Chasing Migrants, Part I: Swifts, Peeps, and Plovers

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In case you missed our last post, be sure to check out my new book, Birding for Boomers. It’s a great gift for anyone you know of any age or background who might be interested in getting into birds. It’s also a great way to support our efforts here at FatherSonBirding! Why not order one or two copies—or even a dozen—right now?

I’ve had little time to catch up on our birding adventures this time of year. With new books to promote, house guests to entertain, seeing Braden off to his senior year at UMaine, and more, life has been a juggling act through August and September. I did manage two lovely trips to Freezeout Lake in August, one with my occasional birding buddy Steve Flood, the other with Braden right before he headed East. In mid-September, I also rewarded myself with a personal trip to the Bay Area to visit friends and relatives—and, of course, see as many birds as possible. Like the recent trips to Freezeout, my primary objective was to find and study as many migrating shorebirds as possible.

Despite birding for more than a decade, I still feel like a beginner when it comes to shorebirds. My recent trips to Freezeout were “study sessions” more than birding excursions, and I was grateful that Baird’s Sandpipers, Red-necked Phalaropes, Semipalmated Sandpipers and other species offered hours of observation and ID practice on each trip. I hoped for similar sessions in California. After I spent a few days with relatives in Oakland and reconnected with the delightful birds of oak woodlands, my friend Scott (see Eastern Odyssey 24: Return to Westby) whisked me off to the North Bay, where serious birding adventures commenced.

Before heading across the Richmond Bridge, we gave McLaughlin Eastshore State Park in Berkeley a try, but our timing was off as high tide covered the mudflats. Next, we visited the Las Gallinas Valley Sanitary District in Marin County. I enjoyed that, but again, we saw nothing spectacular. I was surprised to spot a lone Vaux’s Swift—a lifer for Scott—and eight or nine Black Phoebes put on a show, but it was a slow start to meeting our birding ambitions. Fortunately, things would pick up—dramatically.

Though they didn’t perch at the top of our target list for the day, Black Phoebes charmed us at the Las Gallinas water treatment ponds in Marin County.

After Las Gallinas (“The Hens”), Scott drove us to Reclamation Road in the San Pablo Bay National Wildlife Refuge, where we hoped—finally—for some shorebird action. Our first surprise wasn’t shorebirds, however. As soon as we got out of the car, I spotted four tiny shapes frantically flying west. “Hey, there’s more Vaux’s Swifts.” I really hadn’t expected to see these, but it did make sense. I knew they’d departed Montana in the past few weeks and that they followed the West Coast down to their wintering grounds in Mexico and Central America. Our four birds were merely a prelude, however. As Scott and I walked out toward the shore, we saw half a dozen more swifts. Then a dozen. Then, as we looked east, we witnessed a veritable river of Vaux’s Swifts flying toward us.

This photo doesn’t begin to capture the remarkable river of migrating Vaux’s Swifts that passed over our heads. Yes, those “dots” are the swifts! Swifts are a species of concern because of the loss of old growth forests and other natural roosting sites. Ironically, saving old brick chimneys should be a priority for those interested in protecting these birds.

“This is amazing,” Scott said as the birds stiff-winged it over our heads. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

I shook my head. The most VASWs I’d ever seen at one time was perhaps a couple of dozen. Now, hundreds streamed past us—probably thousands! We learned from a passerby that they were most likely heading to the chimney of an old brick-making plant, a well-known roosting place for them. Scott and I were suitably awed by the sight. It was enough to make the whole day worthwhile, whether or not we ended up seeing shorebirds.

Nonetheless, as we walked out to the bay I was gladdened to see shallow mudflats and hundreds of dots scattered over them. “Shorebirds!” I rejoiced.

With San Francisco in the distance, you couldn’t ask for a more dramatic setting to study shorebirds! Many of those specks in the foreground are Least Sandpipers—though you’ll see a lot of other species mixed in!

