Category Archives: Woodpeckers

Golf and Birding

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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.

Arizona 2022, Part 4: To Patagonia Lake, Madera Canyon and Beyond!

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This is the last installment of our four-part Arizona adventure. We’ve had a great response to these posts and want to thank you for all of your enthusiasm! Keep birding and supporting birds however you can, and we will share more adventures soon!

We departed our Nogales hotel the next morning to find a gorgeous Vermillion Flycatcher sitting on a bench outside the front door. It boded well for the day as we headed to our first destination, Patagonia Lake State Park, a place featured in the movie The Big Year, though undoubtedly not filmed there. Patagonia indeed upheld its reputation as a great birding spot, and we checked off two more Life Birds—Northern Beardless Tyrannulet and Bell’s Vireo. We also saw Summer Tanagers and got our best experience ever watching Phainopeplas, which sport the ultimate in cool with their silky black suits and blazing red eyes. Alas, we missed Braden’s top target, Varied Bunting—but picked it up at a small rest area just up the road!

**Although we missed Varied Buntings at Patagonia Lake, we got good looks at them at several more sites, including this one at Madera Canyon.**

Our Patagonia Lake checklist!

**We had seen Phainopeplas before, but got to spend about fifteen minutes watching them flycatch at Patagonia State Park—an experience that made us even more impressed with them!**

We had debated what to do with the rest of the day and had considered going for Whiskered Screech Owl in the rugged mountains west of Nogales, but with serious heat and the prospect of rough mountain roads to negotiate, we decided for the more comfortable alternative of Madera Canyon, a place we had both adored on our Big Year visit in 2016. We felt grateful for our decision after we staked out a campsite and availed ourselves of the marvelous bird feeders at Santa Rita Lodge. There we picked up Rivoli’s Hummingbird and Arizona Woodpecker for Braden’s Big Year list, and had much better looks at Varied Buntings, Hepatic Tanagers, and more.

**We feared we had missed Arizona Woodpecker for the trip, but Madera Canyon delivered. We just love the unique, brown motif of this Arizona specialty.**

As we were watching a group of Turkey Vultures, I suddenly saw one make a quick move that didn’t look right. “Braden, look at that!” We both got eyes on it and Braden shouted, “Zone-tailed Hawk!” We had seen one before, but had no idea of their close association with Turkey Vultures. In fact, it looked so much like a Turkey Vulture that it left no doubt that some kind of mimicry or convergent evolution had shaped it. Some speculate that potential prey (birds, reptiles, mammals) feel safe with Turkey Vultures overhead—giving a sneaky Zone-tailed a chance for a surprise attack!

**The “Turkey Vulture Hawk”, Zone-tailed Hawk, looks so much like a Turkey Vulture, we only ID’ed it after several double-takes.**

That afternoon we also enjoyed the company of multiple Mexican Jays and Painted Redstarts at our campsite and, later, heard the calls from the same trio of night birds we had enjoyed two nights before in Portal—along with our year’s first Common Poorwills! Oh, and did I mention Braden’s ears also scanned in the calls of Sulphur-bellied Flycatchers and Elegant Trogons? “Again,” Forrest Gump might groan.

**This curious Mexican Jay kept us company as Braden and I read aloud to each other at our campsite during the peak of the afternoon heat.**

The next morning, before aiming toward California, we had one more task. After rolling up camp, Braden guided us to a place called Montosa Canyon in the same range as Madera. Why? To find a recently-sighted, highly-coveted Five-striped Sparrow. I really didn’t know what our chances might be, but it took about thirty seconds for Braden to locate it, a handsome bird similar to Black-throated Sparrow. As an added bonus, Braden said, “Daddy, look over there.” I focused on a hummingbird and immediately recognized a species I’d read about countless times—a male Costa’s Hummingbird! The Costa’s was superb and we did a little dance, thinking it was Braden’s 400^th bird for his Big Year—the goal he had set for himself in January! We later learned, however, that we had inadvertently seen a juvenile Costa’s at Madera the day before, so 400 would have to wait for California Scrub-jay later that afternoon.

Our Montosa Canyon checklist!

Our first adult male Costa’s Hummingbird!

