Category Archives: Winter Birding

Need Winter Birds? Go Skiing!

To Subscribe to FatherSonBirding—and nothing else—please fill in your email address in the box down in the column to your right. Thanks!

At 6:50 a.m. on January 4, my family awoke and piled into our minivan, looking forward to the white slopes of Discovery Ski Resort near Philipsburg. After picking up my friend Eli, we took off, driving southeast towards the resort and Georgetown Lake, which coincidentally abounded with rare and spectacular birds in winter. During the CBC the week before, Gary Swant informed us that he had spotted both Great Gray Owls and Boreal Owls in the area. So, of course, before we quite arrived at Discovery, we took a short drive along a logging road running through the pine forest above the frozen lake.

Five minutes in, my dad saw birds perched on the road ahead of us, and hit the brakes. We guessed they had to be something interesting. The first two, which turned out to be Mountain Chickadees, flew away as soon as I got out of the car, but the third, a bigger passerine with a heftier beak stayed and allowed us good looks—it was a Pine Grosbeak! In the past week we had ticked off countless nemesis birds (including a Merlin in downtown Missoula on the 3^rd) and this bird proved no exception!

We arrived at Discovery, where no line awaited us, and proceeded to tackle the slopes. The fact that we lived in Montana did not mean we excelled at skiing, so we mostly stuck to the green circle (easy) and blue square (intermediate) runs, though Eli, Tessa and I did try out a very short black diamond (advanced).

At about one o’ clock, we scarfed down a quick lunch, then ran outside equipped with my camera, binoculars, lunch rolls and a bag of birdseed. Two years ago, we learned that the birds around the ski area took full nutritional advantage of their human visitors, and that the resident Mountain Chickadees actually had been trained to feed out of people’s hands! We cast bits of bread on the ground, then took turns holding birdseed out towards the stands of trees around the parking lot. Sure enough, the birds found us, and we each got to feel the tiny, reptilian-esque feet of the chickadees as they alighted on our fingers and snatched up sunflower seeds.

Nothing helps one understand the nature of “being bird” quite like having a Mountain Chickadee land on your fingertips!

Meanwhile, Gray Jays (now known as Canada Jays), Clark’s Nutcrackers and Steller’s Jays pounced on the rolls we purchased from the lodge, the braver ones landing within a meter of our feet. To top that off, we even discovered a big flock of Pine Grosbeaks flying around above us, the males’ robin-like songs weaving through the air.

Alas, this trip prioritized skiing over birding, so we had to leave the feeding fest behind. After racing down a few more runs, we packed up and drove home, with great photos and a new Life Bird under our belts, and more importantly, an unforgettable memory.

We tried to feed these guys some legitimate bird food, but the ski area corvids—including this Clark’s Nutcracker—had developed a fondness for Discovery’s baked goods.

For Birders, Every Year is a Big Year

8 Replies

To Subscribe to FatherSonBirding—and nothing else—please fill in your email address in the box down in the column to your right. Thanks!

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.

We can’t confirm this, but we believe that the American Birding Association paid this Snow Bunting to perch across the road from us so we could all get an up-close look at one!

Lucky Day at Maclay

4 Replies

To Subscribe to FatherSonBirding—and nothing else—please fill in your email address in the box down in the column to your right. Thanks!

As we pulled out of the garage, my dad asked, “So, where to? Mt. Sentinel for rosy-finches? The Gravel Quarry?”

“How about we go look for the Great Gray Owl at Maclay Flat?” I asked.

“Well, okay, even though Maclay always disappoints me—it’s kind of empty.”

This was true—while we had spotted excellent birds at Maclay, including Barred, Great Gray and Northern Pygmy-Owls, it generally didn’t hold up in terms of overall species. For instance, on the day we saw the Barred Owl, we only logged about five species. Dog-walkers and cross-country skiers also loved Maclay, and the number of people might have affected bird numbers.

Fortunately, when we pulled up in the parking lot with our dog Lola, it seemed barren of people—maybe people had other things to do with their holiday break. A thin, fluffy layer of snow covered the ground and trees, and a few clouds dotted the sky. We pulled on our snow boots and layers, then trudged into the forest, our eyes open for large gray shapes watching us from the upper branches.

Our year lists sat within reach of our Montana year records, with my dad and I needing two and three, respectively. I hoped we could get Merlin and Golden-crowned Kinglet today, which would buff my dad’s list. Other birds that topped our Montana needs included Ruffed Grouse, Northern Goshawk (which we had unsuccessfully chased up Pattee Canyon a few days earlier), Gray-crowned Rosy-finches (which we could hopefully nab with a hike up the “M”), Gyrfalcon and Snow Bunting (grrrrrrr). A ski trip could also get my dad Gray Jay.

