Tag Archives: sandpipers

Montana Shorebird Surprise

We’re sharing our most recent birding adventure in reverse order. The day before chasing the wily White-Tailed Ptarmigan, Braden and I had an incredible outing at Benton Lake National Wildlife Refuge (see also The Best Prairie Day Ever). Normally a go-to place for grassland birds and waterfowl, Benton didn’t seem likely for the birds we most wanted to see—shorebirds. Were we in for a surprise! Here’s Braden’s report.

Visiting the Pacific Ocean this summer and having several great days of birding there did nothing but increase my drive to find shorebirds. Between Monterey, the Bay Area and Point Reyes, I had seen species like Red Knot (my lifer), Black and Ruddy Turnstones, Red and Red-necked Phalaropes, Short-billed Dowitchers and more. Now, I was ready to see these and other species during my short stay in Montana before heading back to college in Maine. However, seeing shorebirds along the ocean, where there were miles and miles of great habitat for thousands of birds to choose from, was one thing. In Montana, shorebirds were often hard to find, even during their peak migration in August and September. Two autumns ago, my dad and I had birded hard, visiting the Ninepipe Valley half a dozen times as well as Helena and Three Forks in a quest to find shorebirds. While we had found most of our target species eventually (including finding Baird’s and Pectoral Sandpipers a handful of times and Western Sandpiper once), we found very low numbers across the whole season and missed our main target species, American Golden-Plover. This was fairly normal for Western Montana.

This year, on our way to Glacier National Park for an entirely different bird (see In Search of the Wily White-tailed Ptarmigan), my dad and I decided to seek shorebirds at refuges along the Rocky Mountain Front. I’d seen several reports of large numbers of Stilt Sandpipers at Freezeout Lake in past Augusts, and so we thought maybe we could find some of them there. And so, two days after I arrived home from California, we woke up at four in the morning and headed for Great Falls.

Unfortunately, we didn’t find that much at Freezeout. A few yellowlegs and Solitary Sandpipers picked the mud along the shoreline of the ponds, and we ran into a small flock of Baird’s Sandpipers right at the end of the driving loop. Overall, the refuge—famous for its spring Snow Geese—had been disappointing. However, that didn’t really matter given that we had gone to Benton Lake National Wildlife Refuge first. 

As soon as we arrived at Benton Lake, flocks of Baird’s and (probably Greater) yellowlegs greeted us.

Benton Lake normally did not seem to have good shorebird habitat. Every May, when we would come here to get our Upland Sandpipers and Chestnut-collared Longspurs for the year, we would drive by cattail marshes and open grasslands—not mudflats. The drought in the West this year had been changing everything, though. Bowdoin, one of the best refuges in Montana, had such low water levels that ducks were hard to come by. At Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge, the ponds on Duck Road had disappeared by May. The upside? Some lakes that previously had been terrible for shorebirds suddenly had extensive mudflats filled with millions of tasty invertebrates for these arctic migrants to feed on. Which is what happened at Benton Lake.

With high numbers and some close approaches, Baird’s Sandpipers proved to be the highlight of our Benton Lake shorebird extravaganza. Baird’s are larger than peeps (though some people group them together), and are identified by their black legs, robust breast markings, medium bill, and wings that extend out over the tail.

In fact, as soon as we arrived at the first pond, a large flock of small shorebirds lifted off from some distant mud, speeding over another flock feeding in the shrinking lake. My dad set up the spotting scope and we quickly determined that both of these flocks were primarily composed of one of Montana’s most common fall shorebirds, Baird’s Sandpipers. As we scanned these favorite sandpipers, we marveled at how much individual variation there was within each group. Though every bird was of the same species, each differed slightly in color, size, shape or bill length, allowing us to learn about what features confirmed a bird as a Baird’s. Soon, I noticed several more Baird’s on the shoreline next to us less than ten feet away, allowing us to get even better views and great photos. However, Baird’s were not the only species out on the mudflats. During my scan of one of the more distant flocks, I spotted a taller sandpiper, with a longer, more curved bill and thick supercilium.

“Stilt Sandpiper!” I yelled, and my dad was able to glimpse the species before the whole flock took off again. That same flock held a few peeps that I struggled to identify, debating whether the bills were long enough for Westerns or if the colors were right for Least or Semipalmated. Despite having some practice with peeps, they always manage to confuse me.

We moved on to the next pond, where more shorebirds waited. More Baird’s flew circles around us, and we spotted a huge group of dowitchers lifting off in the distance, complete with both species of yellowlegs. Solitary Sandpipers foraged on the shore, alongside Killdeer and a few Leasts. Near the end of the final lake, I spotted two Pectoral Sandpipers, another one of our targets, picking invertebrates off the rocks right next to the car alongside our only Wilson’s Snipe of the day! We’d never had better looks or photos of any of these species, and never in these high numbers! At least the drought was creating some good.