As we drew closer, I set up the spotting scope, and quickly zoomed in on a dozen-plus Long-billed Curlews, at least fifty Willets, and what would turn out to be a couple of hundred Marbled Godwits. These were easily-enough identified. Not so the hundreds of small sandpipers, or “peeps,” that peppered the scene in front of us. Birders generally include four species under the “peep” category: Sanderlings, Western Sandpipers, Semipalmated Sandpipers, and Least Sandpipers. Since it was the nonbreeding season, Sanderlings should have given off a distinctive whitish vibe by now, so I ruled them out, but what of the other three? The problem with peeps is that their coloration, size, bill shape and bill length overlap to a frustrating degree, and I just didn’t have enough experience with these to make a call. Least Sandpipers can be easy to pinpoint if you can see their leg color—yellow compared to black for Westerns and “Semipalms”—but when they were feeding in the mud, determining leg color often proved impossible.

As I often do in such situations, I called Braden. I described what I was seeing and said, “I am guessing that they are Semipalmated Sandpipers, but I just don’t know.”

“Well,” he informed me, “the good news is that if there are large numbers of them, they aren’t Semis because Semipalmated Sandpipers don’t move through the West Coast.”

With Braden’s help, I narrowed down these far-away “peeps” to either Least or Western Sandpipers. Confirmation would have to wait until later, however.

Doh! This surprised me because we do see them in Montana. I never realized, though, that our Montana birds were on the western edge of their migration pathway from their northern breeding grounds to their wintering grounds in the coastal tropics.

“If I had to guess,” Braden continued, “I’d say you’re looking at Least Sandpipers. You said that they’re darker brown and Westerns give off a grayer color.”

Still, even through the scope, the birds were too far away for me to be sure, so I recorded “peep sp.” in my eBird checklist—at least for now.

One species, however, excited me more than all the others. Almost as soon as we reached the mudflats, I spotted birds that I had especially hoped to see: Black-bellied Plovers. Black-bellied Plovers are one of the world’s largest plovers, and they have the widest distribution. Like many shorebirds, they breed mainly in the arctic regions, but in winter they disperse to coastal areas of every continent sans Antarctica.

At San Pablo Bay NWR, I was especially excited to see Black-bellied Plovers mixed in with Long-billed Curlews, peeps, Marbled Godwits, and other shorebirds.

Braden and I had only ever seen Black-bellied Plovers about twenty times—and only four times as they migrated through Montana. The birds are known to flock up in winter, but even in places such as California and Texas, we generally only saw a few at a time. Now, as I trained my scope out over the mudflats, I began picking out more and more of these birds. At first, their light color and larger size made them look kind of like gulls, but their more erect posture and stubbier dark bill gave them away. One bird they can easily be confused with are American Golden Plovers, which look almost identical except for their smaller bill, head, and overall size. Some AGPLs also show flecks of gold color even in winter, but today, I saw no AGPL suspects and counted sixty Black-bellied Plovers in front of me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many before!” I effused to Scott. “This is really amazing.”

What I didn’t realize is that I vastly undercounted. I took a couple of photos of shorebirds in flight and later, going over the images, I made a startling discovery. One of the flying flocks consisted of at least 140 Black-bellied Plovers! How could I tell they were BBPLs instead of other shorebirds? In this case, it happened to be easy. Black-bellied Plovers are the only shorebirds to show distinct black armpits under their wings!

When I took this photo, I didn’t realize these birds were Black-bellied Plovers—easily the largest flock I have ever seen. The black armpits make IDing this species particularly easy in flight.

It was a great way to end the day for both me and Scott and we celebrated with a fabulous Mexican food dinner with Scott’s wife Ginny and step-daughter Hayley. I went to bed happy—but eagerly looked forward to more migrating bird opportunities ahead.

https://ebird.org/checklist/S195291789

Birding for Boomers

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I have always envied people who took up birding when young. There are just so many advantages to getting started as a youth, from having a better brain to learn with to having better ears to hear and discern the world’s vast array of birdsong. The biggest advantage? You get to spend more of your life birding! Alas, it’s a fact that most of us take up birding later in life, when one or more of our sensory systems are shot—not to mention our knees, hips, shoulders, or (you choose). Braden and I are perfect examples of this contrast. Already an outstanding birder, Braden has a full life ahead of him to see, learn, and enjoy birds. As a Baby Boomer I’m in a different boat. Though Braden and I began birding at the same time, my hearing was already well on its way to taking a dramatic crash so that even with hearing aids, I now cannot hear a lot of bird vocalizations. Most important, I just won’t have as many years to enjoy observing and learning about birds.

