January 3rd - Steigerwald and Woodland Bottoms

Steigerwald National Wildlife Refuge

Waking up on my gracious host's couch, I had vague thoughts of trying for owls in the morning. Fort Vancouver had a few recent reports of Barred Owls, and they are often pretty responsive. But sleep won the morning. I got a coffee fill in my brand-new Cowlitz County coffee mug and zipped out the door to meet Les and Cindy.

Steigerwald is a neat place that I'd visited before, sitting near Camas and Washougal along Highway 4. It also sat on the East end of Clark County, important because I hadn't started the day with a 100 percent plan on how to do the day. Wilson Cady, next door in Skamania County, had been letting me know of weather conditions to the east, and it wasn't looking super. I'd originally hoped to do a Skamania County big day, but the ice on the roads wasn't expected to melt until at least mid-morning. 

Even at Steigerwald, there was a wicked cold east wind coming down from the gorge - something that made birding a challenge. As I arrived, Cindy was already there, putting on layers. I thought about this as a King County birder. We really don't have to pay quite as much attention to the weather reports, but it felt like *all* of the Clark/Skamania birders I'd come across were keenly aware of it. I think the thing is. . . it's just so often bad weather. So, there are some windows where the weather is downright pleasant for birding, and other days where it just makes sense to stay socked in at home.

Les arrived and repeated the same process of putting on layers of insulation and wind-breaking fabrics. I kind of figured I was in for a cold morning! Steigerwald had gotten a bit of a remodel in recent years - all efforts to better support the wildlife, while still trying to provide good views for people walking the trails. Most of our walking was on an elevated berm, where we got slammed by the aforementioned east wind all morning!

Most of the day *looked like this*. Looking down
at flooded fields/shallow ponds, depending on how
those are even differentiated.

Our target birds were some uncommon birds - Horned Larks - and a downright rare bird - a Lapland Longspur. They'd been seen off and on over the last week or so (longer for the larks), and to be honest, I figured even if we missed them that a nice long walk with these two skilled, knowledgeable birders would be pretty productive!

Before even heading up to the top of the berm, we made a bathroom stop. This was not a bad idea on a morning when we would be putting in 4-5 miles of walking over the course of 5 hours or so. A few easy birds were seen and heard as light started hitting the parking area: Canada Goose (2), Cackling Goose (3), Northern Harrier (4), American Kestrel (5), American Crow (6), American Robin (7), and Common Raven (8).

From here, a short climb brought us on top of the berm, and oh my lord it was windy, and cold to boot. I'm sure the Horned Larks and the Lapland Longspur had been enjoying exactly this kind of weather, making them feel right at home. In most winters, these birds are more common on the Waterville Plateau in Douglas County, which can also get icy cold!

We turned scopes back towards the sewage ponds on the western edge of the refuge. It was full of dozens and dozens of ducks, including Northern Shoveler (9), Gadwall (10), American Wigeon (11), Mallard (12), Ring-necked Duck (13), Lesser Scaup (14), and Bufflehead (15), as well as the ever-honorary ducks - American Coots (16). A Great Blue Heron (17) took flight as we picked through the ducks, one of many seen during the morning.

So, there we are in the middle of these wind gusts, and Cindy calls out "Western Meadowlark! Did you hear it?" I paused, listened to more wind. "There it is again!" I listened to more wind. I didn't even hear anything that sounded like a bird. But they showed. I can't remember if it was a half-minute later, or five, but I'm just saying. I'm no expert on the occult but am nonetheless 95% certain that witchcraft was being practiced here.

And she speedwalks

Folks, this was NOT the last time this happened. I just skimmed our list, and there's like. . . 8 birds in there that Cindy heard an hour before I did. Not an hour. But LIKE an hour. My ears really aren't bad! In a typical group of birders, there are usually 1-2 other people who are picking things up at about the same time as me, and others eventually hear the birds. I've literally (and I hate the overuse of that word. I am using it for its intended use) never had the situation reversed like this. 

And not only that. Cindy would also call them out correctly. I hear things *very* well, but there are times where my brain goes right to the wrong bird on the first listen, "Flamingo!" might become "Black-capped Chickadee" once I have a better listen. I exaggerate, but. . . goodness. There's a lot of amazing birders out there with their own different sets of skills, but Cindy may be the best ears I've been with. There's one guy I'd need to drag into a windstorm for a proper test. That's the only reason I say "may". 

With that context in mind, now I can say "We found a half-dozen Western Meadowlarks. (18)" and you now have a better understanding of what I mean by "We".

The mud to the left of us had some shorebirds as well. Killdeer (19), and Least Sandpiper (20) called from the soggy gray expanse. A small flock of American Pipits (21) also landed on the shore below us. "Junk" birds continued to appear as well: European Starling, Red-winged Blackbirds (22), Song Sparrow (23), and California Scrub-Jays (24). We continued to watch Northern Harriers actively hunting, with a couple instances where they were hunkered down on the ground. By day's end, we had seen four of them, including both male and female birds.

As I typed "male and female", I will admit that I paused. Every once in a while, I see birds referred to as "male type" or "female type". I've tried to casually poke around on the Internet to find a nice explanation of this usage. I've come up blank. Help! What are people on about when they add "type"? 

