Using this Blog

In order to read the trip reports, refer to the below. I've put the reports in the archives in their natural order, rather than blog order (last post first) That means ignore the posted dates, and refer to the dates in the posts themselves.

WARNING: If you're not a fanatic bird lister, some of this will seem real boring.

This project is not completed, so some disorder is to be expected.

Ten day Gulf Coast trip is archived in February 2007
Platte River Crane viewing is archived in March 2007
Mississippi River lower valley is archived in April 2007
Ten day Kansas etc trip archived in May 2007
New England trip is archived in June 2007
The Northern Prairie trip is archived in June 2008
A fall trip to the Four Corners is in November 2008
A trip truncated by hiccups is in May 09

Logistics and techniques

Goals

I got into birding in the early 90s, and it gradually became one of the great sources of joy and satisfaction in my life. At first, I focused on seeing as many different species as possible, called working on a life-list. I told myself that when I'd seen 200, I could start feeling competent, but that only took a few months since I started from something over 100 seen and identified with just ordinary curiosity. So I said 300, but that only took a year or so. 400 was more of a challenge and by then I was starting to have some skill, but was also becoming aware of how many more species could be found with moderate effort. I was hooked.

When I joined the American Birding Association, it was clear that their minimum goal was 500 species to get your name published, and half the species seen in a state to be named for that area. So I knocked off my home state and several adjacent ones in easy reach. By then I was somewhere near 600, and it was getting harder to find new species. In 05 I added 11, in 06 it was 2, and one year it was a single species. I got the thrill recharged by being a conscious total ticker, someone who keeps a list in every state, and works on adding tics. Somewhere in there I got the notion that I wanted to see at least 100 species in all 48 lower US states, and that's the current project. The end is in sight. It's a nice goal; state by state it's not hard usually, I generally have some sightings already recorded when I focus on a target, and it makes me really travel and look at the whole country, and in the process get a good understanding of distributions and seasonal patterns.

Planning the trips requires carefully working out a route that maximizes potential species and minimizes distances and gas costs. I tend to be drawn to borders and places where several states meet like the boot-heel of Missouri, or New England. I get a perspective over several years as well, since different seasons present a variety of opportunities, eg, there's spring New England trip, a fall migration one and someday a deep winter foray. Since I'm independently poor, that is, not cursed with a lot of income, but also free of a lot of expenses, I make the whole production as low cost as possible, meaning eat and sleep as cheap as I can and spend the travel funds almost all on fuel. That will account for some of the details of the items that follow.

The truck

I travel in my 2000 Ford Ranger, 4WD, king cab, which replaces two earlier small pickups. It has a camper-shell, aluminum, with side opening windows and a rear lid. The inside has had various shelves and nooks built in that are where I usually keep the tools of my trade, which is a hodge-podge of building skills used to maintain, modify, add-on-to, and generally care for a number of old buildings in the town where I live, as well as make displays for the various shops there. The buildings range from Victorians on the National Register to more modern things up to the mid twentieth century.

When I'm on a birding quest, the trip always starts with piling tools from the truck into the shop, though I usually leave a few just in case of friends in need along the road. Then I load it with sleeping and other fittings to stay tolerably comfortable for several weeks. I always forget something, which is why I have doubles of lots of things, the originals that got left behind, and its replacement bought along the road. I've bought towels, several pillows, various underwear, tarps and ropes and minor camping gear like mosquito coils.

The stuff in back

A mind working at the beginning will remember: blankets, sleeping bag or two depending on anticipated weather (Minnesota in winter is two zero degree bags), pillows, towels, dirty clothes bag, detergent, a container of personal maintenance items, some kind of pack with clothes and another for backpacking if I'm feeling ambitious. Usually several pairs of footwear; sandals, rubber boots, extra hikers. There's usually some kind of bag of books for reading and lots of bird-finding reference stuff. Then the spotting scope and tripod, water bottles, a small lantern and flashlight and a headlamp, the pee bottle, some rags and then impulsive last minute items or junk and bother acquired along the way.

The sleeping setup is a four inch thick foam pad that is cut to fit the floor of the shell, a heavy cheap sleeping bag to cover it, and sometimes a sheet, even though they get tangled and dirty easily. It's more comfortable than the bag lining in warm weather. Depends on my aggravation tolerance. Always two pillows, makes it easier to set up a comfortable reading position. My primary sleeping bag is an almost forty year old North Face "Ultralight". When I took it into the factory one time people gathered around to admire it, it was one of their first products, then they put four ounces of new down in it, and voila, better then new. Zipper and Velcro still work, and I've slept under it at least a thousand times.

I sometimes take along a large water cooler jug in a five gallon plastic bucket. It makes a convenient campsite washing-up arrangement. Sometimes there's an ice chest too, especially when encountering hot weather. Cold drinks can be the key to revival at the end of a day. Keeping food cold is secondary, since there are usually plenty of opportunities to replenish at C stores or groceries at least every other day, and not buying much at once lowers the chances of spoilage.

The stuff in front

The truck has a king cab, meaning extra storage behind the seat, and there's a lot of leeway there for just stuff. At least a propane camp stove, tarps, blankets, water bottles, fuel bottles, binocs, cameras and other gadgets, state road atlases, spare jackets and sweat-shirts, backup laptop computer, and so forth. The passenger seat has a little wooden office contraption that holds the laptop used for GPS, and space for bird guides and magazines. There is a charger for batteries, the cel-phone, the iPod, and an inverter to run the laptop. I usually have one good road atlas handy on the floor for marking routes traveled and planning. The GPS doesn't have a very good format for large overviews, and the atlas I favor has lots of public campgrounds marked, especially ones in National Forests, which is great for figuring out where to end each day.

The GPS is so central to my trips that it deserves more comment. I use DeLorme Street Atlas on a seven year old laptop, which works great. All trips start in deep winter wishing for getaway. So once I've visualized a rough and over-extravagant route on the wall map of the whole US, I'll get some bird-finding information, including books, pamphlets, web sites, downloaded pdfs, places mentioned on birding listservs, and word-of-mouth recommends from friends and folks met along the road. The next step is plotting and labeling the various sites that look interesting in draw files in the software. This is useful and sometimes aggravating as hell.

The descriptions of how to get to places are often incomplete, and so working out the actual locations can take some time. Road names often change or are given in forms that don't show in the software. Distances may be confusing. Landmarks may not be indicated. Fortunately, water features usually are and that can give vital clues. But if the effort is made during dark winter nights, a lot of time is saved when the quest is actually on. Sometimes alternate routes manifest. though caution is advised since the software maps have roads shown that are private, closed, gated, impassably rough or muddy, and just plain non-existent. This isn't so much a failing of the software as of the old county level maps they use to produce their maps. Just as frustrating is whole cohorts of roads not indicated at all, which has been worst in National Forests. A lot of times if it looks like I'll be spending time in those, it's best to get the official forest maps. These are usually big and unwieldy, and have gotten more expensive than the good old days of $4 a pop. A lot of times if you go to the ranger stations there are less detailed versions available that just show roads and campgrounds. That's ideal usually.

General approach

A typical day starts before first light, either by spontaneous awakening, generally prostate motivated, or by alarm clock. If the weather is mild and the bugs not bad, and if the setting doesn't require a lot of privacy, then the back lid of the shell is open just in case some owl starts calling in the dark or at dawn. If possible I try to park in places where owls are a possibility. Usually I try for sites in parks that are on the edges of the campgrounds near woods. The alternative is a a site with the sound of running water, just because it's hypnotic, and I like to think engenders good dreams. Surprisingly, this really works, and every third or fourth night I'll get to hear some kind of owl, or dream well.

After dressing, which can be thrilling if it's really cold, I'll drink some coffee saved from the day before and eat fruit or whatever. If I've managed to stay in some good habitat, especially if it's a target birding site, then I'll spend from an hour to all morning birding. Sometimes on colder mornings the truck has to warm up, and on really cold mornings it has to run until the computer is warm enough to boot up. I may have a planned route for the day, or maybe impulse rules, but in any case most of the day will be spent birding. Lunch is C store or fast-food, so called, often neither fast nor even food. Sometimes I get something big enough to serve as lunch and dinner so that I don't need to be near a town at the end of day. I'll fill up the coffee cup and thermos at the last possibility and then manage it so there's some left for morning and get whatever will work for breakfast. The one thing I'm trying to avoid is breaking up the morning birding when it's generally at its best.

Days usually end with getting to a camping site; National Forests, Wildlife Management Areas, and State Parks preferred. The latter are good for showers and sometimes even laundry. I generally avoid private KOA type camping, they're good for amenities, but a little pricey and usually have very little attractive habitat. State Parks are usually reasonable away from the ocean coasts. If possible I hope for free and uninhabited by other folks. The WMAs are good that way since there are often primitive campsites and no-one about when it's not hunting season. Experience has shown that it's best to plan ahead and be nowhere near civilization, so-called, on holiday weekends in mild weather. The campgrounds are often full or noisy until late at night, and the traffic is a waste of time and gumption.

About email: There are a lot of places to get on-line for free. The best are public libraries, and many of these keep their wifi on at night so you only have to park outside. Motels are good too, but sometimes require passwords. The likelihood of that is inversely proportional to the distance from an Ocean coast or a major city, ie, closer equals more likely. Paranoia factor. There are Internet cafes too, and I like Panera Bread joints since they have good reasonable sandwiches and baguettes. Whatever you do though, do not sign up for their newsletter. It never stops. The link for removing your name from the list is bogus. Usually Holiday Inn Express is a good choice, Super 8 is terrible, they try to install spy-ware when you connect and it usually takes a re-boot to get control of the computer back even if you have spy-ware blocking working.

Before sleep and after dark is the time for record keeping. I mark the days route in the big road atlas, save the GPS log for the day, enter the day's sightings in AviSys, the national standard list keeping program, and calculate my statistics for the day, nothing complex, just the new tic totals and percentages. Maybe I'll look over the site info for the next day. It's the time for showers and laundry if possible and if I'm not just whooped I'll read something non-birding, novels or history or ...

Cautionary tales

Mud: Several times I've encountered impassably muddy roads. The first and worst was just over a blind rise, and I was stuck before I knew it. Required the proverbial walk to the farm-house and beg the tractor. The folks were very kind. Another time I was aware of the hazard, but tried anyhow. When I came to my senses it was difficult to steer the truck backwards in 4WD for a couple of hundred yards until I could get turned around safely. Other times I didn't even try.

Gas: There are areas of western rural America where it can be fifty miles or more to a station. And they're usually one person operations with a tendency to close around five or six. You can park there all night waiting for the dawn opening, which fortunately is usually quite early. Client driven operations. Best to never get under a half tank out there without starting to look for a fill-up opportunity.

Lousy food, old coffee: Speaks for itself. Generally a good idea to taste the coffee before driving off. Sometimes at the end of the day they won't make more, but then at least you can dump in more sugar.

