as much as ever, Braden has less time to write as college looms, and I too am busy plotting what I want to do when I grow up. Nonetheless, we want to wrap up 2020 for you and give you a taste of 2021 so far.

**Sneed’s Bird of 2020, the Northern Hawk Owl, a Lifer we found on Braden’s seventeenth birthday. May his 18th bring him as much birding luck!**

2020, in fact, was an epic year for Team Collard. It kicked off with our amazing trip to Israel and Jordan, and once back home we embarked on a mission of seeing 250 species in Montana. For perspective, my previous Montana record was 222 species in a year and Braden’s was 225, so we knew that we had our work cut out for us. Astoundingly, we surpassed 250 by last August, leaving the question, how high could we go? For me, the answer turned out to be 267, and for Braden, 274! With Braden probably heading out of state for college next fall, it seems unrealistic we could equal that number for 2021, so we’ve invented some new goals for ourselves.

Goal #1: to end the year with an eBird checklist in every Montana county. (Braden still has nine counties to bird in and I have ten.)

**2021 has already brought us amazing owl sightings including this Northern Pygmy-Owl near Bozeman and this studious Great Horned Owl in Meagher County, a new birding county for us.**

Goal #2: to see birds we’ve never seen in Montana before.

Goal #3: to reach a Montana Life list of 300 species (currently Braden is at 293 while I am just behind at 289).

How are we doing so far? Even though it is still January, we are making progress on all fronts. Last weekend, we embarked on a thousand-mile, three-day birding safari to the center of the state. We added Meagher County to our eBird list, and added two Montana Lifers: White-winged Crossbills in Bozeman’s Sunset Hills Cemetery and Pine Warbler—a bird that shouldn’t have been within 1000 miles of Montana—at a feeder in Red Lodge. We had hoped to add at least two other species, but the birding gods were against us. The White-winged Dove in Bozeman that has lit up the Montana birding boards got eaten by a Sharp-shinned Hawk about half an hour before we saw it! Or more accurately, we saw the bird being devoured! We had also hoped to see our first Gyrfalcon, but despite searching the White Sulphur Springs area for more than six hours, the majestic predator was a no-show. Sigh.

Thanks to the generosity of Susan Hovde, who not only discovered but has been feeding him, we were able to spend a glorious winter morning with this out-of-range Pine Warbler—a Lifer for Braden and Montana Lifer for me!

Nonetheless, we found a lot of other great birds and met some terrific other birders. In the process, we set a January species record with still a couple of weeks to go. We do not know what the rest of 2021 has in store for us, but we will keep you updated as we are able. In the meantime, we wish you peace and health, and offer our hopes that this year will see some meaningful progress not only in saving birds, but in protecting this incredible planet we all share.

**Though not much to look at from a distance, we were thrilled to see our first-ever White-winged Crossbills in Bozeman’s Sunset Hills Cemetery!**

Collards of Arabia

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We hope you enjoy Braden’s new post about our visit to Jordan. Braden and I know first-hand what a difficult time this is for many of you, and we hope that you are all staying healthy and safe. We encourage you to share this post with all of the kids and educators in your lives to help education continue during these tough months. I have also posted a virtual author visit to the Galapagos as another resource for teachers, librarians, and kids. It can be found on my YouTube Channel. Please feel free to share this as well. Most of all, keep birding!

Frigid wind raced under our raincoats as we tore across the sand. My dad and I were perched on makeshift benches in the open top of a Toyota (the proud sponsor of deserts, apparently), squinting at our dramatic surroundings as grains of dust flew into our eyes. We turned a wide corner, and found ourselves at a makeshift settlement at the base of a mountain. The truck slowed to a halt, and our driver, Ahmed, helped us get out.

**For a birder in Arabia, a camel is mandatory equipment!**

“Welcome to Lawrence’s Spring,” he said, gesturing towards small pockets of vegetation that apparently indicated underground water. Above us, a huge canyon opened up, spilling boulders down the mountainside. To the left sat a large, black tent where locals and tourists warmed their hands by a smoking fire while eyeing trinkets. Young boys and dromedary camels lounged around, and Brown-Necked Ravens soared above us. After bouldering a little, my dad and I took a short camel ride, with two friendly boys leading our surprisingly tall camels in a large circle. The boys took special interest in our binoculars, just as the guards at the Jordanian Border Crossing had earlier that morning. Thankfully, our binos were returned to us both times.

**The National Bird of Jordan, the Sinai Rosefinch became one our favorite birds of the Middle East.** **Braden got this great shot of both the male and female in their natural habitat.**

We got off the camels, preparing to board the truck again, when a large flock of birds caught my eye. My dad and I had already grown accustomed to the striking white and black Wheatears, of which there were several species, but along with these, several other birds had gathered by the rocks behind the base of the tent. One was an unusual subspecies of the Black Redstart, one we hadn’t seen before, and several bland but new Desert Larks hopped around on the sand. Some of the birds were vividly pink and red-patterned, though! We hadn’t seen these before, and I guessed they were finches based on their thick beaks. I got fairly close, snapping several hundred shots, before our guide called us back to the truck. Upon later investigation, we discovered they were Sinai Rosefinches, the National Bird of Jordan! We’d now seen two National Birds on this trip, the other being Israel’s Hoopoe.