Many more birding adventures would unfold in the coming days as we made our way to San Diego to visit our cousin Laura, and then drove up to the Sierras to deliver Braden to his job monitoring Northern Goshawks for the summer. Sadly, from there I would continue home alone, hitting Modoc National Wildlife Refuge in Alturas and spending a fun three days with my friend and college roommate—not to mention avid reader of FatherSonBirding—yes, you guessed it, Roger Kohn. Roger showed me some of his favorite hotspots around his new home of Bend—and spotted a bird I especially wanted to see, White-headed Woodpecker. He also showed me the delights of Bend’s many brew pubs, but that, unfortunately, concludes this tale. Stay tuned for many more adventures including my recent fabulous birding in Billings and beyond, and Braden’s report(s) from the High Sierras. Who knows, I might even do some more truck birding this summer! Also stay tuned for more progress on Braden’s Big Year. After he hit 400 on our trip, I pushed him to reluctantly lift his target to 450—but between you and me, I think 500 has a much nicer sound to it. Will he go for it? I think he just might!

Braden’s Big Year total when I dropped him off near Sonora, California: 411 (New Goal: 450)

**On my way home to Montana, my good friend Roger Kohn and I went in search of—and found—a White-headed Woodpecker. Don’t you love this critter?**

Arizona 2022, Part 3: Trogons & Border Walls

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After our almost magical previous day, Braden and I debated spending a second day and night in Portal. However, Braden had to be at his job in the Sierras in only five days, and we were already dropping some desirable hotspots from our visit list, so we “bit the birdseed” and packed up camp. Before we left the Chiricahuas, though, we had a major mission: to see one of America’s most sought-after birds, the Elegant Trogon. To be honest, I had seen trogons—including the famed Resplendent Quetzal—in Costa Rica, and Braden and I had both seen trogons again in Ecuador, although not the Elegant. The idea that this very exotic-looking bird actually bred in the U.S., however, made the quest almost irresistible. Fortunately, the trogon hangouts along Cave Creek are pretty well-known as at least two or three pairs breed there. We drove slowly without hearing any and then parked at a trailhead to continue our search on foot.

**Scott’s Oriole was high on our “to see” list before the trip, and it was gratifying to see them several times on our trip!**

Almost immediately, we scored a great look at a brilliant male Scott’s Oriole, and not long afterward, our first good looks at Sulphur-bellied Flycatcher, a bird that immediately shot to the top of my favorite flycatcher list for its unique, bold looks and elusive behavior. We’d gone about half a mile, playing leapfrog with other trogon-hunters, when we heard a distinctive barking call behind us. “That’s it!” Braden exclaimed and I chased him back down the trail to find that the bird was easier to hear than see. I was creeping through some brush when Braden motioned vigorously. “Daddy, look up!” I did—to find myself staring at an orange-and-white butt. I quickly crept out to where Braden stood and, sure enough, there perched the trogon in full glory. The bird sat in a way not conducive to great photos, but we were nonetheless thrilled, and Braden went to retrieve the other trogon-hunters, who “oohed” and “ahed” appropriately.

**Well, this photo won’t win me a Pulitzer, but you can tell why this is the bird that comes up most often in Arizona birder conversation!**

After a quick stop at one of the town’s feeder stations, we left Portal via New Mexico and headed toward our next Arizona destination, paralleling the border. Seeing the border again after six years proved a shock. When we had visited in 2016, the border remained “wall-free”. We had observed low vehicle barriers and perhaps some barbed wire, but little that would impede wildlife. This time it was a much different story as an ugly steel barrier stretched from horizon to horizon, an all but impenetrable obstacle erected with little or no thought to the many animals that migrate back and forth through the desert. That, of course, is not to mention the human toll of the wall and the dishonest politics of blame and xenophobia that led to its creation.

The newly-erected border wall not only prevents normal movements of myriad animal species—with potentially devastating impacts—it divides historically connected communities and fuels horrible relations with a country we benefit greatly from.

Pushing on, we stopped for lunch in Sierra Vista, by-passing world-famous Ramsey Canyon (sorry, Nick!), and proceeded to a destination highlighted in the movie The Big Year: Patagonia. By now, our first real Arizona heat had begun to set in, but we stopped twice, first at the Arizona Birding Tours feeders and then at the wonderful oasis of Tucson Audubon’s Paton Center for Hummingbirds. And yes, we did see hummingbirds! Violet-crowned and Broad-billed were the stars, but Anna’s and Black-chinned also availed themselves of our attention.

