Tag Archives: Helena

Bluebird Day at Browns Lake!

With all of our recent posts about Costa Rica, you’re probably wondering if we ever bird in Montana anymore! Never fear, we do—a lot! Today we report on an adventure that delivered some remarkable early migration surprises. If you’d like to support our work at FSB, please consider purchasing some of Sneed’s books shown to the right—and support a group such as Birdlife International or Audubon that is working hard to protect birds against climate change and many other perils. Remember: all of our posts are written and photographed by REAL PEOPLE!

I don’t know if it’s because of our recent trip to Costa Rica, my subsequent trip to California, or just the usual spring excitement, but I’ve felt especially eager to get out birding in Montana this spring. At least part of it has to with wanting to learn more about the timing of migration, especially in a year in which Montana hardly experienced winter. How would this impact the birds? I wondered. Would we see things showing up especially early? Fortunately, our friend Susan Snetsinger has felt just as eager to explore, so the past couple of weeks Susan and I have taken all-day adventures to some of our favorite western Montana birding locations. Two weeks ago, we visited Warm Springs and the impressively “remodeled” Lexington Street Pond and wetlands in downtown Butte. We were rewarded with a great variety of waterfowl, including Snow Geese at both locations. The highlight of the day was undoubtedly a great look at a Golden Eagle on the dirt road between Racetrack Pond and Warm Springs.

Snow Geese are always something to celebrate in Montana—including this group at Butte’s fabulously restored Lexington Street wetlands area.

A few days ago, though, Susan and I had a different ambition: to post the season’s first eBird checklist for Browns Lake. This is one of Braden’s and my favorite birding locations, and I don’t think it has ever failed to disappoint. Not only is it a go-to place for breeding Red-necked Grebes and Black Terns, we have found a lot of uncommon species there including Long-tailed Ducks, Pacific Loons, and Ross’s Geese. Notably, this is where Braden made the astounding discovery of a Bay-breasted Warbler two years ago—one of just a handful of sightings ever recorded from western Montana.

Although Browns (sic) Lake is frozen for a good part of the year, it has never disappointed us as a birding destination and we were eager to see what it held so early in the spring.

One challenge with Browns Lake is that it stays frozen until relatively late in the season and I noticed on eBird that no one had yet birded it this year. I wasn’t sure if it had begun to thaw, but I asked Susan if she was game to check it out. She was—and even brought along yummy fried egg and cheese bagels to fuel our adventures.

On the drive up Highway 200, we were rewarded by two pairs of Sandhill Cranes and a glimpse of a Mountain Bluebird—perhaps a preview of things to come? We hoped so, and upon arriving at Browns Lake, were not disappointed. Right near where Braden had discovered the Bay-breasted Warbler, we got out of the car to find a delightful “finchy” mixed flock containing Red Crossbills, Pine Siskins, Evening Grosbeaks, and Cassin’s Finches.

We’re not sure why (though fish and/or animal carcasses probably have something to do with it), but Browns Lake often boasts vigorous Bald Eagle activity—and our early spring visit was no exception. Here, two youngsters contemplate the meaning of ice on this brisk sunny day.

As the lake came into view, we were relieved to see at least a third of it offered open water—and that the waterfowl were not shy about taking advantage! Within twenty minutes, we recorded fifteen species of ducks and geese, including the year’s first Montana Northern Pintails and a lone FOY Cinnamon Teal. A flock of 18-20 Snow Geese erupted out of the fields on the far side of the lake and settled in beneath a huge irrigation line. Even though a brisk wind dropped the wind chill into the teens, we looked hard through our scope for any Ross’s Geese, but came up empty.

Elk anyone? Even though they are mere mammals, this herd against the dramatic background induced us to pull over for an admiring look.

As has become my new routine, I directed Susan out the far side of the lake toward the Ovando-Helmville dirt road, and we were rewarded by two Northern Shrikes (Susan is certain they were separate birds), and a couple more Mountain Bluebirds. After turning left toward Helmville, we hadn’t gone a mile when we saw a sizeable flock of birds badly backlit by the sun.