Insects: I've been held prisoner in a tent by ten thousand mosquitoes. This is why you need a pee bottle. Seed tick encounters can be handled with duct-tape wrapped sticky side out around your gathered fingers. Adult ticks I just pull off, contempt born from years in Arkansas where they are the state invertebrate.

Bad guys and girls: Usually surly overworked counter-folks. This is your mantra; "I'm not in a hurry, I'm not in a hurry" Strike up some conversation, be kind. Yield and leave if necessary. These folks are also sources of very good and very bad directions. They often know of local camping places not on any map. Unfortunately the proof of quality is in the pudding.

Mechanics: Most, especially in small towns, are honest if not widely experienced (you're in luck if you bird from an 8WD diesel tractor). Otherwise, they don't survive where word-of-mouth operates. The rip-off situation is larger places, 10,000 plus population where your out-of state license is a red-flag. Best to ask some locals, more than one, before committing. I got an excellent mechanic in Rawlins, Wyoming that way.

Really bad guys: This happened several years ago. I tell this to show a worst case scenario. You could live a hundred lifetimes without anything like it happening; the world, at least the US, is a surprisingly safe place and people are generally kind. No general culture of lethal revenge, no religious warfare. But one time I parked at the locked gate of a refuge in a drenching rain and settled in as night fell. It was about 100 feet from a two lane paved county road. Perfect site for owl listening if the rain let up. It was really dark except for some distant yard lights and I couldn't hear much because of the drumming on the thin aluminum roof. I had finished reading, turned out the lights and was half asleep when I heard a couple of car doors slam. I figured it was a cop or two checking on me, which happens now and then, and they're generally just concerned and helpful. Never been told I had to move. In fact been told it was OK to stay even though it was not so officially. Birders exude goofy harmlessness.

Anyway, I looked out the back lid and there was the outline of a large SUV with a couple of figures coming around to the back. What was curious was that even though the headlights were on there were no lights on the back, and no interior light even when they had opened their back lid. Certainly no license plate light. In other words, it was really dark and rainy and noisy, and I couldn't see anything but vague silhouettes. From each side they leaned over and seemed to pick up something large and heavy, and then together carried it to the brush along the edge of the dirt lane we were on. Remember I'm watching this from less than fifty feet away parked right in the open. They returned to the front of the SUV, got in, again no dome light, and drove off, no brake lights like the pedal was depressed to get in gear, no backup white lights like most vehicles do when shifting into gear, just the full headlights pointing away from me into the pouring rain. They drove away. I never heard any speech since the shell was closed and the rain thundering on the roof.

At that point I panicked. Quickly got dressed and got the truck started. I figured I'd seen a drug drop, and had no desire to be around when the next vehicle came for the pickup, even though I had a brief vision of a suitcase full of cash. So I'm backing out carefully onto the highway, it was hard to see, and I needed to make sure I was in the firm part of the lane since a mud event was a really bad idea. It was pouring, standing water already on the lane and in the side ditches. As I got to the paved road and backed out the headlights swept across a large undefined lump of some white and a lot of blood red. Like a body wrapped in a sheet oozing blood. I was freaked out. I got out of there quickly, afraid every minute that I would encounter another car-load of bad guys and they would somehow know that I was a witness. I didn't stop driving until halfway across the next state, in pouring rain the whole way.

I made one call to a friend with an FBI connection, but the contact had faded and I let it go for the time being. Even though I'd gotten away from the scene and was presumably safe, the sense of threat and horror wasn't going away. As I drove it was becoming clearer how much danger I'd been in. I had no doubt that if those folks had realized I was watching they would have killed me also. I was not hidden, I was not far off, quite the opposite. I have to assume that they were night-blind from driving with headlights, that they were in a hurry both from their fear and that they were being drenched, probably that they were well practiced also. That was no ordinary vehicle, the lack of lights indicated a careful electrical kill switch set-up. Good for me, life-saving in fact. If they'd had a single light I would probably have been seen, and that would be the end of my life-list.

I don't know that there's a lesson here or not. I have still kept sleeping in the truck, but not like that for a few days afterwards since there were campgrounds and truck-stops to use. It was a PTSD setup, as I know from my work as a psychologist for the VA. Exposure to an unpredictable, uncontrollable, life-threatening event. I remember having some vivid and scary dreams in the weeks following. But I haven't avoided similar situations, since it was such a unique event. I sent an anonymous report to the authorities through my lawyer, for some reason still wishing to be unknown personally as a witness (the professionalism of the perps still scares me), but nothing has come of it and I have no further information.

Lake Leatherwood detailed directions

For Lake Leatherwood City Park in Eureka Springs, Arkansas

Lake Leatherwood City Park located about a mile west of Eureka proper at the foot of the Leatherwood Curves. Go to the second entrance, not the ballfields. There's 1600 acres of mixed habitats in the park, including the 160 acre lake itself. I've documented around 190 species over the course of ten plus years. That's about half the species ever seen, even just once, in Arkansas. The area around the bath-house and cabins, with widely spaced mature trees, is excellent for passerine residents and migrants. The lake shines in fall and winter as a duck attractor, and during the spring and summer can be very good for herons, and a few shorebirds. The rocky parts of the lakeshore are good for Spotted Sandpiper in spring migration, also the small sandy beach area.

Two side detours from the cabins can also be productive. One is a short loop from the boat launch ramp. Follow the shore until another path cuts back to the left returning shortly to the launch. The tangled thicket between the two paths has been very productive for warblers, sparrows, and kinglets. If you follow he shore further it's possible to see a lot more of the lake, including the deep water which has had an occasional loon, also mergansers, cormorants, and other divers. The second side trip is an old road to the side of the gate leading to the dam. It's an open path into a classic cedar glade, grown up some from fire suppression. The sandy soil has a great patch of pennyroyal in late spring, as well as wild orchids if you're lucky. It usually has several pairs of Blue-gray Gnatcatchers, and sometimes Prairie and Blue-winged Warblers.

Going from the cabin area down the gravel lane to the large meadow allows access to the bird blind. But first a productive side-trip is to go right to the far end of the meadow, staying left as you approach the gate, then edging around the maintenance yard to the outflow pipe of a good spring. Residents and migrants find this very attractive, especially in hotter dryer weather. Return through the meadow, (I follow the creek bed on the right listening for Louisiana Waterthrushes), and then cross the creek into the small meadow. Stop right at the crossing. If the little meadow has no folks camping, and you're early, you can often see a variety of ducks or waders before they flush as you cross the meadow. The bird blind is to the left, and the start of the Beacham Trail is to the right. Large trees along the lakeshore attract several pairs of Orchard Orioles, and Eastern Kingbirds. The area of the bird-blind is very good for seeing these, as well as some herons (it's a good place for Green Herons in summer) and Wood-Ducks. Approaching the blind quietly and slowly can pay off with some real close up views through the ports. Note that Woodies are very shy, arriving early and quietly is the key to good views. Luck helps. Worth the effort since they are one of the most beautiful critters in North America. Linger in the meadow, especially watching the brushy lake edge and the large sycamores and a dense cedar thicket.

At the inlet end of the lake where the Beacham Trail starts, is an area of mature bottomland hardwoods, which attracts migrant and breeding warblers and such. When the trail branches to the right, follow it for about two hundred yards. This is a reliable place for Blue-wing Warbler, Northern Parulas, Kentucky Warblers, Worm-eating Warblers, Chats, Acadian Flycatchers, several Vireos including Yellow-throated, and a general selection of woodland species. There are also numerous Cedar Thickets, which can be deserted or hosting foraging mixed flocks. The cedars are also a good place for sparrows, and White-eyed Vireos. Thrushes like them too, especially Hermit Thrushes in winter. Listen for their "chup" call note. Brown Thrashers make a very similar sound and are present but seldom seen. When you reach the creek, either return or wade, or walk the creekbed if it's dry. When you've studied the area thoroughly, return to the trail fork where you turned right initially, and turn right again so the you continue on the Beacham Trail.

The trail quickly climbs a wet north slope before starting it's return loop on the far side of the lake. It's usually not very birdy, but occasionally has half a dozen Golden-crowned Kinglets in late fall. The real attraction along here is in the spring when the wildflowers bloom. It's the spot for trout lilies very early in spring, then bloodroot and trillium, followed by Jack-in-the-pulpit. A very occasional bloomer along here is the False Hellebore. It's one of the few places in the state where it's found, it being a relict from populations that retreated north following the glaciers. When you descend to the small inlet, you're in another warbler zone. Look for Louisiana Waterthrush along the creekbed, also Black and Whites and Ovenbirds. Scarlet Tanager is a possibility here. On the far side of the inlet stop and listen for Prairie Warbler on the hillside above. Sometimes it's possible to find them by following their calls into the cedar thicket up there. If you've been birding intently, it's probably been around three hours since starting. You can continue on around the lake for another mile and a half, crossing the quarry for the historic stone dam and the dam itself. If lunch beckons it's quicker to retrace your way back to the cabin area where you probably parked.

To get a more detailed knowledge of the park, attend one of the several public hikes put on locally or by Northwest Arkansas Audubon.

The Hiccup trip of 2009 - Overview

On May 6 2009 I set out on a proposed long western loop planning to finish my goal of 100 species per state in that direction. About the second or third day I had a meal that set off some hiccups, no big deal. The next day they continued sporadicly, and the next. They gradually got worse, but not enough to keep me from birding. Finally near Valentine NE I called my regular physician. Comedy of errors, but not funny. The next day I headed home hoping to access some prescription meds. Another screw-up. Kept driving home while the hiccups turned to esophageal spasms that made breathing impossible for 1-2 minute spells, happened several times. Finally got home, and the problem abated in about three days. Wasn't a very successful birding trip, but the account follows nevertheless.

Missouri Driving, May 6, Wednesday

The plan was to travel north with stops in Missouri, into Iowa, then along the upper Mississippi River on the Wisconsin side, Cross back southward into Minnesota hoping for eastern woodland species, clip South Dakota, cross Nebraska, and then Wyoming and Colorado. There was more, but it was moot as it developed. I started in the usual way, unloading tools and loading gear, always forgetting at least one useful thing. My start was late enough that I headed straight for Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, which gets a lot of coverage from the Columbia birders. It's a big chunk of habitat, but didn't have the shorebirds I had hoped for. I went into Jeff City to the Runge Nature Center, but didn't have enough time to stay long. I needed to get to Thomas Hill Res for camping. The primitive camp I'd stayed in before was closed so I slept in the primary campground near the bridge that crosses the north end of the lake. I wasn't able to find any new species in Missouri.

Into Iowa

May 7, Thursday

Things started looking up in Iowa. My first stop was a spur of the moment turn around when I passed Pioneer Ridge County Nature Center. Really nice place for a county park, with a beautiful visitor's center, and a lot of good habitat with water features. I found several warblers as well as other woodland birds, some new tics. Stayed well over an hour and regretted it wasn't longer, but I needed to get to Neal Smith NWR. It was very good for sparrows, but a continuous drizzle made it less enjoyable than my hopes. I walked the whole prairie loop from the VC. Note that this is a place with an excellent bookstore for prairie information, especially detailed botanical publications. I had downloaded a pdf of sites, called "The Makoke Trail", around Des Moines, and started methodically checking them out with the Neal Smith stop. I was particularly interested in Saylorville Lake, which has consistently produced sightings of vagrant and desirable gulls, but also had shorebird and woodland habitat around the area. I wanted to get a feel for the area, and what kinds of camping was available.