**We generally had poor luck capturing the glorious colors of our new Lifer hummingbirds, but at least this Violet-crowned posed nicely for us at Patagonia’s Paton Center for Hummingbirds.**

Both locations also proved a magnet for other Arizona staples including Gila and Ladder-backed Woodpeckers; Blue Grosbeaks; Bewick’s Wrens; Hooded Orioles; and most surprising, Yellow-breasted Chat. However, by late mid-afternoon, the effects of four days of non-stop travel and birding were starting to tell on us, and we decided to take the night off at an air-conditioned hotel in nearby Nogales. We needed the rest, and we also had to make an important decision—how to spend our last full day in Arizona!

Braden’s Big Year Count at the end of the day: 386! (Beginning of year goal: 400)

**One thing we learned on this trip is that Gila Woodpeckers do not always sit posed on top of a perfect saguaro cactus!**

Arizona 2022, Part 1: Braden’s Big Year or Bust

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It’s been a while since we posted, and that’s no accident. When Braden landed a field job monitoring Northern Goshawks in California’s Sierras for the summer, I impulsively offered to drive him there—via Arizona and Southern California. We had wanted to return to Arizona since falling in love with the state during our Big Year in 2016. The fact that Braden was out to smash his own Big Year record with a goal of 400 species made the argument even stronger, especially after he and Nick Ramsey had ransacked the state of Florida only weeks before, followed by our amazing time birding New York City. So on May 22, rashly ignoring the price of gasoline, Braden and I made a beeline down Interstate 15, pulling over to pick up Thick-billed Longspurs near Dillon, Sage Thrashers and Rock Wrens in southern Idaho, and Burrowing Owls and phalaropes at Antelope Island near Salt Lake City. After a short, peaceful night in Kanab and a stop to ogle the rapidly disappearing Lake Powell, we rolled into Phoenix for our first major Arizona stop of the trip: Prospector Park, east of Phoenix.

**We found Rock Wrens at a delightful I-15 rest area of lava called Hell’s Half Acre in southern Idaho. Don’t pass it up!**

As usual, Braden ferreted out our hotspots for the trip and Prospector Park blew away all expectations. An unlikely-looking suburban park with playing fields and lots of lawn, we tumbled out of the car and began racking up Life Birds before we could utter “Holy Bird, Batman!” As soon as he raised his binoculars to his eyes, Braden called out “Abert’s Towhee!” Five minutes later, “Gilded Flicker”—the last ABA woodpecker I needed for my Life List. This was not to mention the gobs of Year Birds Braden needed to advance toward his magic 400 number. In fact, one of the great things about Arizona is that for Montanans, almost every bird we see is likely to be a Year Bird. Verdin, Ladder-backed and Gila Woodpeckers, Vermillion Flycatcher, Lucy’s Warbler, Gambel’s Quail, Curved-billed Thrasher—and another Lifer, Bendire’s Thrasher. For a birder, Arizona truly is a pot ‘o gold.

**Gilded Flicker was a species I had needed for several years to complete my ABA woodpecker list. Okay, I admit it—not the most exciting critter, but we both enjoyed seeing it nonetheless.**

Not for the first time, one of our most fun finds turned out not to be a native species, but an exotic. We were completing our circuit around the park when we noticed a group of (I think) Mennonite birders staring at something in the grass. We couldn’t tell what they were until green shapes flew over to another patch of grass. “Rosy-faced Lovebirds!” Braden called with delight. It was a species he had especially hoped to see—and another Lifer for both of us. We spent a satisfying fifteen minutes just watching these little guys as they gathered grass seed heads—presumably to eat, but perhaps also for nesting material.

Introduced parrots such as these Rosy-faced Lovebirds always stir conflicting emotions in Braden and me. I mean, they *definitely* don’t belong here, but dang it, why do they have to be so darned cute?

But we had miles to go before we slept, so we reluctantly climbed back in the car for that night’s destination, Safford, where we checked into a cheap motel—only to find bed bugs hiding under the mattress. After quickly getting a refund, we headed to a pricier, bed-bug free place down the street (and yes, we checked the mattresses there, too!) for a welcome, but short night’s sleep. Our two-day, 1270-mile drive had already netted us five Life Birds and raised Braden’s Big Year total from 322 to 345 species—and we hadn’t even reached our first real destination. Would we be able to get Braden to 400? Things were looking good, but in birding as in life, nothing is certain . . .

Our Prospector Park List