Right along the road, we got our best looks ever at several species including this cooperative Pectoral Sandpiper, distinguished from Baird’s by its yellow legs, larger size, and more extensive and abrupt cutoff of markings on its breast.

Our most astounding discovery happened as we were picking through another flock of Baird’s Sandpipers, searching for something unusual. As I looked up, I spotted three striking black and white birds flying towards us, and my heart rate jumped. They landed a short distance away, and I stared at them through my binoculars: three Black-bellied Plovers, still completely in breeding plumage! While we’d seen these birds in Montana in previous years, we’d never had such an experience with their breeding colors! They hadn’t been on my radar at all, either, though perhaps they should have been.

Black-bellied Plovers weren’t even on our radar, so imagine our delight seeing three fly in—and in full breeding plumage! (Note the Baird’s Sandpipers next to them.)

My dad and I had finally done it. This was the shorebird experience we’d been hoping to have in Montana for years, and Benton Lake, not any other famous shorebird hotspot, had been the place to provide it for us. The next day we’d leave the prairie behind and head for the mountains of Glacier, though hopefully our year of shorebirds wasn’t quite through!

As usual, peeps were hard to pick out, but we did get a great experience with a Least Sandpiper near the end of the driving loop.

Parker River NWR and the 3 Ps of Birding

If it’s one thing we at FatherSonBirding hammer over and over again, it is the 3 Ps: Planning, Persistence, and Preparation.

Okay, actually, we have never talked much about this, but it’s a catchy concept, isn’t it? The 3 Ps, in fact, came very much into play recently when, after our rather disappointing birding in Boston, Braden and I headed up the coast to a place Braden had carefully researched (P Number 1) ahead of time: the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge.

One of the gems of the New England coast, Parker River NWR turned out to be our favorite birding spot of our week-long sojourn.

I had actually never heard of Parker River before, but Braden learned about it from some online birding buddies and checked it out to see if it was “visit-worthy”. His verdict? Definitely. Not only might we collect a handful of Life Birds there, the refuge protected one of his top ABA target birds: Saltmarsh Sparrow.

Now, I have to say that when we visit a National Wildlife Refuge, I generally expect a pretty low-key, rarely visited location. Imagine my surprise when we encountered a mini traffic jam waiting to get in. In fact, it became evident that the refuge served not only to protect wildlife, but as a critical outdoor outlet for congested coastal Massachusetts. Our visit started auspiciously with a stop at Lot 1, where we got a quick fly-over of a Baltimore Oriole—the only one we would see on our trip. Crossing the highway, we encountered an even cooler surprise: the closest looks we’d ever had of Semipalmated and Least Sandpipers! This was especially useful after the ID struggles we’d had with birds in eastern Washington only weeks before, and it really helped us examine the unique properties of each.

As we moved on, though, Braden felt pessimistic about seeing Saltmarsh Sparrows. He had Planned. He had Prepared himself with knowledge. But Boston had put an “unlucky” vibe in his head. As we made our second stop along the refuge’s main road, however, he suddenly shouted, “I see them!” Indeed, not thirty feet from us, at least four or five fairly nondescript little birds bumbled about in some tall marsh grass, seemingly not knowing what they were doing. “They seem like juveniles,” Braden surmised, and having studied this species quite a bit, he would know.

Saltmarsh Sparrows used to be lumped with Nelson’s Sparrows as one species, the Sharp-tailed Sparrow. As its own species, however, the Saltmarsh Sparrow occupies a narrow range of saltmarsh habitat along the East Coast and, in fact, requires this habitat for nesting. Because of this, it is at extreme risk from higher sea levels caused by climate change, and its population has been steadily declining. This makes protecting places like Parker River NWR even more important—and made us feel especially privileged to have such a close experience with them.

Our amazing experience with Saltmarsh Sparrows proved once again that persistence just may be the most important attribute of a successful birder.

Leaving the Saltmarsh Sparrows, we continued to hit other places in the refuge and were rewarded with a host of Year Birds, and two more Life Birds: Purple Finch and Great Crested Flycatcher—our number one ABA need to that point. Which all demonstrates the third P of birding: Persistence. Sure, luck plays a role, but just getting out there again and again will eventually take luck out of the equation, something we learned for the thousandth time at Parker River.

Click for a link to our largest Parker River checklist. Crazy migrating swallows!

Great Grassland Birding

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After our Montana Big Year last year, Braden and I opted not to simply chase a high species count this year. In 2021 we decided to a) explore new places b) find some new Life Birds and c) revisit favorite birds we’d spent time with before. When we set off on our five-day central Montana trip last week, however, neither of us realized what a rich grasslands experience we would encounter.