“Are they some kind of blackbirds?” Susan wondered, and they did look black because of the sun, but I didn’t know. Then, she said, “There are more bluebirds over here.” “There’s a couple over here, too,” I added, still thinking they had nothing to do with the flock we’d just seen.

The bottom line? The flock we had just observed consisted entirely of Mountain Bluebirds!

At first, we weren’t sure what these flocking birds might be, backlit against the sun, but this photo reveals the truth.

This blew both Susan and I away. Neither of us had ever seen more than three or four Mountain Bluebirds at a time, and had no inkling that they ever formed large flocks. Yet here was the evidence in front of us, and we spent a good fifteen minutes watching them forage and swirl around us. Once, a group of at least sixty took to the sky together, only to settle back into the grass a few moments later. Meanwhile, others kept crossing the road in front and back of us, occasionally landing on the fence next to our car.

The Mountain Bluebirds were so active around us that I dared not hope to get a photo of one—until this guy perched 15 feet away from the car window!

We finally pulled ourselves away, wondering if local ranchers observed this kind of grouping every year. I later read up on MOBLs and found one or two mentions of them forming flocks in winter, but it didn’t seem like a well-known phenomenon. Susan and I both agreed that these cavity-nesting birds must be migrating. From here would they spread out into the surrounding mountains? Or did they still have a long way to go before trying to find their own breeding territories? As biologist Dick Hutto had taught me, Mountain Bluebirds especially love recent burn areas where woodpeckers carve out plenty of “condos” in the dead trees (see my book Fire Birds: Valuing Natural Wildfires and Burned Forests). I wondered if, as a flock, they might be better at finding recent burn areas—or did flocking impart other benefits such as greater predator or food detection?

After the Browns Lake area, we headed toward Helena, hoping to find a recently reported Lesser Black-backed Gull. Though I’d seen this species in Israel and again in Oregon, this would be a Montana lifer for me and an outright lifer for Susan.

It was not to be.

At the Helena Regulating Reservoir, we saw plenty of gulls, but many were too far away for our scope, and the ones we did see did not have the dark wings we were looking for. The trip wasn’t a waste, however, as we observed more than sixty Common Mergansers and at least ten Red-breasted Mergansers, also clearly in migration. In fact, the window to see RBMEs is quite tight in Montana, so it was nice to pick them up for 2026.

Though we missed the Lesser Black-backed Gull, the Helena Regulating Reservoir was hosting a “regulating” merganser-pa-looza!

Speaking of 2026, both Braden and I have excellent chances to accidentally break our world Big Year records. My record, set last year, is 552, and only a quarter of the way into this year, I’m at 422. This is not as much of a gimme as it sounds since many of the birds I’ve seen in Costa Rica and California are birds I would normally check off in Montana, but with a little luck and persistence, I feel I will get there. Braden’s record, meanwhile, is 867 and he is already at 546, with hopes to bird abroad at least one more time this year. We no longer put a lot of stock into numbers like these, but they’re a fun thing to keep an eye on.

After saying goodbye to the Helena Regulating Reservoir, Susan and I did a little more birding and then got lunch in downtown Helena. I only mention it because we ate at an excellent little crepe place called—what else?—The Creperie. It featured outstanding food and reasonable prices. It’s open until 3 p.m. most days and is located right next to the lower entrance of the walking part of Last Chance Gulch. If you’ve got the post-birding munchies, check it out!