I stopped at the Visitor's Center, grazed the information, then started up the east side stopping at most of the sites in the pdf. The shorebirds were absent, bad timing on my part, a south wind had swept everything further along an their migration, and no new birds had accumulated behind a wind shift. At the north end the trail blended easily into Ledges State Park, a very interesting piece of geology with several well preserved CCC structures. I got a campsite there, $11, good deal with showers, and made the first of three drives through the park and vicinity. When it got on toward evening, I headed into Ames assuming a college town would have some fast food joints and wifi hotspots. KFC was the wrong choice that day, even though it's usually a favorite. Something about the food set off some hiccups, which were still going the next day, but not really a problem. I got a shower, which I've noted was challenging, something about the plumbing or stall geography. No trouble stopping the hics when lying down by briefly holding my breath.

May 8, Friday

Made another loop of the park, took some pictures of the CCC buildings, poked my nose in brushy edges and played the owl tape inside some woods, then headed off to find some other sites. Harrier Marsh wasn't too birdy, but did have a Harrier. By Far the best site that day was Hendrickson Marsh, which had a fair selection of waterfowl and somee miscellenious woodland birds in cottonwoods along small drainages. I didn't check the urban parks, but probably will when I make another visit to the area when I get another chance to work on the Iowa list. From there I drove on to Belleview State Park with its great view of the Mississippi River and a lot of good warblers hanging in the trees on the bluff. It started raining around 6pm, and I ended up sleeping 12 hours while it continued. The hiccups continued as well. I picked up 15 Iowa tics by days end, very satisfying, even with few shorebirds.

Wisconsin and Minnesota

May 9, Saturday

It had cleared off to partly cloudy and windy and cool, stayed in the fifties all day. I crossed the river and went just north into Wisconsin which is blessed with a big thick and pretty good bird-finder book. I basically stayed along the east bank of the river, and made a lot of stops from the book. There were a lot of good sites, and just stopping on the sides of two lane blacktops worked well. One site was a dirt road under the riverside railroad that extended most of a mile into the river, marshy with Cottonwoods along the road, several good birds including a Bittern.

The main reason I had taken that route was to check out Trempeleau NWR. Well worth the trip, spent three hours there, very good habitat variety with tall grass remnants, and riverside mature woodlands. I found some good sparrows including Grasshoppers that came flying low to the tape. In the one day I added 23 tics for Wisconsin and made it to 30% of the species on their list. I would stay more in WI, but their state parks are expensive, with a substantial penalty for those from out-of-state, and a yearly charge as well that makes the first night something like $30+, so I never spend the first night, just make forays from the more reasonable surrounding states.

I still had to get back across the river into SE Minnesota, crossed at Winona, and stayed at Beaver Creek Valley State Park. That was a great place, pretty isolated at the end of the highway, a narrow wooded valley with steep hillsides all around. It had some of the species I'd targeted for possible Eastern wood-landers, like Louisiana Waterthrush and other warblers, but not as many as I'd hoped since at that latitude it was still early spring. I had time to bird briefly in the evening before falling out. Hiccups persisted and were more troublesome. At first it had been just "hiccup", but now I was getting aftershocks, so "hiccup, hic" or even "hiccup, hic, hic, hic" Also harder to suppress with breath-holding, and with a new startup any time I awoke for urination. My ageing prostate makes that a common occurrence. Not a great night's sleep.

May 10, Sunday

Dawn was cool, about 45F, but the dawn chorus was whole hearted, since it was the front edge of breeding season. I hiked several of the park trails, climbed one of the ridges for a view of the valley, and found five new MN birds there. But... My notes say, "Pain and discomfort all day, allergies, hiccups, bloated." The hics were wearing me down, using up the gumption that usually gets used dealing with the hassles of travel. I drove over to the town of Albert Lea, probably on the chance of seeing a Gray Partridge, my super nemesis. Well, I missed it again, maybe the tenth time at least. From there back into Iowa for a stop at Union Slough NWR. The tour route was closed. Across the road there's one pool that can be scoped from the highway, and it had the most beautiful, perfect breeding plumage pair of Red-necked Grebes I've ever seen, photo or otherwise. Just stared and stared. Somewhere down the road I found a motel with wifi and posted a notice to the Iowa list-serv.

Farther west on the way to Sioux City I found a county park by a lake. Habitat was not good, way too manicured, but I poked around in brushy patches and scoped the lake. Went to bed early, beat and "moderately miserable".

Finish Iowa, into Nebraska

May 11, Monday

I was awakened by Willets flying down the lake, and found some other birds as well, gulls and a late duck or two. The hiccups were gone until I ate something, then vengeance. I went to Picalt Nature Center on the northwest edge of Sioux City, nice place with good trails through good habitat even though the building was closed. It's in a state park, but I've not timed it yet to camp there and catch the dawn action. I ended up Iowa with 25 new species for the state, which put me at 36%. Pleased.

Into Nebraska, first stop at Ponca State Park. That is a must see for birding, on the Missouri River, good woods and grassland habitat beside the flyway action. The park has a conservation area attached, managed by the same guy who told me wondrous tales of shorebirds on the Migratory Bird Day count the weekend 2 days past. I went to the places he showed me on a photo map, but there was hardly any critter to be seen. The cold weather I'd been through had parked the migration for a couple of days, but the wind had shifted to the south so everybody had headed north. I headed further west to Niobrara. The hiccups had become relentless and it was about then that I figured out that the stirring of upper GI by poor bumpy jumpy two lane roads was a real problem. The hic,hic,hic was relentless.

I was trying to figure out some way of reducing the aggravation to the sensitive spot at the esophagus/stomach junction, called cardia, which seemed to be the trigger point. I tried anti-gas OTC antacid meds, to relieve pressure, and aspirin to reduce pain-receptor sensitivity as well as maybe getting blood pH more acid, which is what breath holding does. Nothing worked very much. I was also trying to find food that wasn't greasy and aggravating, but the ranching heartland is not a place for fruits and vegetables. Maybe if you're a cow and grass is considered a veggie. I ended up with a Buffalo burger, at least the meat is really lean and it didn't make it any worse. Niobrara State Park is just outside town so I retreated there after driving the road along the river as far as it went in both directions and the park roads.

May 12, Tuesday

Sleep was lousy with every pee setting the hics off again, and stopping them becoming a two minute breath hold until I thought I'd pass out. Trick was that when you started breathing again, it had to be very gently. A big gulping breath meant relapse, and then the whole drill again. The morning started beautifully, but turned gray and windy and decidedly cooler. I headed west on route 12, another roller-coaster, and made a stop at The Niobrara Valley Preserve, a Nature Conservancy place a long drive back a dirt road, but well worth it. Wish I'd felt better. I did get some sympathy fro the woman, wish I'd got her name to say a personal thanks, who was taking care of the little office and VC. She offered water and bananas, and books and stories. Some human contact and comfort. The birding was good but nothing new except Pine Siskins. They have a policy of no bird feeders, but still the open space around the office attracted sparrows and finches.

Next stop was Fort Niobrara NWR, with it's predictable Burrowing Owls. I forgot to look for Mountain Plovers; they were probably there. That's a measure of the disorientation I was getting into. I had exhausted my ideas for relief, so I called my doctor at home in Arkansas. His idea was Thorazine suppositories, which I was okay with, just a really deep sleep, but when he called the only pharmacy in Valentine NE, they didn't have it. His next idea was to rent a motel room, go to the hospital ER, and get a Thorazine shot and have a cab take me back to the motel. Somehow being the star of a fifties psycho thriller with the nurse hitting me with the needle and me dropping to the floor, well... Not to mention the truck with all the gear and optics unwatched, not to mention the ER charges, not to mention the trank hangover. I rejected my physicians advice and started driving toward bigger cities where I could get the meds as tablets. At that point driving south and east, I was having two hics per three breaths, with aftershocks, sometimes 8 or 10, until I wasn't sure when I'd get to just breath again. I'd end up shaking myself hard to get the spasms to stop, jumping in the truck seat at 50 mph.

I managed to make it to Nebraska National Forest, strange place, a CCC experiment in planting an evergreen forest in the Nebraska sand-hills. The trees survived, but the forest wouldn't spread naturally. The restrooms and showers were closed. It started raining. It rained all night, a great thunderous hailstorm with ice lumps that dented the camper-shell, which is like sleeping inside a drum being beaten randomly with a baseball bat. Did I mention the hundred car coal trains that run along the edge of the forest, complete with two mile horns at the crossing a hundred yards away. About every 20-30 minutes. I did get the hics to stop enough that they at least weren't a problem, but still there was little rest that night.

Retreat and home

May 13, Wednesday

No hiccups in the morning for a while. It was drippy but clearing, and I begged the use of the restroom at the Forest Service office, so the day was started okay except for grogginess. My first try for meds was in Great Bend, but the biggest pharmacy in town, a WalMart, didn't have what I needed. At least they didn't laugh at me while I hicced my way through the explanation. When I got near enough to Lincoln to get a local phone-book, I was able by calling around to find a place with the right stuff, but it was too late to get ahold of my Doc. Golf day. So I went to an Audubon sanctuary, Spring Creek Prairie, and found some shorebirds on a little pond there, but I mistook Semipalmated Sandpipers for Westerns, since I didn't have my bill lengths calibrated. Figured it out later while killing time before sleep. I went into Pioneers Park on the west edge of Lincoln, and then back out of town to Conestoga Rec Area. I was very tired, and it was a quiet place, so I ended up getting some decent sleep, with only minor hiccing interruptions.

May 14, Thursday

I went back to Spring Creek Prairie at dawn, but didn't turn up anything new. I was gone before they opened the VC, so never got to fix the sighting report from Wednesday. Back to Pioneers Park, but first a stop for a big grease-ball breakfast, hoping to get some rebound from food. The place had wifi too, a truck-stop with an interesting collection of twenties gas station memorabilia and some atmosphere, but they were about to move and re-build, no doubt something soul-less. At Pioneers Park I was in cel-phone range and started making calls. The Doc was in surgery for the morning, but i gave the info to the nurse, who promised to call me as soon as he had talked to the pharmacy. So I birded around the park which was pretty good when I was able to get away from the school groups. They had a little Nature Center where I talked with the attendant and watched the hummer feeders hoping to see a Ruby-throat, which I needed for the NE list. It never showed. Spent a lot of time sitting on benches breath holding and then sitting very still and breathing slowly for relief.