I was thinking about this a couple of years ago, and especially about how many fellow Boomers are in the exact same situation I am in. At the same time, I also pondered how much joy and pleasure birding has given me, even in the “short” span of a decade! That’s when the thought occurred to me: I should write a book! I am happy to share with you that that book is now a reality. It’s called Birding for Boomers—and Everyone Else Brave Enough to Embrace the World’s Most Rewarding and Frustrating Activity.

More than a decade in the making (sort of), my newest adult book, BIRDING FOR BOOMERS, is AVAILABLE NOW! Order it by clicking on the cover above!

As its subtitle implies, this is not just a book for Baby Boomers. However, the phrase “Birding for Boomers” proved so irresistible that the publisher and I decided to stick with it for the main title. What the book really is, however, is a comprehensive guide for anyone interested in taking up one of the best activities on the planet!

In Birding for Boomers, I try to cover every topic that a beginning birder might need to know—including how not to die while birding!

After briefly—and humorously—sharing my own birding history, complete with its rewards and frustrations, Birding for Boomers launches into chapters that deal with almost every conceivable aspect of birding. I talk about birding equipment, field guides, and apps. In Chapter 6, I tackle the often-daunting process of learning to identify birds, complete with strategies for what to look and listen for. Subsequent chapters discuss bird feeders, birding “action wear,” safety, and which kinds of birds to look for in different habitats.

Whether we are a newly-hatched youth or a Boomer like myself, all of us face our own challenges when it comes to pursuing birds, and from the very beginning, I convey the message that no matter who you are, you’re not alone. Several chapters focus on hearing, eyesight, and physical limitations and how to accommodate them. Not all challenges are physical, however, and I discuss “birding while Black” and other issues that a typical heterosexual male white birder might not ever have to deal with. The basic message? Birding is an activity that can and should be enjoyed by everyone no matter who you are or where you come from.

My own hearing issues inspired me to pay special attention to the kinds of special challenges many birders face, both physical and situational.

Part VI, “The Advanced Birding Arsenal,” provides guidance for identifying particularly tough groups of birds—think sparrows, gulls, shorebirds, and flycatchers. It also delves into getting started on bird photography, or “how to spend your retirement savings.” It explains how to use eBird, by far the most useful birding app ever invented, and discusses uber-fun birding challenges such as doing a Big Year and participating in Christmas bird counts.

In “Boomers” I devote several chapters to finding the best places to bird—something Braden and I have written about frequently in FatherSonBirding.

I have to say that my favorite chapters discuss where to go birding. I begin by sharing tips for finding local birds right in your neighborhood, but then broaden that discussion to exploring some of America’s greatest birding destinations. I include tips for birding while on family vacations and how to study up on “foreign birds” ahead of time.

Perhaps the most important parts of the book detail what we can all do to help birds—including turning your yard, if you have one, into birding habitat. What are you waiting for?

The most important chapters are the last because here, I discuss the precarious state of many of the world’s bird species and what we can do about it. That includes supporting bird conservation groups, reducing our energy footprints, keeping cats indoors (see our post “Birding Brooklyn!”), and voting for politicians that support bird-friendly environmental policies. Those of us fortunate enough to own a house with a yard have the awesome opportunities to creating bird-friendly habitats. I myself did this when we moved into our current house (see post “Turning Useless Lawn into Vital Habitat”). Instead of filling up our plot with pointless lawn, I planted dozens of native plants that support birds. Honestly, this has been one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever done. Every year, chickadees, wrens, and/or Song Sparrows nest in our yard, and many other species visit to find fruits, nuts, and insects to eat.