It began with an almost mandatory annual pilgrimage to Benton Lake NWR. We both tend to think of Benton as a place full of ducks, grebes, and other waterfowl—including a dependable pair of Black-crowned Night Herons—and we found these birds in abundance. Immediately upon entering the refuge, however, I hit the brakes for an unexpected surprise: a pocket of four Upland Sandpipers! While not rare, these ungainly-looking dinosaur holdovers always delight us, and to see four together constituted a birding bonanza. What’s more, we found three more UPSAs at Benton, along with the other great grasslands shorebirds Long-billed Curlews, Willets, and a lone Marbled Godwit.

Clockwise from above: Upland Sandpiper, Long-billed Curlew, & Willet

Our day had just begun, however, as we decided to try to find Stilt Sandpipers at a fairly isolated lake north of Grass Range. Again, we found the sandpipers, which were hanging out with at least nine Bald Eagles, but it was the grassland birds along the dirt roads that most impressed us. These included four more Upland Sandpipers, Western Meadowlarks, Eastern & Western Kingbirds, Lark Buntings, and at least four other kinds of sparrows. One of these was a drab bird Braden never expected to see on our trip—Brewer’s Sparrow. Though we were well within its range, we’d never found one in this area, which just shows how much you can discover if you get off the beaten birding path!

With their bold “pied” colors, Lark Buntings are one of our favorite grassland species—but spotty in many areas.

As we were approaching a left turn, I suddenly stopped and whispered “Look ahead.” About twenty yards in front of the car stood a Sharp-tailed Grouse—one of six we found on this particular route. Not only that, it posed beautifully giving us by far our best looks ever at this species. This species helped compensate for our miss on Mountain Plover, an unfortunately uncommon species extirpated from most grasslands by habitat loss or modification, especially the removal of bison and prairie dogs, and the conversion of short-grass prairie to many types of agriculture. Hopefully, we’ll find one next time!

Braden and I never turn down a grouse while birding, and this Sharp-tailed gave us one of our best looks ever.

My second favorite grassland bird experience of the trip happened two days later at Bowdoin NWR, when we had a wonderful experience watching a Grasshopper Sparrow singing on top of a stubby cactus. With my crappy ears, I can no longer hear this bird, but this one decided to give me a break by posing in full view where we could watch and photograph it. Which may leave you wondering what our BEST grassland bird experience of the trip might be? I’ll let Braden tell you about that next time!

Beginning birders often dismiss sparrows as LBBs—Little Brown Birds—but close inspection reveals a marvellous diversity of patterns and subtle coloration. Grasshopper Sparrows, for instance, are identified by their yellow faces and single thin brown line extending back from the eye.

Smokin’ Birds

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Very Unhealthy. That’s what Missoula’s air quality had been pegged at for the last five days, thanks to smoke from the catastrophic fires raging across the West. Braden and I were supposed to stay indoors, but faced a huge problem: fall migration, when waves of birds were traversing the state. Birds we could only see now. What to do? Simple. Go birding.

Unlike our past few outings, we decided to stick to the Missoula Valley, and began by heading out to Frenchtown to see if we might catch a rare Sabine’s Gull or Greater White-fronted Goose. We arrived at our intended water-filled gravel pit and what did we see? Exactly one American Coot on the water. Then, we spotted some action in a few sad-looking invasive trees along the road. We sauntered over to discover a delightful assortment of American Goldfinches, Yellow-rumped Warblers, and Lincoln’s Sparrows, along with a surprise Red-naped Sapsucker, a species we thought would be long gone by now. A duet of American Pipits flying overhead capped off our visit.

Even though Yellow-rumped Warblers are our most common Montana warblers, it’s so much fun to see them moving through in big fall groups.

After an uneventful stop at the Frenchtown Slough, we headed to our main destination, Mocassin Lane. This road is always hit and miss for us, but in previous years runoff irrigation has created muddy pools that sometimes attracted shorebirds. Since we’d had fairly dismal luck in our last few outings, we harbored no real expectations, but we hit the jackpot! Setting up our spotting scope, we identified a surprising assortment of ducks, and then focused in on our real treasure: shorebirds. “There’s a ton of Wilson’s Snipe out there,” Braden said, scanning slowly. “Oh, wait. I’ve got a Pectoral Sandpiper!” In fact, there wasn’t just one, but 17—the most we’d ever seen at one time. It was also the most snipe—13—we’d ever seen in one place. Other delights included a lone Red-necked Phalarope and more than twenty pipits. It was a great chance to study birds we rarely came in contact with, and we spent a good hour enjoying them.