When it got to be noon I went and sat in the truck with the phone by my side waiting for the nurse's call. Five hours later there hadn't been one. I figured I'd offended the Doc, who isn't noted for bedside manner, and I just gave up and started driving for home. I set my route to Pass Indian Cave State Park, and was able to find a Barred Owl and a hummer in a flowering bush that I stopped to look over on an impulse as I drove by. Hiccups were bad, the aftershocks were turning into real lock-up spasms of glottis and esophagus. Three times before sleep I thought I might never get another breath, pretty scary. especially driving. A rational person would have considered me a fool to persist, but I wasn't rational anymore, the only thought was to get home. I got the last meal at the McDonald's in Mound City after my first choice was closed, and spent the night in an Interstate rest area south of there. More thunderstorms and hail and trafic and other noise including pine cones falling off some trees in the wind. They make a good thump too.

May 15, Friday

Off driving early, about five hours to Eureka Springs. Jim Fain the Naturpathic Doc showed me a real simple trick to stop the hiccups. Lean your head back and pour a packet of dry sugar as far back in your throat as possible and then swallow without water. Bingo. I t would last twenty or thirty minutes, but was easy to repeat. Got a decent meal at the Oasis, favorite local good food place, went home and slept until the next morning, when I seemed way better. I figured at the end, thinking back over what had been the worst parts, that road food didn't help, and jostling a tummy full of it on bad highways was a real problem too. Simply not getting any decent sleep threw me into a bad feedback loop. Anyway, they never came back, throat was a little irritated for a day or two, but that stopped too. It wasn't a stellar birding trip, but I did add 69 tics and got past forty percent in Nebraska, so there were some minor achievements. I had a chance to ask the nurse why she hadn't called; she said she just assumed I'd go to the pharmacy.

Four Corners Trip Overview

I made a trip west, mostly in New Mexico, Utah, and Colorado, in November 2008. I was sorta hoping to break 7000 total tics, and fell just two short. Normally it wouldn't be a good time for birding for new species on state lists except that several states had very few waterfowl and it was a good time to catch them going or arriving south. I was also just plain needing to get out of town, and gas had become suddenly affordable again.

The basic route was west through Oklahoma and across the Texas panhandle, then diagonally southwest across New Mexico. I spent several days in Silver City, where I had lived, to visit friends and strenghthen old relationships of various kinds. From there it was north farther than I'd planned into Colorado, clipping a corner going to Moab, Utah, and some more friendship boosting. A prime focus of the trip was Bear River Refuge in northern Utah, which lived up to my hopes, then a short excursion into Idaho, and a corner of Wyoming, back into Utah at Flaming Gorge, then eastward for three days in Colorado, and homeward across Kansas.

The weather on the outbound leg was clear and mild, the nights slightly chilly as I gained elevation. The altitude headache lasted four or five days, but was mixed with a standard cold and some allergies. On the way back I got to see the world freeze up before my eyes as a big cold front came down the west side of the Rockies.

Highlights were several bright nights around the full moon on the outbound leg, lots of Great Horned Owls, Sandhill Cranes and Snow Geese in New Mexico, Snow Buntings on the south edge of their normal range, a herd of Bighorn Sheep at Red Canyon, two chasing in a circle around the truck, and four Tundra Swans in Kansas. I was more sucessful than I'd anticipated in finding new tics, even getting four in Texas. The whole trip took 16 days, and cost about $1600, including nice meals and some books and maps.

And I had some great visits with old friends, Bob and Diana Leyba, and Patrck Mulligan in Silver City, and a renewed crush on my old crush Laura Ramnarace. Managed to get in a good visit with Serena Supplee, the great Colorado Plateau artist, even with showing up un-announced.

Arkansas to Muleshoe NWR in Texas

November 10 - 11, 2008

I left Arkansas via Ft Smith after a nice drive down the Pig Trail, Highway 23, and stopped for gas at one of the cheapest stations in the state. Very pleased to fill up at $1.82/g. I took a byway that paralleled the Interstate into OKC, looped south of there, more byways to avoid a Turnpike, and was eating in Lawton before heading into the Wichita Mtns NWR somewhat before sundown. It had rained the whole way from Arkansas, but the sun came out as I got onto the refuge. I stopped at a parking lot at one of the lakes there, just looking for ducks, but found an unfamiliar looking gull.

Dark gray back and wings, black wingtips, medium size judging from the pace of the wingbeats, bright white tail, and duller white head. That's looking through the windshield before stopping the engine. I jumped out hoping for a closer look, went out to the end of a dock there, but couldn't find it again. Field guide study came up with the closest fit as Lesser Black-backed. That's a remarkable bird for OK, so I knew it wouldn't be something folks would be inclined to believe. Figured I'd get somebody to check it out and see if they could refind it. I headed for the visitor's center, thinking there might be something in the sightings book, but arrived minutes after closing. I tried a call to Eric Beck, a top-notch local birder that I had a number for, but could only leave a message.

Anyway. I was hoping to maybe find either a Burrowing Owl or a Short-eared Owl. Drove by a couple of Prairie Dog Towns, but had no luck. At the second I did meet a couple of guys who were also looking for owls. One turned out to be the former Super of Malheur NWR in Oregon, a place I'd stayed years ago and found excellent. Ended up camping and falling in love with Steen's Mountain in the distance. They hadn't had any luck with the owls either, and the list showed both as occasional, ie, not easy to get. I later found that there were BUOW at another dog town on the refuge. The habitat seemed good for SEOW, tall grassy big fields with indicator Harriers about, it may have been too early in the season, we hadn't seen any real cold weather yet.

I stayed there until almost dark, then drove back slowly watching the fields for the big bat-winged birds. Stayed at Doris campground, no owls there either, and was back to the dogtown before first light. I love watching the sunrise on the prairie, and quite a few birds started showing up in and around the dogtown; the short grass and bare ground must be attractive in low light. Finally it got late enough for the visitor center to open, and I checked the sightings book. Nothing about LBBG. I wasn't about to commit anything to the book, I hate that stuff after experiencing the disbelief of people who weren't present. I don't know how those asswipes can say I have imagination when they imagine that they can do remote viewing. Possibly unfortunately, I ended up mentioning the sighting to one of the staff, and as I was leaving he stopped the truck and put me on his phone to a guy who was a local prof. So I went through the description as clearly as I could, without trying to sound sure. He said he'd alert some locals to look. Also got a call from Eric finally, and he said he'd look too. There never was anything about it on the list-serv. so I guess nobody found it.

From the Refuge to the Texas border isn't too far, and I was trying to decide whether to go to Palo Duro Canyon, or just head on straight to Muleshoe NWR. Decided on the latter, more direct, free camping, and probably better birding.

Muleshoe NWR, TX to Bosque del Apache NWR, NM

November 11 - 13, 2008

When I got to Muleshoe it was fairly late afternoon, but before closing hours. Unless of course it's Veteran's Day. So I couldn't get a checklist or anybody to quiz about sightings. I wandered around, drove to each lake and playa, found some usual suspect ducks, and maybe thirty Sandhill Cranes at one place and about fifty at another, but nothing really exciting. Well, anyway, I could look at the campground which I remembered as a treeless barren place, but fortunately my memory was missing some stuff. There was a nice brushy dry creek bottom along one edge, there was a bit of bottomland Cottonwoods, big enough to support some territories. Beyond that was a trail along an arroyo that had a different feel from the campground creek. The three together ended up being some great birding. The whole zone was packed, lots of White-crowned Sparrows, others including Clay-colored and Fox, both good TX tics, Roadrunner, Great-horned Owl, two kinds of Thrashers, a flock of Eastern Bluebirds, and in the morning, my first TX Eurasian Collared Dove. Four new tics in a place where I'd hardly expected to see a bird.

The night was the first cold one of the trip, heavy frost in the morning, and saturation moonlight as it approached full, a high winter moon. Up early trying for any dawn chorus action. Tried the office again at 8, but nobody was there. I headed north and a little west to Grulla NWR. The TX/NM border is it's eastern fence. It's the biggest playa lake I've ever seen, but it was almost dry and any birds were well overa mile away, and me not inclined to walk down in. It's a geological puzzle, almost exactly round, with high sides in a mostly flat country. I later started wondering if it might be a meteor crater, or maybe a collapsed salt dome, but haven't had time to follow the question. Anyway, it wasn't a very birdy start on New Mexico.

From there it's about a hundred fast straight miles to Bitter Lake NWR outside Roswell. I ran the tour loop there, fairly good waterfowl variety, but no outstanding numbers. Did nail a Ross's Goose for NM. I needed gas, and was grossed out by the $2.47 in town, finally drove into a station and when I reached the pump it was $2.29. They had just changed it on their computer. That lifted my spirits some. From there it's about three hours driving to the Rio Grande valley and Bosque del Apache NWR, one of my focal goals. The drive is a lot of old bumpy two lane blacktop, but you do get to go through Lincoln County where Billy the Kid has become a local industry. They have a pageant dedicated to a psychopathic killer. Tourism at its best.

It was still a couple of hours to sundown when I got to BdA, and I was able to drive the tour loop. Good numbers of Cranes and Snow Geese, but nothing like my first visit years ago in February. The elevation drop had let things warm up nicely. I had hoped there might still be some shorebirds, but my departure from AR had been delayed enough to lose that possibility. As it got dark, I headed into town, Socorro, for overpriced fast food (a misnomer on two counts), and then went west up the mountains to Water Canyon, about twenty miles, and stayed there. I read through the New Mexico bird finder, and it turns out to be a very good place in spring and early summer, especially for night birds. Maybe I'll try next spring.

Back down in the dark next morning, after another cold bright night. I got to the refuge about sunup and got to see some of the big flights taking off. I was more interested in passerines, which were really weak on my NM list, so headed to the south end of the loop where there are a couple of trails through wetlands and dessert. Had an excellent morning. Several new Sparrows, a Marsh Wren, a Verdin which was only my second ever, and sharing it's bush with a Brewer's Sparrow, a late Ash-throated Flycatcher, and several other satisfying sightings, quails and hawks, thrashers and Western Grebes. The best section was a piece of dirt road below a small bluff along the south edge of the pool that the trail circled, which had a great combination of cover, perches, and water edge. Great morning. I was still intersted in getting on toward Silver City, and hit the road a little after noon.

Black Range and Silver City

November 13-16, 2008

Thursday: The turn off from the Interstate into the Black Range is just south of Truth or Consequences, known as TrC to locals. At first it's just a long climb across typical NM dessert, but then it starts twisting and seriously climbing, passing through Hillsboro and Kingston. Coming into Hillsboro I saw a sign for "New Mexico Birding Trail", so stopped in the general store to ask if they knew anything about that. Met a birder easily enough, Patty Woodruff, who had advice, but after trying three places, we couldn't find a site map. She's interested in some enterprise organized around the hundredth birthday of Aldo Leoplold, a festival or business, not clear, but she was gonna email some questions, which never happened. Too bad. I eventually found a map in Silver City. More importantly, I got a great hambuger with Green Chiles, one of the five basic food groups. The others are salt, sugar, grease, and chocolate.