Newly-fledged chickadees in our front yard are a testament that creating habitat pays bird dividends!

Birding for Boomers distills almost everything I’ve learned in my decade of intensive birding and writing about birds. I also reached out to dozens of other excellent birders—and even conducted some online polls—to augment my own knowledge and experience. I think you’ll enjoy the book’s entertaining, fast-paced style and know that I can count on you to buy dozens of copies for yourself, your family, and friends. After all, there aren’t many other hobbies that bring so much joy to the world. What have you got to lose?

You can order Birding for Boomers this very instant from your local independent bookstore. You can also order it directly from Mountaineers Books, Amazon, and other outlets.

Follow this Cerulean Warbler’s example and order a stack of “Boomers” for your friends and family! Click here!

August: It’s Just Weird

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August is a weird month to bird. As we’ve no doubt mentioned before, we used to just write off August. I mean, most birds have stopped singing. No songbirds are migrating. Oh, and in Montana, hot, smoky weather often sucks the motivation from every pore of our bodies. Over time, however, our “bad August attitude” has, like the current presidential race, suffered a total reversal. Now, Braden and I cautiously look forward to August birding. The only problem? We’re never sure what we’re going to find. (See, for instance, last year’s August post “Birding Treasure at Garnet Ghost Town.”)

This August has been no different, but we began the month with some clear objectives. As Braden’s summer in Montana dwindles ahead of his final year of college, he had accomplished most of his summer birding goals save one: finding a Spruce Grouse. I could relate! After all, I saw my lifer spruce grouse only last year (see our post “Gambling on a Grouse-fecta”). As for me, I too coveted another Spruce Grouse on top of other Year Birds that had so far eluded me. The latter included Olive-sided Flycatchers, and Three-toed and Black-backed Woodpeckers. We both wanted to see migrating shorebirds, but realized it might be a tad early for some of them.

Sadly, Braden and I probably had only one day left to bird together before he departed, so any strategy to accomplish our remaining goals would involve compromise. Nonetheless, we set off last Sunday morning for a place we’d never birded together—Skalkaho Pass east of Hamilton. We got on the road before seven and made a brief stop at Lee Metcalf NWR hoping for shorebirds. No luck, probably because water levels were too high, but we did see a lot of the other usual suspects. Most surprising? Vaux’s Swifts, which I myself had probably never seen at Metcalf before, and at least half a dozen Sandhill Cranes—an unusually high number for that location. “Hm,” we thought, “Maybe some birds are already on the move for their fall migrations!”

There was something off about this Sandhill Crane at Lee Metcalf. I just can’t quite figure out what it was!

After a quick stop in Hamilton for breakfast sandwiches, we headed toward Skalkaho, the road transitioning from a two-lane road with a painted yellow line, to a “one track” paved road, and finally to dirt. We encountered an early surprise with a herd of bighorn sheep, and then climbed through a gorgeous forest canyon that gave off moist Pacific Northwest vibes and hosted a huge variety of trees. Here, we heard Pacific Wrens and Golden-crowned Kinglets, but our real destination lay high above us.

A great advantage of birding is that we see a huge variety of mammals during our adventures—including these bighorn sheep.

As the road snaked upward, we entered large burn areas that looked about ten years old. If you’ve been reading this blog (or my book Fire Birds) at all you know that we love to bird in burned forests. Not only do they provide great visibility, standing dead trees attract some of Montana’s most special birds. We pulled over a couple of times to listen for woodpeckers, but didn’t hear anything. Getting out of the car for the third time, however, we were greeted by a loud “Quick! Three Beers!” Braden and I laughed.

Though not a great photo, this is exactly the kind of pose we usually find Olive-sided Flycatchers striking in a burned forest.

“Olive-sided!” he exclaimed. And not just one, either. We would count at least half a dozen in the next couple of hours.

When we passed 7,000 feet we at last felt we had reached proper Spruce Grouse country. I had located a promising dirt road on the map, but before we reached it, we spotted another dirt road leading to the left. “That looks good,” I told Braden. “Let’s take that.”

