Tag Archives: Endangered Species

Ptarmigan Party in Glacier National Park

4 Replies

(by Braden) By the time our posse of eleven reached Logan Pass at 6 in the morning, the parking lot was already full, though that did not hamper the views. Nick Ramsey and I rushed over to the bathrooms, admiring a view we had not experienced for years (despite having been to the lower-altitude parts of Glacier Park every year since 2017) and nabbing Cassin’s Finch and White-crowned Sparrow, then hopped back into Joshua Wade Covill’s car and headed for the Piegan Pass trailhead.

Nick and I had arrived at Josh’s house in Columbia Falls late the night before after a helping of early-summer shorebirds south of Kalispell and were greeted by not only Josh, one of Montana’s birding mammoths, but also by an assortment of the country’s top birders: Tom Forwood Jr., a southern Montana-based birder well-known for the Big Day records he had set across Montana (some of which had been with Josh) and working at Lewis and Clark Caverns State Park; Marky Mutchler, a recent graduate of Louisiana State University who had been the ABA young birder of the year a few years back and whose six-out-of-five star photos decorated every part of eBird’s website; four field techs currently studying nesting birds like Lazuli Buntings and Spotted Towhees on MPG Ranch, and two more birders, who along with Marky, currently spent their time researching grassland birds like Long-billed Curlews and Sprague’s Pipits out on the American Prairie Reserve. Several of the people I had already met through Facebook, while I was excited to meet others for the first time. I knew I was in the presence of greatness the minute I stepped out of the mini-van and onto Josh’s lawn, where I pitched my tent.

We were all here for one reason: to see Glacier National Park and its birds under the guidance of Josh, who knew the park like a Black Swift knows the underside of a waterfall, and who had, in fact, just started a Glacier-based guiding company! While several of us had been here before, others (including many of the field techs) had never seen this part of the country before, and we were prepared to assist in blowing their minds. 

We woke up on Saturday morning at 5, getting into the park before the ticket period started, and were up and over Logan Pass by 6. A MacGillivray’s Warbler sang downslope of us as we bug-sprayed up in the Piegan Pass trail parking lot, and then set off into the forest of Engelmann Spruce and Subalpine Fir. Almost immediately Josh halted the group to point out several White-winged Crossbills singing from treetops, their complex trills a new sound for me. This habitat made much more sense than the cemetery in which I’d gotten my lifers earlier in the year.

My dad and I usually see Pine Grosbeaks at lower elevations during winter, so it was very special to see them at their breeding altitudes.

In a clearing several miles up the trail Josh called in a Varied Thrush for the photographers of the group (several people including Marky, had brought giant lenses) and a pair of Pine Grosbeaks, not wanting to be left out, had decided to forage in the grass and shrubs at eye-level about ten feet from us. 

As we hiked, I learned about the individual research projects that each of the field techs were looking at on the APR, which included Long-billed Curlew migration patterns and parasitism on grassland birds by Brown-headed Cowbirds. We talked about top birding spots everywhere from New Mexico to Missouri and exchanged stories about how everyone had gotten into birds. It was particularly fun visiting with Tom and Josh, as they seemingly had an answer to everything I wondered about along the trail. Tom didn’t just know the birds—he identified every flower and butterfly we came across, and he and Josh pointed out the glaciers and peaks around us as we rose in altitude, many of which they had individually hiked to. They also had a wealth of knowledge of birding Latin America, specifically Costa Rica, something I was incredibly interested in.

After about three miles we rose above the stunted forest marking the end of the subalpine zone and were hiking along scree fields and across lingering snow patches. A Golden Eagle soaring high above welcomed us to the alpine zone as pikas mewed at us from their rocky burrows, and the bird community changed abruptly. Rather than crossbills and grosbeaks, Gray-crowned Rosy-finches filled the finch role up here, and all of us were shocked to encounter a Brewer’s Sparrow belting out a song from a patch of young trees! A rare subspecies of Brewer’s Sparrow, known as the Timberline Sparrow, lived above the tree line in Glacier Park and in mountain ranges farther north, a rather strange change from the normal sagebrush habitat the species used elsewhere in its range. No one in the group had ever seen one before, including Tom and Josh, which meant that everyone had gotten at least one new bird out of the hike!

