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.