Right beyond the parking lot we encountered one of Maclay’s famous mixed flocks, containing three Black-capped Chickadees, two Mountain Chickadees, Red-breasted Nuthatches and a Brown Creeper, which was a nice surprise.

My dad and I bushwhacked through the trees and slid down ditches searching for the owl, or any owl. We investigated a stand of aspen near the edge of a huge field that had cavities that should have contained screech-owls, but to no avail. From a distance, though, we did spot a handsome adult Bald Eagle perched on a huge snag.

Suddenly, we spotted a raptor zip out of the trees, chasing a collared-dove. I tore off my mittens and set my camera on overexposed, then snapped as many photos as I could. We’d had a similar experience in this same field a few years ago, but the look had been too quick for identification. This time we were ready.

Our Lifer Northern Goshawk, heading home after an unsuccessful pursuit of a Collared Dove.

The bird sported a long tail and slim wings, and was fairly large—definitely a falcon or accipiter species. Remarkably, my photos showed a slate-gray body and a black eyeline. Northern Goshawk! We’d never seen this bird before, and it was one of our long-time nemesis birds. Finally, we’d gotten to see this rare raptor in action!

Seeing the goshawk definitely made up for not spotting the Great Gray. As we walked back to the car, we finished up the birding with another great mixed flock, including two Downy Woodpeckers. Happy New Year!

Montana Christmas Bird Count #1: Owlservations

11 Replies

To Subscribe to FatherSonBirding—and nothing else—please fill in your email address in the box down in the column to your right. Thanks!

At 9 a.m. on December 15^th, my dad and I sat in his truck in the parking lot of DeSmet School. It was the morning of our first Christmas Bird Count of the year, and we were wondering if we had the place and time right. My dad pointed to a blue Prius driving towards us.

“Those look like birders.”

“Yeah, right.” I said as they turned and drove past us.

How many birders can fit into a Subaru? Turns out, the answer is six!

A minute later, though, the Prius reappeared and pulled into our parking lot—I guess they were birders! In a few minutes, four more cars pulled up, and we all got out and introduced ourselves. The leader of the count, Debbie Leick, whose name my dad and I recognized from eBird, was a cheerful and optimistic woman. We quickly divided into two groups—the harder but possibly more rewarding forest group, and the slightly easier lower Butler and LaValle Creek group. My dad and I joined the latter, along with Debbie and three excited women from Northwestern Montana: Madeline, Laura, and Heidi. Only Madeline was an experienced birder, but they all showed true birding spirit!

We took a quick check for birds around the school, then drove to the bottom of the canyon and parked our cars at a barn, where we picked up magpies, ravens, Red-tailed Hawk, Bald Eagle, pigeons and a Song Sparrow. We then shuttled up to the top of our route and hopped two fences and a creek, before slowly making our way back down the canyon.

The Christmas Bird Count just seems to bring out the birder in everyone! (Photo by Madeline Finley).

The walk, though cold, was fun. It took about two hours to get to the bottom, and birds were sparse. We were in great company, though, and everyone was enthusiastic—maybe too enthusiastic. One woman forgot we were birding a few times and just randomly burst into song or started yelling with unprompted glee. My dad designated himself as our owl-finder—we had done this area four years ago on our very first CBC, and been lucky enough to spot a Western Screech-Owl wintering in an old woodpecker hole in the cottonwood draw. Unfortunately, during our whole walk today we did not see a single owl.

We did see some great birds, however. I spotted a large flock of winter-plumaged American Goldfinches that seemed to follow us, and we added Black-capped Chickadees, Townsend’s Solitaires, and a White-breasted Nuthatch to the tally. We also picked up House Finch and Red-breasted Nuthatch at feeders near the end of the route. Once we got back to the barn, my dad called out a group of eight Gray Partridges flying by!

We said goodbye to the other women, then took one last short drive with Debbie up Butler Creek Road. On the way up we tallied a few Wild Turkeys, hawks, magpies and flickers, but nothing to write home about. On the way down, though, I glimpsed a round shape perched high in a deciduous tree next to a house.

No matter how much you *want* to see them, owls are always an unexpected delight. This guy was only Braden’s and my third NOPO ever!

“Stop!” I said. The bird looked like a fat Northern Shrike, which would be a great addition to our list.

When I raised my binoculars, though, I was greeted with black false eye-spots.

“Northern Pygmy-Owl!” I yelled.

“What!?” was the reaction from the front of the car.

Suddenly, the bird flew—into a convenient tree right next to our car!

Just like the last time we’d birded here, we ended our CBC with a great, tiny owl!