This surprise Timberline Sparrow (a subspecies of Brewer’s Sparrow) was a Lifer for our entire group!

Speaking of new birds, I was here for my Montana life bird #299: White-tailed Ptarmigan. These cryptic, high-altitude game birds only lived in the northwest part of the state, and only in Glacier were they easily-accessible. As we reached Piegan Pass, Josh pointed out a large snowfield. We would be walking around the base of the field after a quick lunch, as it was perfect ptarmigan habitat: it turns out that most alpine habitat was unsuitable for ptarmigan. These picky birds require access to water, shade (i.e. low cliffs) to hide from the sun, and vegetation (i.e. moss) for food. If a site does not have one of these three things, it’s unlikely to contain ptarmigan.

After a lunch full of various mammals from Least Chipmunks to Hoary Marmots trying to steal our food, we set off in a large search line to try to find ptarmigan as an American Pipit displayed in the air high above us, an activity shared with the Sprague’s Pipits my dad and I had found earlier this year. After about fifteen minutes, Skyler Bol, one of the MPG Ranch field techs, yelled, “Got one!”. We all maneuvered across the rocks over to where he stood, and sure enough, there sat a surprisingly small game bird, half-white and half-brown, curiously staring up at us. 

It had taken me more than seven years for me to finally see a White-tailed Ptarmigan, but I couldn’t have asked for a better experience—or company—in finding my 299th Montana bird species!

Everyone whipped out their cameras and settled around the fairly unconcerned bird, and soon Skyler spotted another one sitting on a small waterfall nearby! We basked in the ptarmigan glory for at least an hour, then wished the small birds good luck and cold temperatures, and headed back down the trail.

Once we were firmly in the subalpine forest again, we began stopping periodically and playing for Boreal Chickadee. It was great habitat for them, and several members of the group had never seen them before. You might call it “pushing our luck”, but hey, it worked! About two miles from the parking lot after hearing a Mountain Chickadee and several Canada Jays impersonating Yellow-throated Toucans, Josh decided to play for them and a pair of Boreal Chickadees showed up! I had not expected to see them again this year after nabbing my lifer in May and it was great to watch them from a distance as other people took photos of their very first of these boreal birds.

Though our goal was to see White-tailed Ptarmigan, the day facilitated several epic QUACHs as well!

After spying a trio of Golden Eagles again at the parking lot, we headed back to Josh’s house, stopping briefly for a Chestnut-backed Chickadee (there would be several QUACHs completed today) at Avalanche Campground. I had to head home but many of the others stayed another day, and I would soon hear stories of Black Swift, Spruce Grouse and American Three-toed Woodpecker.

As we left the Piegan Pass trailhead, Josh mentioned that he thought it had been his best day of birding in the park, and I would have to agree. And not just because of the great and cooperative birds we saw—because of the people. I had learned so much from everyone as we hiked, and had really gotten to experience what the community I would soon be immersed in would be like. Everyone was so knowledgeable, yet humble and kind, and I was honored to be a part of the first annual “Camp Montana”, even if it was only for a day.

However, seeing the ptarmigan was also a bit sad—who knew how long these alpine birds would be here? With temperatures already breaking record highs within the park, the birds living at the tops of mountains barely had anywhere to go, and snow was disappearing fast. I am very fortunate that I got to experience the birds while they are still here, and hope that somehow, they can adapt to whatever climate change throws at them.

Ptarmigan are a poster bird for how climate change is negatively impacting our planet. As permanent snow fields disappear, habitat for these birds is rapidly shrinking—a call to action to drastically and rapidly reduce the CO2 emissions we as humans produce.

Another problem was posed by seeing the ptarmigan: What will my 300th Montana bird be? Now that I’d nabbed #299, I had no choice but to get to 300, but my options were few and far between, and my days in the state are running out…stay tuned to see what it will be! (I don’t have it yet).

Incredible Birthday Birding

22 Replies

Hey Everyone! Well, the hackers are back. We’ve had a number of suspicious sign ups recently so if you really have subscribed in the last three months, please shoot Sneed a confirmation email at collard@bigsky.net and I will make sure that you stay subscribed. Meanwhile, feel free to share this post with all the wonderful birders in your lives. Thanks!