Patty and another bird-wise person recommended stopping at Emory Pass, where I'd had a great night once with astro-geeks and big telescopes. Beyond that was Irons Creek campground, and Gallinas Canyon, where I'd once eaten a formal Thankgiving dinner, complete with china and silverware, set up on folding tables out in the open, an inspiration of the unforgettable Bob Erman ("Wood works for me, I would work for thee"), and his wife Polly. I made stops at all those places, not very birdy late on a cool afternoon except for more Brown Creepers than I'd ever seen in one place or one day, maybe half a dozen.

On into Silver City by the back north way through Mimbres and Santa Rita, home of an immense copper mine, one of the world's biggest excavations. That's a whole 'nother story. My main focus in SC was visiting old friends and renewing our affections. First on the list was Patrick Mulligan, who had been my partner in carpentry in Philadelphia, and was the last remaining close male friend after five years of deaths among my cohort. Second was Bob and Diana Leyba, a couple also from Philly, who in fact had introduced me to Pat at a party at their Germantown house. My first stop in Silver was in front of their art supply store, called Leyba and Ingalls. There was a parking space waiting for me. After a couple of hours talking to Diana, who I'd met when she was in my home-room at an alternative high-school in Philly, It had become a lifelong friendship. I headed over to Pat's house and spent a couple of hours there hearing tales of mountain biking and retired desperation, told with the exquisite timing of a perfected political and social curmudgeon. It was great. Back at Diana's the three of us went to Jalisco's for good Mexican and then they gave me a tour of an array of buildings they've rehabbed and rented, Bob, a pro painter, was pleased to show off his handiwork. They had a guest house too, big bed, hot shower, and a lizard who crawled between the sheets for warm company while I slept. That was a thrill.

Since I'd lived in Silver, i had a lot of other acquaintances that I hoped to see. One was an old heart-throb named Laura Ramnarace, Irish-Indian who I'd corresponded with for awhile after leaving, but those things often fade. Even the contact with Pat and B&D had gotten thin. Diana encouraged me to give her a call, and I left a message. I was very pleased when Diana told me the next day that Laura had called back. We made arrangements to go hiking on Saturday.

Friday: I stopped by Pat's early, still chilly, drank coffee and told stories, then headed up Little Walnut Rd to the picnic area. Good birding, even got a couple of tics, Acorn and Hairy Woodpeckers. I had gotten my start birding while I lived in Silver, but hadn't hooked into the serious birder network and its resources of books and groups. So I was pleasantly surprised at how many birds I had missed through lack of skil and not knowing where and when to look. I found the local internet cafe and did some catching up, worked on reading the books I'd brought to get through long evenings, watched a movie at Diana's called "Mirror Mask", very Jungian, Slept well, but still had three headaches, one from a cold, one from allergies, and one from altitude. They all faded before the trip's end.

Silver City Part 2

Nov 15, 16

Saturday: More reading and hanging at store and cafe until Laura showed up. She was in the middle of a project for work, and somewhat time squeezed since a co-worker was staying the weekend to work along with her. She knew of a place to go hiking at Bear Mountain Lodge, which I'd seen advertised in birding magazines. Nice place, lots of trails in typical habitat fro the area, no birds I'd not seen the day before at the picnic area. Which didn't matter much since we were mostly talking intensely about what had been happening in our lives. First she caught me up on news of her daughters, then aboout herself going back to college and getting not only a BA, but an MA from a more challenging school. Like somebody waking up to her true self, suddenly a setting where she could use her intelligence and drive, and the organizing skills from raising three kids mostly alone. Then we started talking about people dieing. She had spent something more than a year involved in her mom's decline and demise, with all the stresses and sadness. I told her about my mom as well, plus went down the roster of all the close men friends who I'd lost in the last five years, Not just friends, but my mentor, and my favorite Uncle. I was teary by the time we got done, and found a Buddha on a viewpoint. Folks had left coins and mementos, so I left the Buddha token that I'd been carrying in my pocket for over a year for comfort with impermanence. It seemed to belong, and I figured I could get another when I got home.

That was the most thorough telling of the accumulated losses that I'd done with anyone and twas a relief, as well as a sudden binding and recognition between us. I had said I would probably leave the next day, but she said it would be good to meet again after the project planning was done. That made sense to me when I figured out how much I'd needed that contact. She dropped me off back at the internet cafe, I met her friend, she said goodbye with hugs and kisses. And when I checked my mail, there was an email from my best friend in college who'd I'd lost track of for around forty years. He found my address on some Ivory-bill site, I don't even know which one, but it was like a gap closing that I'd forgotten was there. The rest of the evening was back with Bob and Diana, watching videos of her grandchild, then noshing at a store opening, and general goofing. It felt like a day when something important had changed.

Sunday: I got up early and had a biscuit at McDonald's, then hung around with Pat until 9 when we met up with Diana and Bob for a nice breakfast at a little place up from the store. More green chiles. I guess about 11 I set out up the Pinos Altos road to check out birding sites in the Gila NF. I wasn't expecting a lot from the campgrounds along the road, but had some hopes for higher elevation species on Signal Mountain at the firetower. According to the GPS I was within just over a mile of steep road when I turned back, since the road was slick icey packed snow on the north side of the mountain. Just have to try again in the spring. I'd already decided for certain to make it back on my projected spring trip to pick up some more NM tics, try some backup sites for Flamulated Owl, and mostly check back in with Laura.

I still had hopes for waterfowl at Lake Roberts, and that did work out. Once I'd figured out the good spot for the scope and was working over the birds one by one, a woman ranger from the Fish and Game agency stopped and got out her big binocs and we searched for goodies. Hooded Merganser was good. Also Gadwall and Western Grebe. There were decent numbers and fair variety. Worth the trip. It was getting late and cooling down and I headed back to Silver to meet Laura for dinner, then we went to her house to watch a movie and cocoon on the couch. More good talk, and she showed me a lot of her soap-making operation, which has been a big success. They were multi-colored and -shaped and -fragranced with essential oils, made with good oils and Shea butter. She gave me samples and knew I'd be showing them off when I got home. When I did that there were rave reviews.

Back into Colorado, then Moab etc

November 17 - 19, 2008

Monday: It turned out to be a frustrating day. I got all my stuff from Diana's guest house and she had done a load of laundry for me. What a great friend! Somewhere along the road I discovered that I hadn't brought my extremely useful Lands End jacket, given by my mom years ago. Diana later checked the palces where I might have left it, and it was gone, gone. Anyway, I headed northwest out of Silver and made several short stops at NM birding trail sites, but no new birds. Took minor roads along the western edge of the state, and up thorough El Malpais. Got some good birds there, a Golden Eagle close and on the ground, and a Merlin flying along a cliff face. Stopped at their eastern Info Center, the BLM version, and got their bird list. Have to say it's the finest production I've seen from a public agency, great work.

I had been reading the New Mexico birdfinder book, and decided that Bluewater Lake a little west of Grants looked like a good place to bird and spend the night. Grants seemed to have changed since the last time I was there in the early nineties. I remembered it as a dirty, gritty, poor and desperate place. It looked a lot better, and felt friendlier. But I just grabbed a bite, so can't say for sure. Got to Bluewater Lake, nice place, big and empty of folks, no staff it seemed either. Not many ducks, but there was an arm that I couldn't see up. A little map studyshowed I had to go back to the Interstate, then take another local highway to get back there. It was about three pm, and somewhere along there I figured out how far it was and how long it would take, and started looking for an alternative. The road atlas showed another state park a little further along, with an easy exit. Guess what? No exit by that number, no signs of any kind for a park.

It was getting dark, and I headed north on the highway up the eastern edge of the Navaho Res. All the way to Shiprock in the dark, and no camping. By then I'd decided to just get into Colorado, and the atlas showed two campgrounds near Dolores. When I got ther I couldn't find them, the atlas didn't have enough detail, nor did the GPS software. I drove around here, then back then ther then back farther until I just got frustrated and headed into the National Forest to look for a roadside parking place. Found a good one, slept well. Getting colder.

Tuesday: I woke up and figured out I was a little south of the Home Creek Rec area on McPhee Reservoir. That was one of the elusive campgrounds from the night before. I just hadn't gone far enough, a mismatch in my scaling from the atlas to the GPS. It turned out to be a pretty good spot, with lots of Common Mergansers, and lots of Bald Eagles, at least twenty. Before I left I also found one Hooded Merganser, and a durable Great Blue Heron. There were four lakes around Dolores and Cortez, and I got sort of systematic. The inlet end near Dolores for McPhee had holding pools that suppressed dust blowing into town, and a Bufflehead. I stopped at Narguinnep Res, which the Colorado birdfinder hadn't spoken well of, but it had a lot of birds with good variety. Also a couple, local birders, who sent me to other good sites.

One was the dam for McPhee, which had a Western Grebe, and the dirt road beyond it proved good for sparrows. Then as recommended I went back through Dolores and south around the east side of Totten Res. which had lots of waterfowl, mostly Coots, but a few others. The last stop was Danny Park on the east end of Cortez, a pond really, but with a Red-breasted Merganser. Trifecta on mergs. I ended up with 7 new tics by around noon.

From there I decided it was time to get on to Moab, I could make it before dark, and I was anxious to see Serena Supplee, good friend and great artist. There was one more stop the couple had recommended, just into Utah, wher Gunnison Sage-Grouse had been seen. I bit, even though I live under a curse to never see certain galliforms. Scanned the area four times with a scope, curse was effective. On to Moab, where I'd lived for a year in the early nineties. The drive up was beautiful, as always, renewing my acquaintance with red-rock hoodoo country. The town was kinda overrun with tourists then, but had now reached the truly disgusting stage. Endless motels, "attractions", condos, and what not. Still the scenery is magnificent, too steep and rough to settle buildings on, and thus self-protected mostly.

Serena was home, working in her yard with a young assistant, and pleased to see me. She had had a very sucessful show at the Grand Canyon during the summer, and had gotten down in the canyon to paint numerous times. She glowed. We agrred to meet up later for dinner, and I went off to drive around and try my luck at bookstores. Moab now has three, all owned by the same concern. I found a good book in the used division, and was attracted to a couple of new ones at "Back of Beyond", which had been my center of operations when I lived there. But my friend the amazing coyote Jose Knighton had moved away, rumor said Portland OR. I went to the library to check email and send Laura a note, and then Serena and I had a great pizza and a long talk before we went back to her house for the private art show and works-in-progress. I slept in the truck in her driveway, a place I'd used a score of times.

Wednesday: It was good to have the guest-house for morning hygiene, crisp fresh start. I wanted to check out a couple of sites on the Eastern Utah birding map. Matheson Preserve, a TNC site, had been one of my earliest birding places, where I'd stop almost every morning before goinfg to work. First Ibises and Soras and half a dozen other species made it dear to me. But they had a bad fire in the invasive Tamarisks, and the fire control efforts had wrecked a lot of other habitat. Lots of dozing and brush-hogging through the vegetation, presumably for fire lines, had really torn up some of the area . Not to mention the burn. It was officially closed, but I poked my nose in, enough to be grossed out. Just a little further down the road was Moonflower Canyon, a sweet short bluff ended creek bottom with big cottonwoods. It was cold and not very birdy, but looked to be an excellent prospect for a contemplated spring stop next year.