“Sounds good,” he answered.

The burns near Skalkaho Pass were custom-made for finding cool birds.

It felt like a good day to find a Spruce Grouse. As on my Spruce Grouse excursion with Braydon Luikart last year, the day was overcast and misty, and I kept expecting to see bevies of grouse sitting in the middle of the road. That didn’t happen. In fact, we drove slowly for about twenty minutes, I keeping my eye on the road while Braden searched trees and openings along the road.

“C’mon, grouse,” I urged them, but it seemed like it might end up being a grouse-less day after all.

Then, Braden said, “Stop! Back up a few feet.”

I obeyed. “There, next to that stump,” he told me. “That definitely looks like a grouse.”

Sure enough, it was a gorgeous female emanating a distinctly Spruce Grouse aura. Just to make sure, I called up my Sibley app and compared it to a female Dusky Grouse. The two looked very different. Most diagnostic were this bird’s golden-brown patina and horizontal stripes across its breast and belly. Dusky females are grayer with more vertical barring in front.

We could have easily driven past this female Spruce Grouse as it imitated a tree stump, but Braden’s sharp eyes caught it as we rumbled by.

“We did it!” I affirmed. “We found a Spruce Grouse!” Neither of us could quite believe it. Even better, we spotted two babies popping their heads up and down right behind mom.

We continued up the road for another ten minutes, hoping to glimpse a male, but didn’t see one, so turned around and began bumping back toward the main road. We were not finished with this promising area, though. At another burn area, I pulled over. “Let’s just walk up the slope a bit,” I suggested, grabbing my camera and binoculars. We did, scanning the forest of dead tree trunks for any sign of woodpeckers. Then, we heard drumming to our right and our eyes locked.

“Let’s go over there,” Braden said, and we began picking our way over fallen logs and slash, and through fresh, thriving young trees and shrubs. As we walked, the drumming sound was replaced by tapping, and we grew closer and closer until we felt sure it was coming from a tall tree right in front of us.

“Do you see it?” I asked peering hard at the trunk against a backlit sky. Braden shook his head, so I circled around the tree, trying to spot it from different angles. Finally, I saw movement down low behind a green branch of a living tree. “I got it,” I called to Braden.

It took some time to get a clear look at it, and the first thing I saw was a lot of white showing on its back. This led the pessimistic side of me to conclude it was a Hairy Woodpecker. After all, no yellow showed on its head—the clear sign of a male Three-toed or Black-backed. As Braden also got his eyes on it, though, we began going through its other features. Most prominent? Black barring on its breast.

“Do Hairys have those black markings?” I asked, quickly consulting Sibley. “They don’t!”

This female American Three-toed Woodpecker provided an ideal “study bird” for teasing out the finer details of this species. We were thrilled to find it!

“It’s a Three-toed!” Braden agreed.

Wow. On this one day we had set aside to bird at elevation, we had found almost all of the birds we longed for, missing only a Black-backed Woodpecker.

We weren’t as successful with shorebirds, but that didn’t surprise us. Making our way over to Warm Springs, we found a nice group of Long-billed Dowitchers, and Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs, but not the Baird’s or Pectoral Sandpipers or small “peeps” (Least, Semipalmated, or Western Sandpipers) we were hoping for. Still, we did discover a surprise Black-crowned Night-Heron at the main Warm Springs ponds—something totally off our radar. In fact, I had started the day hoping for maybe one or two Year Birds, and ended up with six! Our success was only dampened by the knowledge that it might be our last big day of birding together this summer. Still, that is the yin and yang of birding—and of life. You just gotta enjoy it all.

Our grouse eBird checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S190227269

Montana County Sweep: Our Final Eastern Montana Odyssey Post

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Just so you don’t get lost in the narrative below, be sure you catch up with our last post—or, better yet, begin with the first post in this series!