Our first-of-the-year Browns Lake checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S313329879

The Ohio of the West

Ever since learning about it, my dad and I have always wanted to attend the self-proclaimed “Biggest Week in American Birding” at the Black Swamp Observatory in Northwestern Ohio. This festival, set in the “Warbler Capital of the World” in mid-May, may be among the largest in the United States and even the world! In recent years up to 70,000 birders have attended the festival, funding (well, almost) the entire Midwestern economy for months on end. The reason that so many birders flock to this out-of-the-way state this time of year is the same reason we drive out to Freezeout Lake every March: spring migration. Instead of Snow Geese, though, the Black Swamp Observatory’s main attraction is passerines; specifically, warblers. Rivaling the giants of Central Park and High Island,Texas, thirty-warbler days are not uncommon. 

Flocks of Western Tanagers have been a delightful sight the past couple of weeks, both in Missoula and Helena—and have allowed us plenty of practice with our ID skills.

Unfortunately, thanks to a strike by the BWWLU (Blue-winged Warbler Labor Union), the festival shut down this year (oh, and perhaps COVID-19 played a role?), and our chances of getting a slot next year before I graduate are fairly slim, so it looked like we’d have to find the warblers in our own state instead. This May, we scored Tennessee and Blackpoll Warblers in the east, but recently we were given a second chance to snag rare Eastern warblers: the less well-known but possibly more productive month of September. The first two weeks of September in Montana may be the best time for songbird migration statewide, with Westby delivering large numbers of Magnolia, Mourning and other, rarer warblers to those who make the drive. Across the rest of the state, we can always depend on a few wandering warblers to show up, and this year has been no exception.

A few days ago, my dad and I woke up at 6, planning to drive up the Ninepipe valley to look for shorebirds and some reported Mew Gulls. On our way out of the house, though, a Montana Rare Bird Alert email changed our minds—a place called “Nature Park” in Helena had reported Chestnut-sided and Black-and-White Warblers the day before. Soon, we found ourselves driving to Helena for the second time in two weeks.

Northern Waterthrushes are notoriously difficult to catch out in the open, but this one obviously wanted to show off for the Helena birding crowd!

We pulled into the parking lot of the uniquely-named Nature Park, and almost immediately spotted some migrants: the White-crowned Sparrows and Wilson’s Warblers that Montana fall migration was known for. After scouring the trees and bushes for anything rare for 100 meters, we found a wet impression filled to the brim with members of Helena Audubon, including a few people and names we recognized: Sharon Dewart-Hansen, Kyle Strode, and Pat Grantham. Wilson’s Warblers coated the shrubs, and we picked out American Redstart, MacGillivray’s, Yellow-rumped, and Orange-crowned Warbler, Northern Waterthrush and Cassin’s Vireo among the splendid mixed flock. After talking birds for a while with the other birders (both rare warblers had departed), we headed to Warm Springs and then home, energized by the experience.

Breakfast anyone? Several American Redstarts were putting on a show, and it’s always amazing just how much food they can find!

Today, we were given another opportunity for an Eastern warbler closer to home. I had just sat down for the evening to work on my Calculus homework when Nick Ramsey, who had recently started school in Louisiana, called me. 

“Cole Wolf just reported a Blackpoll Warbler in Greenough Park, you should check it out!”

“I’m on it,” I said, swatting my Calculus homework aside like an annoying younger sibling.

I hopped in the Forerunner and was at the Northeast corner of the park before even Cole had been given the chance to drop his dogs off. 

“You got here quick,” he said, and we quickly found the bird again high in a Ponderosa. I snapped some decent photos before it disappeared. Upon showing the photos to Cole, he squinted.

“That actually looks more like a Bay-breasted,” he said, showing me the fall-plumaged Bay-breasted on the Sibley app on his phone.

Not being Eastern birders, my dad and I have never experienced the difficult identification of Blackpoll vs. Bay-breasted Warblers in fall migration. As more birders began to arrive in search of the rarity, I picked up some ID tips from each of them on distinguishing between the two similar plumages.

After about forty minutes, half a dozen more birders had arrived, but the warbler had not shown itself. Other birds kept us entertained for a while, primarily a Merlin snacking on a siskin and a particularly tame Pileated Woodpecker, but the passerine pickings were slim. I headed back towards the bridge at the top of the park, ready to head home, when I glimpsed a dull yellow bird with obvious wingbars in a bush next to me. 