After another bookstore stop to show the staff the Utah birding maps as a suggestion, and another short but good visit with Serena, I headed north to Salt Lake and Bear River. The stop at the Green River sewage ponds was good, almost any open water in Utah would get new tics, but some of the other stops I'd targeted didn't pan out. Either the season was wrong, or the roads were snow bound, or they ended up being too far off my best route. Once I got into the metro area it was just plain 'ol thruway driving. The directions on the northern Utah map were not ground-truthed, and made no sense. By the time I figured out what I should have done from driving in circles way out of my way, and studying the GPS, it was getting late enough to look for a place to sleep. More problems: the state parks were closed, it being normally winter by this time of year, even though the season was running late.

I finally spied a place in the atlas just east of Bear River, and was able to find it. It was closed too, but the road through it was open, and I finally just parked in a pull-off, already dark, read my books a little and crashed.

Bear River Refuge, Idaho and Wyoming briefly

November 20-22, 2008

Thursday: Sometime deep in the night I woke up with the inside of the campershell all lit up. I stuck my head up and there were headlights a few feet away, and a voice asking if I was alright. It was a young cop, and he actually seemed to care if I was alright. I said no problem, told him the campground had been closed. He'd apparently already checked the license for stolen, but did sheepishly ask to see my driver's license. I told him the plan to get into the refuge early, and got a recommendation for a breakfast place. No problem. Asked if I have a phone, wished me well, and went away.

I was up way before dawn and found the diner he'd mentioned. Standard Utah, with standard Utah early risers, ranchers and construction, very white but a couple of ethnics showed up before I left, fueled up on eggs and pig meat. I was driving in at first light just starting to be able to make out ducks on the wetlands along the entry road. It was a great morning. A few swans flew over, but there were thousands about a mile off the road. The expected good variety of ducks, a few Pied -bill Grebes, but no diver species. There were also surprisingly late small batches of Long-billed Curlews, Long-billed Dowitchers, and American Pipits too. I was in there until nearly noon, me and the hunters. On the way out I stopped at the Visitor's Center, deserted but for one woman minding the store. Found a Marsh Wren in the reeds outside along the walkway bridge.

Escape from urbanity was almost within reach, I was on the far northern edge of the City. It was about twenty miles to Golden Spike National Monument, and that was one of the few Park Service palces I'd not been. I'd recently read a book about the building od the western railway and had a mental picture of the immense undertaking that had finished there. It was a wide and drear land of rolling topography. There were a few traces of the parallel roadbeds, and some obviously major cut and fill operations, but the modern railway was relocated a few miles to the north. There's a big Thikol plant near there, with rocket testing facilities hidden over some taller hills.

I had spotted some likely looking sites along a route into Idaho, but they were duckless, totally, hunter swept clean. Between wrong roads and dead ends I managed to waste a couple of hours before getting to the state line. Once in I could start adding tics since Idaho was one of the places where I'd not kept records from earlier trips. I added 19 tics of roadside birds in about three hours. Finally got to Bear Lake (not river, different) NWR by a really roundabout northern approach that put me on the wrong side of a washed out bridge, so another twenty miles of dirt roads had to go by before I could get to the refuge proper. The best part was a lady in a fried chicken place who looked me over (I get to looking pretty well used) and said the pieces were running small so she'd give me three breasts for the two I ordered. They were the biggest I'd ever seen. Blessings on her. It was getting late, gray and windy, and just before I parked I spotted a small flock in the failing light that showed clearly white patches on the upper wing. I puzzled them out in the field guide as Snow Buntings, the first I'd seen in years. I slept by an outhouse on the tour loop after not seeing a soul or a vehicle for a couple of hours.

Friday: I got out early and was into Wyoming around sunrise. This was another just nip the state's corner opportunity with Seedskadee NWR along the way. The bad news was that somewher in the night or morning I'd gotten just far enough north or just enough higher that the refuge was mostly frozen, and the world pretty much stayed that way until I was back in Kansas on the way home. Saw a few small flocks of ducks on the river but they flushed at a distance, hunter shy I guess, and I was only able to actually ID 3 new tics in WY. Ended up going through Green River and into Flaming Gorge. I tried afew likely overlooks and boat launches there but no luck, very few waterfowl. Just before crossing back into Utah I had stopped at a wetland overlook, and spotted some sewage ponds along a county road. Turned out to be the border road, and the ponds were in Utah, and bermed up and fenced so that I could just barely see in by standing on the tailgate, tippy-toe, with the scope legs folded to make a monopod. There were good birds, including some divers that had been missing at Bear River. Ring-necks and Ruddys.

I had stopped at the Visitor Center in Green River and the woman there had explained where I could camp free on the south side of the highway in Utah. I drove along that stretch, noting little roads back into the forest and finally came to the Red Canyon area. That VC was closed, the view was stupendous, but the ranger that came by made me nervous since I hadn't purchases a daily use permit. As I was driving back to the highwayhe was parked in the middle of the road taking pictures out his window of a dozen Big Horn Sheep. There were three rams, and two of them were pushing and chasing. I parked and eventually the pair ran all around my truck as I watched, passing within ten feet. When I finally drove on past I talked to the ranger who said they were almost in rut, and the serious head-banging was a few weeks off.

Just on a whim I drove down to the restaurant that I presumed was closed, but the sign said they would be open at five, it being Friday. And ther was a catch-and-release pond out front with waterfowl. In fact with Common Loons, Goldeneyes, and Mergansers. I also found Clark's Nutcrackers. When five arrived I got coffee, and told the waitresses I was birding, they offered me the Flaming Gorge list, and then mentioned it had been compiled by the owner who happened to live in back. Great luck, huh? His name was Mark Wilson and he invited me in when I knocked and introduced myself. And I got two more tics on his birdfeeders outside the window, Steller's Jay and Hairy Woodpecker. Strangely he didn't know about the sewage ponds I'd found, and I was pleased to turn him on to something new in his own patch. Duty finally called him to the job, and I went back and parked back in the forest. Tried some owl calls but nothing called back.

Utah briefly and East across Colorado

November 22-24, 2008

Saturday: The next morning the truck started OK, it had been a little balky, but the computer wouldn't boot at twenty degrees and 7500 ft. Once I was going and warmed up, it was down the long slope into Vernal for breakfast and gas. Another Utah rancher place. The computer lit up when the cab had warmed up.

The first goal was to take the highway west from Vernal and then a minor road south to Pelican Lake and also Ouray NWR. Pelican had been a great find when I lived out that way. There's some free primitive camping. I saw my first Common Loon there, and my first Bobolink. I guess my first Phalaropes twirling up a meal too. And there had been a Peregrine Falcon on a fence post eating a duck. This time it was very good also, lots of birds and good variety, the water was mostly open, just a small fringe of ice where it was shaded by the bank-side vegetation.

Ouray was disappointing, the smaller water features there were mostly frozen, but there was a small flock of Sandhill Cranes, my first for Utah. I drove the tour loop, but it was pretty birdless. Back to Pelican and get back in the reeds with a scope for an hour. That was satisfying. But I had some hopes for northern Colorado so it was back through Vernal and east. It was a long cold and generally birdless drive, and was already dark by the time I got to Granby. The most interesting thing was a sky phenomenon just before sunset, called anti-crepuscular rays. It's the complementary phenomena to the rays one sometime sees coming through clouds that look like the glories in religious paintings. It's a trick of perspective that they seem to diverge, since they're actually parallel. If they come from a sun nearly set (or just risen) they reconverge on the opposite side of the sky. I had never been conscious of them before, but they had shown up in a picture on an astronomy site I check daily, and when I saw them I knew what it was.

I had sort of targeted the pass south of Georgetown to camp, and then look for Rosy-finches in town in the morning, but when I got there in the dark and realized from studying the GPS how much of a climb it would be, and how cold in the morning, it seemed wiser to head down to the plains beyond Denver. There was also the lack of snow up high, which is what drives the Rosies down. They hadn't been mentioned on the listserv. I'd already come over the Berthoud Pass, 11,000' plus but snowless, so it was a long downhill coast. It had gotten late enough that the city traffic wasn't bad, and the GPS got me through the freeway labyrinth without a hitch, and headed north toward Ft Collins. There were some sites there too, mostly big lakes with a tendency to get vagrant winter gulls, that had aroused my lifer hopes while following the bird listserv for Colorado. But first I needed to sleep. Found a truck-stop with a restaurant for breakfast, and got tucked in between two semis. When I woke the next morning two more had tucked in even closer, and lulled me to sleep with their rattling and rumbling in the night (not).

Sunday: Up around first light and fed and coffeed up, and only twenty miles or so to Fossil Creek Reservoir. The water was open, but it was a chilly windy day. There were lots of Canada Geese on the opposite shore, but I couldn't make out any others. The lake itself had some waterfowl, including Common Goldeneye, Bufflehead, and Western Grebe. Farther north at the Visitor Center for Ft Collins, I found out there were a whole bunch of public access areas called the Prospect Ponds along the Cache le Poudre River. They had a lot of useful literature and maps, in fact it was one of the best welcome centers I'd seen. They filled my coffee cup too.

Headed down to the first parking lot, and had the great good fortune to meet a couple of young birders, Rollie and Mike, who were familiar with the site. I asked if I could follow them around, and they assented. Turned out they were sorta new to birding, but were really interested. They didn't know about the listservs, and I hope they found them, since I never got an email that would let me send a bunch of useful links. I got several Colorado tics with them, Yellow-headed Blackbird, Belted Kingfisher, and Cinnamon Teal. Later we found Snow Geese and Cacling Geese too, in a place I'd have never found on my own since it required climbing down a twisted rebar ladder, crossing a small dam, and then climbing back up. One of the geese had really strange markings, we hoped for something rare, but it was a bizarre Snow. I ended up spending a couple of hours with them in a cold wind, but it was obviously well worth it.

I made some shopping stops too, at REI where I got a new headlamp, brighter than the one I'd been using for reading. Next door was Barnes and Noble, and I couldn't resist some Moleskin notebooks. Also got the cheapest gas of the trip so far. Then it went back up until I got to Missouri a couple of days later.

It's not too far from Ft Collins to Pawnee National Grasslands where I'd stayed a couple of times before. This was the most wintry visit, I didn't have much hope for good birds, but dutifully walked the trails in the little stream-side woodland at the campground. Lots of White-crowned Sparrows, not much else. But an Eastern Screech-Owl in the night gave me 201 species for Colorado.

Monday: It was 16 degrees in the morning, and the truck was balky starting. That was starting to be a background concern all the time. This was just a driving-all-day day, my homing instincts had kicked in, and it was straight to Great Bend, Kansas and stay at Cheyenne Bottoms. The motel that had always had good wifi was dismally slow and sketchy, but I did manage to get an email on the Kansas listserv regarding Trumpeter and Tundra Swans maybe (they had been way off) at Quivera and another about a Black Scoter at a Wichita site. There was nobody at the campground at CB, no hunters, so It was a good sleep.