We made our way out of the Ekalaka Hills along a different road than the one we came in on—and are so glad that we did! This route paralleled the top of a dramatic rim that dropped hundreds of feet to the plains below. As we drove, we experienced a wealth of warblers, nuthatches, Mountain Bluebirds, wrens, and other songbirds. I wasn’t quite satisfied with our view, though, so I told Braden, “Pull over. I want to walk to the edge.”

I will never get tired of watching and photographing Lark Sparrows, but this one along the Ekalaka Hills rim was especially cooperative!

Even as I approached the rim, I could see White-throated Swifts and Violet-green Swallows working the cliffs, and once we got there we experienced breathtaking views, perhaps all the way to South Dakota . Then I saw the bird I especially had been hoping for. “Braden!” I called. “Prairie Falcon!”

The cliffs on the south side of the Ekalaka Hills gave us our best-ever experience watching Prairie Falcons hunting.

This was a bird we had wanted to see the entire trip, but never dreamed of seeing in such dramatic circumstances. Braden hurried over to join me and we watched as this powerful, brown-backed bird deftly cut through the skies in front of us. “Wait. There’s a second one,” I said. “You’re right,” Braden exclaimed.

We spent a full ten or fifteen minutes enjoying the prowess of these magnificent hunters, and it made both of us feel good to know that the pair was undoubtedly nesting in a perfect place for them. Alas, we still had some serious goals ahead of us that day, so we reluctantly said goodbye and continued on our way.

Braden watching the Prairie Falcons performing their acrobatic flights along the Ekalaka Hills rim.

As mentioned in our last few posts, we began our trip needing to bird seven Montana counties to totally fill in our Montana eBird map. In the past week we had knocked off Daniels, Prairie, Wibaux, Fallon, and Carter Counties (see our last post, “Adventures in Ekalaka”). Today we faced the final two: Powder and Treasure Counties. The first proved easy. Driving twenty or so miles south of the Ekalaka Hills, we cut SW along a well-maintained dirt road to Hwy 212 and then turned NW. Eight miles later, we crossed into Powder River County, and immediately began picking up Mourning Doves, Eastern and Western Kingbirds, meadowlarks, and other “roadside attractions.” To meet our ten-species minimum, however, we stopped at a small riverside fishing access in Broadus. There, we collected 13 species including Lark Sparrows, Lazuli Buntings, Yellow Warblers, and yet another Red-headed Woodpecker! Continuing on toward Miles City, we left Powder River County with a total of 21 species. Not bad for just passing through!

By the time we reached Miles City, our trip had taken us almost 2,000 miles, and I guess a collective fatigue had caught up with us. “Do you mind if we just find a coffee shop and chill out for a while?” I asked Braden. He was totally agreeable, so we spent an hour or so relaxing in a City Brew I’d frequented while teaching a writing workshop there several years before. It was just what we both needed. More important, it prepared us for our last lifetime Montana county!

We did it! Our very last county we birded in Montana. And it only took us 11 years!

To reach Treasure County, we tooled down I-94 to the town of Forsyth, and then paralleled the Yellowstone River, driving west. About fifteen minutes later, we reached a sign marking the county line! We, of course, got out to immortalize the moment with our phone cameras, but even posing next to the sign we could hear and see Red-winged Blackbirds, a Western Meadowlark, and four or five other birds. We continued driving until we encountered a likely dirt road leading off to the north. We intended to try to reach the Yellowstone River, but found a promising thicket right before the road crossed some railroad tracks. “Let’s stop here,” I said.

Immediately, we were rewarded with a Lazuli Bunting, American Goldfinch, Yellow Warbler, Yellow-breasted Chat and other birds. The stars? A pair of American Redstarts that landed right in front of us, posing beautifully. Unlike with the Plumbeous Vireo (see our last post), I was prepared this time and took what may be my best American Redstart photos ever! Braden and I delighted in watching these birds for more than a minute before they flitted off into the thicket. But one more Treasure County surprise lay in wait.

One of our best looks ever at American Redstarts, this warbler was our reward for completing our mission to bird every Montana county!

Driving a bit farther, looking for a place to turn around, we headed left down a dirt road. “Uh, this looks like a driveway to that farm over there,” I said, but right then we both saw it—yet another Red-headed Woodpecker! (See our last post.)