How many shorebirds do you see? This photo perfectly encapsulates how challenging it is to detect, observe, and identify species. See what you come up with—answer at the end of the post!

https://ebird.org/checklist/S73744019

Our outing yesterday was by far our best look ever at Pectoral Sandpipers. The striped breast and yellow legs are distinguishing marks for these handsome birds.

After our big shorebird score, we thought we’d exhausted the day’s luck, but at Council Grove State Park we again landed amid a great assortment of birds including the Nuthatch Trifecta (Pygmy, White-Breasted, and Red-breasted), another Lincoln’s Sparrow, and a late-season Spotted Towhee. The highlight? A Merlin and American Kestrel perched face-to-face on a bare branch. We couldn’t tell if they were trying to make friends or face off like Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef in a spaghetti western. Either way, it was a great cap to a great day that netted us 55 species, firmly sending us into record territory for September birding. Meanwhile, our Montana Big Year totals now stand at 256 species for me and a whopping 263 for Braden. Take that, fire smoke!

Falcon Stand-off: “A bird with a rifle will win over a bird with a pistol any time.”

Shorebird Answer: Well, I count at least nine shorebirds in this photo including at least four Pectoral Sandpipers, one Killdeer, and four Wilson’s Snipe—with a couple American Pipits thrown in for good measure!

Fighting Our Way into Fall Migration!

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Spring migration traditionally sparks furious activity by both birds and birders. If you want to see a ton of species, you’d better hit spring migration—and hit it hard. Fall migration, on the other hand, is often pretty much ignored. At least Braden and I ignored it until the last couple of years. Then we discovered that we’d better get our tail feathers out there in fall if we want to see  some key species—especially shorebirds.

You wouldn’t think that Montana would be a great place for shorebirds. After all, shorebirds like, well, ocean shores, don’t they? Sure, but a surprising number of shorebird species pass through Montana every fall on their way to their wintering grounds. That doesn’t mean that finding them is easy! Especially here in western Montana, finding shorebirds can take persistence and dedication. We began our fall shorebird pursuit last week with a trip up to Ninepipe National Widlife Refuge, about an hour from our house. We were especially hoping to find a Short-billed Dowitcher, a rare Montana visitor that we still needed for our Year List. And guess what? No dowitcher. I did add Least Sandpiper to the year’s tally, and we enjoyed a terrific visit with a perched Peregrine Falcon, but clearly, (more) desperate measures were called for.

As the Rolling Stones sang, “You can’t always find the birds you want,” but we’ll take a visit with a Peregrin Falcon on any outing!

A few days later, Braden and I left the house at 6 a.m., heading for Helena, where large numbers of shorebirds had been reported during the past week. We made stops at Lake Helena and the Helena Valley regulating reservoir and saw some nice birds, including some pelicans, but . . . no shorebirds.

One of the great difficulties of IDing shorebirds is that they are often far, far away, necessitating hours hunched over a spotting scope. Unfortunately, our scope is not the best, either. Swarovski or Zeiss or Leica, are you listening??? We’d be happy to mention your name in the next ten posts for a free scope!

Heading south, we reached the day’s major destination, Canyon Ferry Lake. After spending thirty minutes on a fruitless search of one area, we finally reached the place hundreds of shorebirds had been reported just two days earlier. Thankfully, a few—a very few—still remained. That, however, was only the beginning of our challenge because this time of year, shorebirds are even harder to identify than usual. Mixed in with adults that are losing their breeding plumage are countless juveniles who, frankly, are a real pain in the butt to ID. Fortunately, Braden had been studying like crazy and was able to pick out Baird’s, Semipalmated, and Least Sandpipers—and a Year Bird for both of us, Pectoral Sandpiper. Hooray—but where had all the other shorebirds gone?

After much searching, we finally located a flock of Baird’s Sandpipers at the Willow Creek Reservoir near Harrison—along with a nice raft of American Pelicans behind them.

We decided to chase them by driving to a place neither of us had ever birded—Willow Creek Reservoir about thirty minutes south of Three Forks—and there, we found at least some of the missing Baird’s Sandpipers that had been farther north before. In fact, we found a flock of 64 of them, along with a pair of beautiful American Avocets. Even better, hiding among them were two “Semis” and a Western Sandpiper—another Year Bird for us! We drove the long route back to Missoula tired but satisfied. Fall migration doesn’t have the glamour and wow factor of spring, but for the patient, it can reap a beach full of rewards.

It takes some real sleuthing to discern and ID sandpipers, but Braden found this Western Sandpiper (center) and the Semipalmated Sandpiper (behind it) among a flock of 64 Baird’s Sandpipers (the other two birds)!