“I’ve got it!” I said, waving the rest of the birders over. While they watched it hop between cottonwoods and mountain ashes, I called my dad.

“You need to get down here!”

Though perhaps a little drab to other birders, this rare Bay-breasted Warbler was a thing of beauty to the Western Montana birding crew!

He arrived just as the last of the birders headed out, and we continued searching the areas where I had seen it. The day grew dark, however, and most of the birds that had been active earlier had disappeared. Nick, meanwhile confirmed via text that the consensus on the bird on the Montana Birding Facebook page was that it was a Bay-breasted, based on buffy undertail coverts, faded spectacles, and black legs. This was definitely rarer than a Blackpoll, which would have been a treat by itself!

I couldn’t refind the bird for my dad, so we headed back to the cars. In the trees next to the street, though, I could hear chickadees, and I held up my binoculars, hoping for another mixed flock. A Warbling Vireo passed through my vision, and my hopes began to rise—there had been a WAVI with the warbler last time we had seen it! Sure enough, the tiny yellowish warbler hopped into view again, alongside several Western Tanagers, and my dad got great looks! Maybe we didn’t need to travel to Ohio to find Eastern warblers after all.

Stumbling After Sparrows

Sparrows. A simple word that can elicit groans from the most experienced birder. Even after six years of dedicated birding, I feel like I am just beginning to grasp most sparrow identification, let alone sparrow behavior and song. With Braden’s help, I can now figure out most of Western Montana’s species, but put me in any new environment and I’m like a birding babe with a binkie.

It’s always great to see Chipping Sparrows back in Montana—even if they add to the sparrow confusion this time of year!

Earlier this week, I had the pleasure of speaking at the Helena public library, followed by a lively Last Chance Audubon meeting nearby. The next morning, I decided to sneak in some birding before heading back to Missoula. I first chose a local site affectionately called the “K-mart Wetlands.” This was my first time at the ponds during spring migration, and my pulse raced as I heard the haunting call of a Sora from the cattails. That was followed by my FOY (First of Year) Common Yellowthroat and a flock of more than twenty Yellow-rumped Warblers.

I was fortunate to run into a Helena birder name Jeffrey Olsson who said, “I heard a Clay-colored Sparrow down at the end there.” Though Braden had done his best to educate me about this bird, I drew a mental blank. “What does it sound like?” I asked Jeff. He repeated a buzzy sound for me. “Great. Thanks,” I said and headed off down a fenceline in pursuit. Amazingly, I heard the distinctive call, but didn’t catch sight of the bird.

No question, Lark Sparrows are some of the most stunning sparrows of all. This was only my third sighting in Montana.

I did run into a large number of Chipping Sparrows along with a single White-crowned. After completing a loop of the end pond, I looked out into a gravel patch and spotted a lone bird foraging for seeds. “Clay-colored?” I asked myself, quickly raising my camera. It wasn’t. Instead, it was something just as exciting—a lone Lark Sparrow. After seeing one with Braden and Nick Ramsey only a couple of weeks earlier, the Lark got my pulse racing, especially after I managed some good photos. Alas, I still didn’t glimpse a Clay-colored—or so I thought.

While taking photos of the Chipping Sparrows, I noticed some with duller brown head stripes instead of the usual bright red. I assumed these duller sparrows were females, but they also seemed suspicious. Later, back at home, Braden confirmed something I’d been pondering. The “female” Chipping Sparrows were actually Clay-coloreds! Once again, it was the struggle over identifications that inched my knowledge forward. While it’s a certainty I’ll misidentify many other sparrows in the future, each time I run into these interesting little birds, my brain connections grow. Which, of course, is what makes birding an endless adventure.

Sparrow On!

No, not a female Chipping Sparrow after all. One of several Clay-coloreds I watched at the K-mart ponds—without realizing it!