I, of course, climbed out to try to get a decent photo since none of the other RHWOs had cooperated on the trip. This one, fortunately, did—more or less—peaking out behind a telephone pole. It was a great way not only to wrap up our Treasure County list (21 species total), but to punctuate the completion of our goal of birding every county in the vastness of Montana.

This Red-headed Woodpecker both surprised and delighted us when we pulled over to pad our Treasure County list—our last Montana county to fill in our eBird map!

Our Eastern Montana adventure was far from over. It would take us on a wonderful adventure to a private ranch, back to perhaps my favorite Montana place to bird (see our post Bear Canyon—Montana’s “Tropical Birding” Paradise), and above ten thousand feet to witness the enchanting lives of Black Rosy-finches. Rather than blog about these last adventures, though, I’ve decided to write a book, so you’ll just have to be patient. Braden and I hope that you’ve enjoyed these posts, however, and rest assured, we have enjoyed sharing them with you. Please be sure to share, and if you’d like to support FatherSonBirding, consider purchasing new copies of some of Sneed’s books. Speaking of that, his long-awaited new adult book, Birding for Boomers, is now available for pre-order. Don’t be shy. Click on the cover below now!

Trip Stats:

Total Species Observed: 203 (from a goal of 185)

Total eBird checklists: 209

New Montana Life Birds: 5 + 1 (Broad-tailed Hummingbird, Broad-winged Hawk, Least Tern, Eastern Bluebird, Black Rosy-Finch plus—for Braden—Piping Plover)

Miles Driven: 2,482

Our eBird Trip Report: https://ebird.org/tripreport/246744

More than a decade in the making (sort of), my newest adult book, BIRDING FOR BOOMERS, will be available on September 1st—but you can order it now by clicking on the cover above!

Adventures in Ekalaka: Our 2024 Eastern Montana Odyssey Continues

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We are pleased to present our sixth installment of our 2024 Eastern Montana Odyssey. Here, we leave the “interstate less traveled” and push into the brand new birding territory of southeastern Montana. We experience delightful new towns and vistas, and a wealth of surprising birds. We also keep knocking off new counties, drawing closer to completing our Montana eBird map. If you are enjoying these episodes, please share them with your birding friends and consider supporting our efforts by buying a *NEW* copy or two of one of Sneed’s books on the right.

Leaving Glendive, Braden and I had our work cut out for us. Not only would we be birding the southeast corner of the state for the very first time, this might be our only chance to nail down the last six Montana counties we needed to complete our eBird birding map! We had started the trip needing seven counties, and picked up one a few days before (see our post “Big Surprise on the Way to Plentywood”). Today, we planned to conquer Prairie, Wibaux, Fallon, and Carter Counties—and it would take some effort.

Fallon Bridge allowed us to bird the first of six Montana counties we planned to pick up in the next 48 hours.

First up? Prairie County which, unfortunately, didn’t sit anywhere on our way to or from someplace else we wanted to go. Before heading down to the southeast corner of Montana, therefore, we zoomed about twenty miles west down Interstate 94. Entering Prairie County, we spotted Western Meadowlark, Mourning Dove, and Cliff Swallow along the highway and we could have technically just turned around at that point. Braden and I decided, however, that to make our county map more meaningful we had to find at least ten, count ‘em, TEN species in each of our last seven counties. In Prairie County, we accomplished this with a stop at Fallon Bridge. Apparently, this also is a place to see Least Terns (see our last post), but we didn’t know that. Instead, we just got out and spent a few minutes enjoying what was there, including American White Pelican, more than fifty Cliff Swallows, a Lark Sparrow, and our County Bird of Prairie County, Brown Thrasher.

We raced back east on the interstate, past Glendive, to our main Wibaux County destination, the Wibaux Fish Pond. Here, we saw a satisfying 17 species including our County Bird of Wibaux County, Orchard Oriole. By this time our stomachs were complaining loudly about how we prioritized birding over eating. Fortunately, Wibaux is home to a wonderful little diner, the Palace Café. We stuffed ourselves on a scrumptious fat-and-protein-filled breakfast and emerged prepared to continue our vigorous Montana counties campaign.