Home through Kansas, 2 stops

November 25, Tuesday

Given the reports of good birds, new species for Kansas which were geting harder to find, I didn't even bother to drive around Cheyenne Bottoms, but just headed for Quivera as soon as I'd had some breakfast. I got in there just as the sun was rising, and the air was filled with geese on the water and in the air as far as I could see, remoter and higher skeins stacked behind one another each time I looked for smaller specks. About two thirds around the tour loop I found the swans, first one pair, then another, the second being an adult and a cygnet. Approaching gradually, driving fifty feet and stopping, then again and again, until I was even and at the closest possible approach, it was easy to see the yellow bill mark on one of the adult pair, making it Tundra. The second pair was a little further, but the pairs converged as time wore on. That gave me a chance to compare head shapes. Trumpeters make a sort of straight line bill to crown, and Tundras are more rounded, at least in the Geographic Guide. Sorta like the difference between Lesser and Greater Scaup. I looked for thirty minutes against different backgrounds as they drifted, and finaly decided they all looked the same, so all Tundras.

Glad I didn't post it, even though I did call Pete Janzen who had the original sighting. A couple of days later another birder got a much better look, with them near the road rather than across the pool, and his conclusion was two of each, the original Janzen call. I wish getting out of there was as easy as getting in. One problem with the GPS mapping is that it sometimes shows roads that have locked gates. I was trying the most direct route out and ran into that situation. The complication was the leg shot deer in the road. It was staggering around, could put some weight on the bad leg, but it was seriously hurt. I went real slow, trying to think harmless and compassionate thoughts, and it got off to the side and let me go by. Then I got to the dead end gate and had to turn around. This time it panicked, running and slipping and falling in the mud, bouncing off barb-wire fencing, and breaking my heart. I hated being there and hated whoever hadn't followed their wounded deer, and hated the whole business. It finally manged to get across the fence, and I got back to the highway to Wichita.

It was fairly easy to find the Scoter site, but it was big water only viewable through a fence at one end. Old sand pits, and the area still very industrial. There must have been at least 500 ducks and coots and what-not out there, and I must have looked at each one at least four times, but none turned into a scoter. I found one other viewpoint but it had intimidating signage and big trucks being loaded by big machines, so I just turned around after a brief look. I was ready to get home, and a few hours later I did.

I considered the trip fairly sucessful, I had added plenty of waterfowl to several state lists, and some other unexpected species, not to mention good visits with friends and some renewed affection with Laura. When I totalled up the total tics at trips end I had 6999. Gadzooks, what a frustration. A few days later at home I had an inspiration to look through some old checklists to see if I'd written anything down in the pre lister software days. For closure, years ago I'd visited Malheur in Oregon, the place of the manager I'd met the first day out, and I'd checked off quite a few species, 56 that I'd never enterd in AviSys. So the count at year's end was 7055 total tics.

North into a cold wet Spring

In my typical way, with time on my hands as the winter passed, I had studied maps and checklists and cash reserves figuring what kind of trip would net the most new state ticks, the most lifer possibilities, and the most new landscapes. Subject to time and money constraints. It used to be just time, but gas prices were changing everything in terms of any kind of distance birding. Which was true for a lot of folks, attested by numerous mentions on the listservs, and a growing interest in "green birding", fuel free and muscle intensive.

I was drawn to another Gulf Coast trip, with the possibility of making the 50% in Louisiana, Mississippi (I was really close), and critically building on Tennessee and Alabama. But I missed the prime time window for those when the migrants were coming ashore on the April/May cusp. So the alternative northern loop through several prairie states started looking best. It had a lot more lifer hopes too, all chickens, my nemesis the Gray Partridge, both Sage Grouses (Grice?), and Spruce Grouse if I went into Minnesota Boreal habitat. I was also drawn to a trip to Isle Royale National Park, almost the only lower 48 one that I hadn't seen, the least visited NP, but one of the top ten for back country permits. Not a real birding goal, tho I could get some good MN ticks with a little luck, obscure woodpeckers, big water ducks and loons, that sort of thing. It also held the opportunity for breaking 100+ species in four more states, and adding to a bunch of others. Like a fool, I listed them out, with their goals, and figured around 300+ ticks possible would give the list a big boost. Plans jelled.

Getaway, start Nebraska and Iowa

Thursday, June 5 and Friday, June 6, 2008

I took my time getting away in the morning, first checking email and delivering some work, then back home to clean out the truck, vacuum everything and wipe it down, then load for travel. I always wonder what I'm gonna forget, any fool would make a checklist, but maybe the next time. I'll make a post of the stuff I take and other logistical considerations on these trips. I did manage to make a note of the mailing addresses and due dates and amounts for several credit cards. Then I mowed the last section of the lawn that was slightly tall, knowing that I'd face a jungle when I returned. We'd had an extremely wet spring, with flooding and over-filled lakes on the news, so plants were thriving. We'd already cut the hay, a month earlier than usual, I usually delay beyond the local custom to let ground nesters get their babies up, but his year I would have lost a lot of grass falling over from its own exuberant weight. Back through town headed north with a stop for the last decent meal I'd see until I got back, at the Oasis, favorite-of-locals semi-vegetarian mostly home-made tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant. When I'm in strange places with some counter-culture flotsam I always hope to find places like it, usually without luck.

First long drive of the trip is north-west across a corner of Missouri, opportunity for the cheapest gas in the nation, and up the Eastern edge of Kansas. I always stop at Schermerhorn Park south of Galena, still looking for Black Vultures and Bewick's Wrens for the KS list. After that it was just a grinding drive, I could have made several stops, but I wanted the feel of being gone from the familiar. Crossed back into MO at Kansas City, and Interstate to the Squaw Creek NWR exit south of Mound City, for another MO gas dose and dinner. The station there was associated with an Indian Reservation, cheap gas and a big cheap plate of food recommended by a trucker on the next stool, good too. Now all this time the weather had been fairly dramatic. I'd had a welcome tail wind going north. I drove along keeping pace with the cloud shadows, which were going fifty plus mph. Not very good birding anyhow. At the station the sky had darkened and it looked like rain, actually it looked worse than that. The waitress I'd fallen in love with (I always do) said there were tornado warnings for the area, and a few minutes later that there were tornadoes on the ground just west of there across the Missouri River in Kansas and Nebraska where I thought I was heading.

Then a few minutes later she announced that there were tornadoes around us, it looked scary outside, low gray fast moving clouds with shreds of green and yellow weather scraps moving like flying trucks. She invited everyone to head for the basement just as the power failed. Folks had a few flashlights, and we crowded into a decent size room with not enough seats. I was on the floor. The guy next to me had his dog. Truckers and staff and kids from the Res, travelers, a cop, made a good mix. We stayed for most of an hour until the spotters said that the worst danger was past. By then it was storming horizontally, with lots of fireworks. It was dark, I was tired, a splashed to the truck knowing that the rain would make the campershell into a drum head. Got the bright idea to park under the station canopy, let the rain fall on that, the lights and pumps were off. But in about an hour I got woke up when the lights came on. So I got up and moved the truck back to a dark spot in the truck parking area, still raining. Well, that was an interesting start.

Friday - I was up before the kitchen opened, so grabbed a muffin and headed to the refuge only a few miles away for premium early morning birding. I drove the tour loop hoping to see a Ring-necked Pheasant, and one finally crossed the road ahead of me. I'd missed them before. Also got a Spotted Towhee for MO. I'd entered Warbling Vireo range, but didn't recognize the song at first. Figured it out later, and it followed me for the first part of the trip, some places they were quite numerous, not having dispersed on territories yet. I added three ticks for MO, better than I'd hoped for. Crossed the river into Nebraska, and worked my way up to Indian Cave SP with one stop when I saw a sign for an arboretum in Fallsville. Indian Cave is great place and I'd been looking forward to catching shorebirds at a couple of places there, one a wetland and then along the river. Both were closed due to flooding. I did OK there, but was disappointed. The flood induced lack of mudflats was a theme of the journey after that.

I was working my way north along the Missouri River, I'd tagged several likely looking places in the mapping software on the laptop, GPS enabled, on the passenger seat. At Nebraska City I crossed into Iowa to check out Waubonsee SP. It wasn't a good birding place, so it wasn't a long stop. Back into Nebraska and up to the Lincoln area. I had been following the NE listserv, and had marked some sites around there. It was very good birding, especially when I found the Spring Creek Audubon Preserve a few miles southwest of town. The afternoon was already hot and muggy, but there was a new Visitor's Center, hereafter VC, with AC. Yesss. Good birding too, nice prairie remnant, and a very kind woman at the VC sent me up the hill for Henslow's Sparrows, which hid forever almost but eventually came out and rasped their little songs and calls. Good bird for the trip and year as well. Back into town for the Pioneer's Park Nature Center, but I was late and some trails were already closed. They'd had some vandalism problems. Looks like an excellent place to hit early in the day during spring migration. I needed to find some camping, the previous night hadn't been good rest, but had some awful luck for a while. I tried a WMA that was over-run with kids, Friday night, the good campsites were closed due to flooding, and the others were both expensive and ill-equipped. The next likely place was a SP where I'd been stormed on a previous trip, and I knew wasn't much for habitat. Kinda hot and frustrated. Ended up back across the river at Lewis and Clark SP, almost flooded, but with good showers. Tried evening birding and got driven back by rain. Logged sightings into the computer.

Siouxland area into South Dakota

Saturday and Sunday, June 7&8, 2008

Birded around the state park in the morning, the rain had stopped. On the whole trip, even though I was rained on over and over, almost all of it was at night. I lost no actual birding time to the weather. A different kind of continuity to the trip was the Lewis and Clark story. Since I was following the Missouri River pretty tightly from Kansas City to the far end of Fort Peck Lake, I was following the trail of the Corps of Discovery. What brought that up was the full size replica of the L&C boat at the state park. I had seen models, but for some reason had never realized how big the main craft was. Reading the journals had made me wonder where they had put all that gear and supplies and trade goods and twenty some men. The full size operating craft would look big at most inland lake marinas, and was accompanied by batteaus as well. Worth seeing if you pass that way.

A couple of years ago I had ordered from ABA Sales a brochure called the Siouxland Birding Guide (or something like that). I broke it out now, and started checking out the sites it highlighted. There are quite a few, enough for several days of more focused birding, but I only spent a day at it. One of the best things about doing total ticking is that each state has to be explored more than superficially. The Siouxland brochure thrust me into places I'd have never expected. Iowa has a lot of flat boring ag fields, but it has a lot of other terrain as well. Anyway, I drove around northwest Iowa checking out maybe ten sites and anything that looked interesting on the map. Very little mudflat as noted, most rivers and ponds were over-full. There was some woodlands, grassy hills, ox-bow lakes, ag fields and what-not. By the end of the day I'd added 14 tics for IA, making 32% of their list. I ended up in Sioux City at Stone State Park on the northwest corner, there's a really nice nature center with well developed trails and some birders there got me on a Scarlet Tanager, always a great bird to find. It alone would be worth at least a half day during migration.