On Tuesday, February 4th, my dad woke me up at 7 o’clock, a restful relief from the 4:45 wake-up time I’d adapted to being on the Hellgate High School Swim Team. Despite an increasingly significant school workload, I’d decided (with parental permission, of course) to take my birthday off and head north to bird with my dad. Aside from the obvious perks of birding places like Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge and Flathead Lake, we had several goals in mind. A few days earlier, an Ivory Gull, an incredibly rare arctic species, had been sighted at Blue Bay on Flathead. There was also supposedly a Northern Hawk Owl, a boreal species that rarely visited the United States, at Swan River National Wildlife Refuge in the valley just to the east of the lake. We set out at eight o clock, fifteen minutes after the bell for my school rang, heading north with visions of rare birds soaring through our minds.

Though the gull, being the rarest of the possibilities today, was our priority, we had to make several stops. First, we made a speed-run of Ninepipe, visiting both the frozen lake itself and a nearby road that supposedly had been supporting a Ferruginous Hawk all winter. The hawk wasn’t quite as rare as the other species we were chasing, but raptors proved hard to find even in their regular, summer habitat in the eastern prairies. Today, we found the white-breasted bird fairly easily, along with several Red-taileds, Bald Eagles, Rough-leggeds and a Prairie Falcon flashing its dark armpits as it fled from a telephone pole. At Ninepipe itself, we almost collided with an airborne Ring-necked Pheasant, and crept down a dirt drive to snap photos of a possible Ross’s-Snow Goose hybrid.

We grabbed a delicious breakfast at the Ronan Cafe, then drove north through Polson, stopping at a fishing access on Flathead to check for gulls. The Ivory had last been seen heading south, and this hotspot, known as the Ducharme Fishing Access, also reliably held uncommon arctic and seafaring gulls like Iceland, Herring and Mew. In fact, due to the lake’s size, seabirds showed up on an annual basis, confusing it with an inland sea. The Ivory Gull was just the most recent, and possibly rarest, of these visitors. Today, however, we glimpsed only a few Ringed-billeds in the distance.

When the gull took flight, we thought it might be leaving. Instead it landed on a dock only about fifteen feet from us. Wish we’d had some krill in our pockets!

Normally, my dad and I don’t have the best luck chasing rarities. We’ve successfully found a few, usually by accident or thanks to excessive diligence of Nick Ramsey. Last summer, for instance, we chased an Indigo Bunting, Virginia’s Warbler, Black-throated Gray Warblers and Blue-gray Gnatcatchers in central Montana, only finding the bunting, which was difficult to miss in its neon blue plumage. When we pulled up to Blue Bay, though, we found two birders and one bird. That bird was the Ivory Gull, dressed in blank plumage dotted with black. At first we thought it was a plastic bag, due to its immobility, and proceeded to freak out immediately after raising our binoculars. The other birders, who had travelled from Washington to see this bird that normally dwells among the pack ice with polar bears, left fairly quickly after our arrival, leaving us alone on the beach to bask in the bird’s rarity and fill up our camera memory cards. The gull was incredibly tame, at one point landing five feet from us on a dry dock!

Strike a pose! This gull is obviously a huge Madonna fan!

After our success with the gull, we decided to drive north, then east, to Swan River in hopes of finding the owl. The location had been given to us by Nick, and it was much less direct and accessible than the gull had been. First we pulled off the highway at a makeshift parking lot, far from civilization, then trudged a mile through snow to a huge, open field. We proceeded to check and double-check the top of every pine, fir, larch and spruce in the area, searching for the diurnal bog-dweller. After searching the entire south end of the field, where the owl was supposed to be, we took a quick glance across the other side of the field. On a particular conifer far from us, a gray smudge caught the edge of my vision. I took a distant photo, confirming that it indeed was a gray smudge, and we continued to walk towards it. Once we got close enough to determine that it was at least bird-shaped, it disappeared!

If this isn’t an imposing, regal look, we don’t know what is. Good thing the owl couldn’t shoot lightning bolts down at us!