A good small-town diner is one of a birder’s greatest pleasures. Don’t miss the Palace Hotel & Cafe in Wibaux!

Next stop: Lake Baker in the town of Baker, Fallon County. We were both somewhat surprised to find a giant lake in the middle of the town. True, it was pretty developed, but we spotted nice surprises here including Eared Grebes, Western Grebes, and the star of our Fallon County lists, a Common Loon!

This Common Loon was a major surprise at Lake Baker.

From Baker, it was on to Carter County, and here we settled into some more serious birding with a hike through the spectacular Medicine Rocks State Park. The fantastic, hoodoo-style rocks at Medicine Rocks were sculpted by wind and rain from soft inland sea sandstone. Not surprisingly, when humans came along the rocks assumed important sacred and cultural significance for native peoples and a fair share of interest from early white settlers.

Medicine Rocks State Park is plenty dramatic—especially with Red-headed Woodpeckers lurking nearby.

It was at Medicine Rocks that we spotted one of the birds we had most wanted to see on the entire trip. After walking a mile or so through the rocks, we connected with the pine tree-lined dirt road back to our car. As we walked, we caught a glimpse of a medium-sized bird that flashed white as it was flying away. “Red-headed Woodpecker!” Braden shouted. We didn’t get great looks, but never fear. This would not be the last RHWO we would see.

This fuzzy flight photo shows the dramatic color contrasts Red-headed Woodpeckers present, making them easy to identify from a distance.

From Medicine Rocks, we made our way to our camping destination for the night, Ekalaka Park Campground. It was barely noon as we turned off on the dirt road into the higher hills south of Ekalaka, and we took our time, stopping to look at whatever cool birds we happened to encounter. Sure enough, we glimpsed two more RHWOs as they fled up and over a little hill. “Let’s follow them,” I said, steering up a little two-track up along a fence line. As we crested the rise, one of the woodpeckers was sitting on a fence post. It fled as I got out to try to photograph it, but meanwhile, Braden had sighted a surprise Montana life bird for us—Eastern Bluebird! Though almost identical to their Western counterparts, Easterns are easily distinguished by their red throats compared to the blue throats of WEBLs.

The red throat of this Eastern Bluebird easily distinguishes it from its Western Bluebird counterpart. Montana Lifer!

We continued to pick up great birds along the road: Yellow-breasted Chat, Lark Sparrow, Field Sparrows, and more Red-headed Woodpeckers. My favorite was our first ever really good look at a Plumbeous Vireo. We spent several minutes watching this handsome, “spectacled” bird. Alas, my camera was back in the car so we failed to get a photo of it. Some photos you just have to store in your brain!

Although abundant, the Red-headed Woodpeckers in Ekalaka were on the shy side. I never managed to get closer than fifty yards or so to one.

We spent a delightful evening in Ekalaka Park Campground—the only campers there. The campground sits in a little bowl surrounded by dramatic cliffs and an older burned forest, making it the perfect habitat for Red-headed Woodpeckers. Sitting at our picnic table, we could hear and see woodpeckers all around us. Every once in a while, one would fly right through our camp. I made bean and cheese tacos and we settled in for our best camping experience of the trip.

Ekalaka Park Campground offered perhaps our best-ever experience with Red-eyed Vireos, which serenaded us the whole time we were there.

The woodpeckers weren’t the only show offs in camp. That evening, Common Poorwills lulled us to sleep. We also had some of our best experiences ever with Red-eyed Vireos. In fact, when I woke the next morning, it was to a REVI’s delightful song. After working my way out of my sleeping bag, I climbed a nearby hill into the burned forest and picked a log to perch on. The air was cool and fresh, and woodpeckers flew from one snag to another. Sitting there, I felt very grateful for life, and that Braden and I could share the wonders of Montana birdlife together.

Taco Time in Ekalaka Park Campground.