I had to take a break for lunch and Wally World, needed gas vitamins for the truck and allergy meds for me. Say what you will, they have almost everything you need, and the stores are laid out to a pattern so shopping is quick unless you have to walk from end to end for something. From there it was a small bridge over a small creek to put me in the very southeast tip of South Dakota. The attraction is the Adam's Homestead Preserve, and well worth it, got lots of woodpeckers and flycatchers, and some other fillers. Walked about three miles on good trails, but it was a hot and humid afternoon and I was whooped. From there I needed a place to camp, and Ponca SP back in NE along the river looked good. What a great place. Wonderful woodland habitat, and I had somehow gotten above the worst of the flooding so that the river shore was accessible. That meant Least Terns and Franklin's Gulls and Bank Swallows, and a Scarlet Tanager there as well. There are Piping Plovers as well, but I couldn't see them from where I was. I had gone to the Missouri National Scenic River VC, which is in the park, and there was a ranger guy who really was into the birds. He showed me where to look for various things, and also recommended a WMA that the park manages few miles west. I put that on the next day's morning plan. After some exploring and checking out an isolated campsite, I went back to the VC to pay up and find the ranger again. He was gone, turns out he was the park super, young and very casual and into birds. Hope I meet him again when I can go birding some morning. Back to the campsite on the edge of a meadow surrounded by woods and one corner overlooking the river and South Dakota. Just about dark the rain started and lasted all night.

Sunday - I was up early for a soaking world, headed into the little town on the highway looking for food. No luck on a Sunday morning. Went on to the WMA, a large flat bottom-land with some ag fields. And really muddy roads. Went down one until I was sliding some, remembered being stuck in similar circumstances (at least this was flat) and backed up a quarter mile slowly in four wheel until I could bail out. Further west there was a bridge into SD, into Vermilion for breakfast, then back to the north side of the river in a public recreation area and boat launch. I had the scope set up and was scanning for Plovers and Terns. A couple of locals pulled up, and we got to talking. Told them what I was doing, they puzzled over my maps, then recommended going about a mile up-river where they said a guy lived who had a good river view and was into birds. Went there, introduced myself, described my informers, was welcomed to check out the bars and channels. After a few minutes he came up and told stories of exploring the islands and bars in the river, and recalled various kinds of bureaucratic incompetence by state folks studying the wildlife. I did get my birds, and after some map study figured that I had the tics for both NE and SD. I ended up adding 12 species in Nebraska, less than my goal, but OK considering the flooding. Enough so I'm motivated to push that list for the ABA threshold. Now at 37%.

Now begins the continuation of the Tale of Nemesis. One target lifer was Gray Partridge. I have looked for this bird on a half dozen trips through its range. I had made a note from one web posting about the entrance road to a State Park just over the border east in Minnesota. I went there. I drove the target road back and forth twice. I stopped in the VC and quizzed a ranger. He laughed off my prospect of finding GRPA this time of year, seems they hide in the tall grass of the road verges, and only the greatest good luck, which I manifestly lacked for this bird, would get it to reveal itself. I birded their campground briefly since it was an open house day, but then headed on north toward Big Stone NWR. Couple of hours drive and a worthwhile stop. I'd been there before but had somehow not gotten deep into the refuge. This time I did with good results after spending several hours, ducks and waders and scattered shorebirds. Back into town for a little city park with camping, where I thought I'd stay for another morning pass at the Refuge. I caught up my records for the day, and realized that given my latitude and the long days around the solstice, that there were still hours of daylight. Started driving back into SD. Unremarkable except for the first road-killed Beaver I'd ever seen. Actually, I got some good birds in roadside ponds and pools, but the best was when I was at the turnoff for Waubay NWR. It was after sundown but still good light. I had gone ahead just a half mile or so to some possible camping by a decent size lake, and when I was returning to the turnoff the lake on my left had a smattering of ducks. Good ducks, and variety too, Redheads and Canvasbacks, Ring-necks and Ruddys. Between that lake and the one adjacent I managed to make my SD goal, 100 species, and I hadn't hit the refuges yet. It was deep twilight when I got to Waubay, the gates weren't closed, and no signs saying I couldn't so I parked the truck in the first decent pull-off and slept well, dark and no rain.

SD refuges to far Northeast Minnesota

Mon-Wed, June 9-11, 2008

Waubay was a pretty good place to wake up, early enough that the world was songs and calls across the water, not enough light except for vaguely perceived motion. But in twenty minutes I could start making out gulls, and then more. I walked around the parking spot and up to a little viewpoint, but there wasn't much to see, a fair wind was blowing. Drove on across the causeway to the island where most of the refuge infrastructure is located, VC and sheds, fire tower, and lots of trails, not long, it's a small island, but with some habitat variety. Started on those with good luck on the lea side, not so much in the wind. Did see two fox dens with kits. There wasn't much on the water, and no mud except on the trail. Went slow enough that the staff finally arrived just before seven, they were friendly, I remember that from a previous visit and they invited me to coffee and donuts. One interesting thing was the biologist showing me pictures of the refuge from 20 plus years earlier when the island wasn't an island. She said the speculation was that a series of wet years, by raising the water level, had broken the fire continuity in the area and allowed a lot of woodland to survive and thrive, creating a woodland habitat island all around the lakes of the refuge which made it the western-most woods in the area. And a real trap for normally absent species.

By then I was seriously hungry and headed back to the main highway, hoping for more ducks where they had been in the evening, but the wind had cleared the lakes. I'd been lucky the night before. A little further west in Webster I found a wonderful small town eating place, lots of locals, lots of food without a crater in the wallet, and Wifi for an email scoop. That sent me off coffee jazzed and smiling for the hour drive to Sand Lake NWR. It's a big refuge north of the village of Columbia, a village with a sign on its two lane blacktop advising that I should take any of the next twelve or so exits. I took one at the PO and got some envelopes for Credit Card payments. I drove the refuge tour loop, lucked into quite a few more new state tics, and by the time I was driving into North Dakota I had exceeded expectations, making 30% well beyond my 100 species target. 55 new tics.

North Dakota was a much different problem. I'd been there before but hadn't recorded anything but new trip birds after already crossing a lot of similar habitat. So I had nine species on the list and a target of 100 at least. That was the steepest goal of the trip. It's pretty easy at the beginning, Mallards and House Sparrows, Barn Swallows and Pigeons. I routed my way through Tewaukon NWR but found it disappointing, not many ducks and small lakes surrounded by grass. Some sparrows of course, but it's probably better when migration is staging. Muddled my way on toward Fargo via Cheyenne National Grassland, but it too was virtually birdless. In Fargo I found a PO, actually in Minnesota, mailed off one bill catching the clerk just as she emptied the outside drop-box. Then into MN, heading for one of the pivots of the trip, Isle Royale National Park. Skirted Detroit Lakes with its miserable traffic, and cut north and east through Tamarac NWR. I'd had a great visit there on a previous trip, but the VC with its good bookstore was closed, it was drizzling, I'd been up and drive/birding for fourteen hours, and I just wasn't motivated to do anything but get further east and sleep. Ended up paying for a place in Chippewa National Forest by a little lake. Just stayed in the truck in the rain, logged in sightings and crashed.

Tuesday - My notes say "mosquito driven morning". Thankfully I bet, there's no recall of what that means exactly. It did rain a lot, so sleep wasn't good, and I was troubled by curious engine noises which meant checking under-hood stuff in the gray buzzing drizzle. Then off to Duluth, where I'd recalled someone who wished I could see again, but had no way of finding other than her family name. I found a bakery/bistro/Internet cafe that I'd hung in before on the owl invasion trip, harvested email, sipped coffee, studied a phone book, but finally couldn't get myself to make some cold calls. That didn't add much to dismal exhaustion. Got on the north shore highway and headed for Isle Royale. The weather forecast was a week of rain with highs in the fifties and lows in the thirties, a little chilly for a week from the solstice even by MN standards. The highway had a lot of water damage, lanes closed, edges undermined, one bridge just barely functional. They'd had gully washer rains two days earlier, the creeks were still high, and my spirits were battered. It's quite a ways from Duluth, scenic as hell, three hours driving with the road damage.

One of the main motivations and hopes around there was a possibility of finding Spruce Grouse. I was in serious Boreal habitat and the Kim Eckert MN birdfinder book had said they were present, but scarce. Can't win if you don't play. The IRNP checklist didn't have them, so the best hope was on the mainland around Grand Portage and its National Monument. I spent some time at the VC there, quizzed the desk woman, a youngish Ojibway, about the boats to the Isle, the weather forecast (daunting), and the grouse. Turns out she went hunting with her grandfather in those woods and knew them in detail, grouse hunting. So we ran our fingers over the local maps, she wrote names and reminders on some paper, and I resigned the boat trip for some woods exploring. While I was at the monument I checked out the displays and reconstructions and re-enactments. It's really informative, the interpreters were top notch, able to follow any line of questions and full of telling details. I won't say much about those, except it's really worth spending half a day getting to know. I had lunch at a local's favorite place near the border, then headed back to wander around in the woods.

One road was the old federal highway. Don't go there; it's one of those things with pavement damaged by years of winter and neglect, endless potholes, bumps, grinds, occasional fifty yard stretches of decent surface, then screech and crawl. Twas a relief to get back to the real highway. South a little way to Arrowhead Trail, which turned to good dirt pretty soon. I found the most recommended of her roads, which wasn't in the GPS mapping, but was a good road anyhow. Followed it most of twenty miles north, almost to Canada, and found a gated side road that looked like I could park, bird and camp. Not much traffic out there, less than half a dozen vehicles in the next twelve hours. The birding was magnificent, numerous Boreal warblers, woodpeckers, flycatchers, grouse, Ruffed, booming, Snipe winnowing, and scattered spells of drizzle. I was in heaven, especially with two Connecticut Warblers. It helped the mood a lot, but still a nagging sense of time running out. It had kept me driven for days, choosing to keep moving when I could have kicked back and spent more time working over good spots.

Wednesday - I spent three hours back down my prime road and then headed back to the highway. Mostly I was hanging around on the chance a Spruce Grouse would materialize, not much chance of that. What the focus was in the meantime was scaring up a Mourning Warbler, which shouldn't have been too hard. I walked into maybe four overgrown old clearcuts, soaking dewy boggy brush-fields, patiently playing the calls on the tape, and with no luck. Something else to make me go back. Then an hour plus driving south to the turnoff for Ely, gas in Finland, cheapest in MN that day, and on to Ely with lots of stops for MOWA, still no luck. At Ely I had a good yuppie sandwich served by summer co-eds at Piragis outfitters, where I scoured the store for useful and non-yuppie items for my canoe. From there on I was goal oriented and drove pretty much straight to Agassiz NWR.