We frantically began re-checking every tree in the area, eventually relocating it again and—it was the owl! This time we didn’t take our eyes off it, eventually getting to about twenty feet from the tree that it perched on top of, like a star on a Christmas Tree. It glared at us, and we stared back, taking in its broad shoulders, square head and beautifully-patterned plumage. In an attempt to get better photos, my dad crossed a ditch, filling his rain boots with ice-cold water, and after the owl got bored with us, everyone departed. We had set out and seen every bird we’d wanted to, including three rarities, one of which (the gull) would quickly become at least nationally famous! To seal the deal, on the way home we glimpsed a Northern Shrike, another uncommon winter species that we hadn’t seen in a while. All in all, an incredible bird-filled birthday!

Me with my Birthday Gull perched behind me. Best Gift Ever!

Warblers Across Montana

Leave a reply

We heard more Northern Waterthrushes than saw them, but did manage an occasional glimpse. (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

During our 2016 Big Year, Braden and I were fortunate to attend the Monterey Bay Birding Festival. Our all-day “California Specialties” field trip was one of the most exhilarating days of birding we’d had to that point and ever since, we’d wanted to attend a similar event. Last weekend, we finally got our chance by going to Wings Across the Big Sky, held in Kalispell, Montana. As you might imagine, the event was loaded with terrific speakers, good food, and amazing field trips.

Picking our field trips proved a challenge, but on Saturday Braden and I opted to bird in Glacier National Park. Our top target species? Varied Thrush, Chestnut-backed or Boreal Chickadees, Harlequin Duck, and a pie-in-the-sky possibility, the endangered Black Swift. Shortly after 6 a.m., we followed our intrepid leader, Steve Gniadek, out of Kalispell and by 7:30 were birding the woods around Apgar. Almost immediately, we picked up one of our target birds, Chestnut-backed Chickadee, but what really stunned us was the profusion of warblers. In the thick, damp woods, seeing the birds proved a challenge, but their calls rang out all around us and, under Steve’s tutelage, we did our best to start learning them. Over the next two hours, we heard (and eventually saw) eight species—Yellow, Yellow-rumped, Townsend’s, American Redstart, Northern Waterthrush, Orange-crowned, Common Yellowthroat and MacGillivray’s. For Montana, it was an astounding total and almost a quarter of the 33 species we recorded.

MacGillivray’s Warblers have become one of Braden’s and my favorite summer arrivals in Montana. (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Our group’s next mission: Harlequin Ducks. The iconic Going-to-the-Sun Road was still closed, but we drove to Avalanche Creek to find a mob scene of hikers and bikers taking advantage of the closed road before cars were allowed up and over Logan Pass. In the confusion, our cars got separated, but as soon as our group stepped out of our car, we heard the eerie, drawn-out call of a Varied Thrush. “Let’s find it!” Braden exclaimed, leading us into a patch of conifers and, sure enough, we caught good, brief glimpses of this spectacular bird.

No sooner had we stepped out into the open, Braden and another member of our group shouted “Black Swifts!” We looked overhead to see several large black birds zooming about 100 feet above us. “How do you know they’re not Vaux’s?” I asked. The large size and slower wing beats strongly suggested Black Swifts, but a few minutes later, we got a clear answer when a Vaux’s and a Black Swift flew right next to each other, articulating the size difference between the two.

Elated with this bonus—a Lifer for both Braden and me—we headed down to MacDonald Creek to try to locate Harlequin Ducks. We didn’t find them, but got a great look at a Fox Sparrow and heard yet more warblers. By this time our comrades had reformed and we all decided to walk up Avalanche Creek. None of us expected to find the ducks, but at our last stop along the creek, I happened to glance at a shady eddy upstream—just in time to see a large shape disappear beneath the surface!

A Lifer for me, this Harlequin Duck put an end to a two-year search. (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

I grabbed Braden’s arm. “Braden, watch that spot!” A few seconds later, a gorgeous male Harlequin Duck popped to the surface. The duck performed for our group for twenty minutes. I can’t say I got great photos, but watching this happy, rare white-water paddler enjoy the currents is something Braden and I will never forget.

Breaking News: My fall book, Warblers and Woodpeckers: A Father-Son Big Year of Birding is now available for preorder from Amazon. Click Here!