**The sheer scale and color of Wadi Rum will steal the breath from even the most experienced traveler.**

The next few hours, we continued across the desert to various small attractions, hiding from the wind behind mountains each time. We climbed a sand dune, summited an arch and explored two desert canyons. One canyon had ancient Nabatean glyphs carved into the walls, and fig trees sprang up wherever water was to be found. The coolest part of Wadi Rum, though, may have just been the ridiculously awesome scenery. Huge, limestone mountains jutted out of the red and white sands, giving off the impression of massive Rosetta Stones with their unique, melted-wax type look. Star Wars and The Martian, both of which had been partly filmed here, didn’t show off every part of the desert, though. Some areas had rocky ground rather than sand, and there were large patches of low brush in other locations. Unfortunately, this vegetation acted like nets for trash, and we saw more white plastic bags than White-Crowned Wheatears perched atop the shrubs. It seemed the tourists, of whom there were quite a few, did not respect the desert as much as they should’ve.

As my dad and I exited one canyon, we spotted two tiny birds racing from one bush to another. They reminded us of the brush-loving Graceful Prinias we’d seen the rest of the trip, but since every other bird we’d seen today was new, we decided to check them out. Sure enough, we finally flushed them, and took pictures as the pair of sharply-streaked birds ran up the canyon walls like Canyon Wrens. Later, as we sat in our hotel, we identified our photos as Scrub Warblers!

**The birds of Wadi Rum tended toward the small, cryptic, secretive side, as this Scrub Warbler demonstrates.**

We eventually were driven back across the desert to the town of Rum, the only permanent human settlement in the valley. Other people did live here, called the Bedouins: these people, who were traditionally nomadic sheepherders, now made money off of tourism, by running hotels (or at least as much as a tent can be a hotel). Ahmed told us, that if we ever came back, we should spend the night in the desert.

**Bedouin hospitality definitely took the chill off of our spectacular winter Wadi Rum tour.**

Back in Rum, as we marveled at the large congregations of Tristram’s Starlings (black birds with unexpected orange wing-patches), we said goodbye to Ahmed, and went on our way as the guide who’d brought us to Wadi Rum drove us onward towards one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, Petra. It was there where we were to spend the night, and take a tour of the area the next day.

Winter Birding in Israel, Part III: Eilat and the Red Sea

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Our condolences to all those affected by the coronavirus—including those forced to cancel their well-earned vacations. We offer some small consolation by traveling to southern Israel to explore amazing birds of the desert and Red Sea. Enjoy, and don’t forget to share this with your birding buddies. Next week: Wadi Rum and Petra.

After our fabulous day in the Hula Valley, I rewarded myself by—you guessed it—catching the flu. Really. Not my first choice, but after a day in bed, Braden and I continued as planned and headed to Jerusalem for three days. The highlights were seeing a Eurasian Hoopoe on the walls of the Old City and grabbing a new Life Bird, Tristram’s Starling, literally on the Western Wall. Then, mostly recovered from my illness, we headed to more fertile birding territory: Eilat and the Red Sea.

**The International Birding and Research Center (to the left of the closer salt ponds) and nearby Holland Park offer welcome relief to the hustle and bustle of Eilat.**

For those who don’t know it, Eilat is on a major flyway between Africa and Asia and Europe. Some estimates place the number of birds flying through at half a billion per year, and it is especially known for raptor migration. Alas, Braden and I were not visiting during migration, but we still hoped to see some new and cool species. Our first full day there, we caught a cab to the International Birding and Research Center just north of town. The center is on the site of the former city dump and located next to expansive ponds used for salt manufacture. Since 1993, however, the sanctuary has been aggressively rehabilitating the site—something that was still very much in progress when we arrived.

**Without a doubt one of our trip’s most spectacular birds, the Green Bee-eater had perched firmly atop our Must See bird list.**

In short order we were rewarded with a double-handful of Life Birds, including Common Ringed Plover, a pair of Common Greenshanks, Blackstarts, Bluethroats, a Green Bee-eater, Marsh Sandpiper, Rock Martin, House Crow, Long-legged Buzzard, and Braden’s Bird of the Day, a Great Gray Shrike! As a bonus, four Greater Flamingos lounged in a salt pond in the distance.

While there, one of the center’s guides confidentially told us that even better birding might be had at a place called Holland Park, a short mile or so walk away. Braden and I set off through the desert—only to end up at a kibbutz nowhere near the park! Some nice kibbutzniks straightened us out, so we resumed our hot march south along the highway. And that turned out to be a great thing because right next to the road, we spotted our only Hooded Wheatears of the trip.

**This Hooded Wheatear introduced us to a totally new group of delightful birds that we’d only been vaguely aware of before the trip.**

Holland Park. What can I say? I think this may be my favorite birding location of the entire trip. Hiking up a dry wadi filled with interesting native plants, Braden and I quickly left the bustle of Eilat behind and felt like we were in authentic habitat. We found only two additional Lifers—Sand Partridge and Mourning Wheatear—but the Blackstarts, Palestinian Sunbirds, Sardinian Warblers and other birds kept us plenty entertained. And our day’s birding hadn’t quite finished.

Israel’s extensive development of its tiny Red Sea shoreline doesn’t leave much room for wildlife, but these shorebirds found refuge behind a fence in a shipping yard. Center are two Common Ringed Plovers. Lower and Upper Left are Kentish Plovers, with Little Stints in between.

That afternoon, Braden cajoled me into taking a walk from our hotel along the Red Sea so that we could look for White-eyed Gulls. We found them, but also happened upon a huge group of Kentish and Common Ringed Plovers, Little Stints, and Dunlins huddled down against a stiff afternoon wind blowing up from Egypt and Saudi Arabia. All in all, it was an amazing day of birding—and far from the last of our trip.

All photos and text on FatherSonBirding.com are strictly protected under U.S. copyright law. To request permission to use, contact Sneed at sbcollardiii+2@gmail.com.