(placeholder for the great explanation that is going to get emailed to me)

We scanned a flooded area around some trees, hoping for Wood Duck, finding Hooded Mergansers (25) instead, with a Downy Woodpecker (26) calling from the trees. A Red-tailed Hawk (27) flew overhead, and a Marsh Wren (28) popped up close enough for nice views on the right side of the dike.

Any time spent lingering in a good spot will usually result in more species observed. We were lingering big-time, as we really hoped that the Horned Larks and their special friend would show up on this first stretch of the dike. What we got instead: American Goldfinch (29), Dark-eyed Junco (30), Golden-crowned Sparrow (31), Spotted Towhee (32), and Northern Flicker (33). 

Les and Cindy have birded together quite a bit, and had some routines down pat, including eBirding as they went. So, each time we encountered a new flock of sparrows, things were getting added immediately and accurately. I say this because our list includes 72 Golden-crowed Sparrows! I try when I'm out on my own, but it was honestly a beautiful thing to see how they worked together to make this happen. With any new bird sighting, getting the data was nearly always the immediate priority. 

I will gladly beat the drum for good citizen science data. Mine is getting better. (Some readers just went wide-eyed, imagining me having more shortcomings as a birder than I presently do!) It's definitely one of my resolutions for the year.

We finally rounded the bend, with the Columbia now to our right, as well as the northern shore of Reed Island (which I just discovered is one of our state parks). The trees lining the bank held a nice mix of passerines, including Black-capped Chickadee (34), Golden-crowned Kinglet (35), Brown Creeper (36), Bewick's Wren (37), and Yellow-rumped Warbler (38). In the river itself, we had Double-crested Cormorants (39).

The trail here is not a loop. We bemoaned that fact, while also recognizing the value of that for the wildlife. But at one point, we did reach a fork in the road. One trail went inward, towards the center of the whole muddy/flooded/marshy/pond/whathaveyou, while the other continued along the Columbia. we moved inward. From a distance, Bald Eagles (40) were easy to pick out on distant trees, and we also got calls from a Pileated Woodpecker (41). 

Great Blue Heron planted on its real estate

We had several opportunities to see gulls over the course of the walk. A few of these simply got away from me - species-wise. Gulls are often a struggle, even if they're adults, sitting in front of me, wearing a name tag. In flight, even more so. A California Gull (42) did make a nice long glide over the refuge, and Cindy helped point out some of the features that help distinguish gulls in flight. Like the eBird rigor, figuring out gulls in flight a bit better is one of the goals/resolutions/growththingies for the year.

We'd seen swans from the entrance, but they were a little hard to get in the scope. Here we finally got a peek-a-boo view of one of the Tundra Swans (43). We also talked about the calls a little bit. My previous distinction: Trumpeter Swans sound like trumpets. Tundra Swans. . . don't. But I picked up a fun new one from Les and Cindy: "Tundra swans sound like they're having a Tun of Fun. Woooo! Woooo!!" 

Even typing it now gives me the giggles. That one will stick.

A Hairy Woodpecker (44) eventually was close enough for me to hear it. Again, I. . . I mean it's probably witchcraft. As we now had a better view of more of the central ponds (I'm going to give up on deciding when to distinguish a pond from a flooded field for now), we started picking up more species of ducks, including huge numbers of Green-winged Teal (45), and Northern Pintail (46).

Following the path inward, we had some good luck with sparrows. Many more Golden-crowned Sparrows, a ton of Dark-eyed Juncos, and a great view of a Lincoln's Sparrow (47). We also had a Savannah Sparrow here (48), although I didn't get a good view of one until later in the walk. We crossed a little bridge, with Great Blue Herons sometimes just plopped down in the middle of the trail, certain that we would turn around, rather than cross over their personal little puddle. 

As we entered more trees, we had Fox Sparrow (49), and much better views of Hairy and Downy Woodpeckers. Numerous American Wigeon gave us the chance to search for a Eurasian. We eventually reached the end of this trail and headed back. Cindy and I briefly explored a little further down the branch of the trail that went along the Columbia. She added more Golden-crowned Sparrows, and Meadowlarks to the list, but we never pulled out anything too strange, as sparrows go. 

While we came up empty on the big prizes, I got a great walk in, got to bird with some lovely people, and came away with 49 species on the year list for Clark. Some Rock Pigeons in Washougal made it 50.

Decision time in Washougal

HERE was the rub. I was trying to figure out why I was going into the Clark County year with a little less excitement than the other counties. 

Vancouver. 

Seattle, Spokane, Tacoma. . . and then Vancouver. That's your list of the most populous cities in the state of Washington. I know some people really don't like birding in King County because there's just so much traffic to deal with. 

Vancouver is smaller than Seattle, land-area-wise, but it's still pretty big! And 50 or so square miles of urban sprawl in a county that's only 600 or so square miles to start with. . . it's just different from the places I have been birding for a few years. Narrow it down more in the winter, when some roads just aren't open. I saw where some good birds had been found - Rough-legged and Red-shouldered Hawks, Acorn Woodpeckers, an American Tree Sparrow - and I just got claustrophobic thinking about having to go *through* Vancouver to get to them. 

Skamania was going to leave me too far away from home, and for not as many birds as I would have hoped, given the hour of the day. 

So, I bolted. I decided that adding some birds in Cowlitz County might be the best way to finish off the trip, leaving me closer to home as well, once the sun was headed down.

Woodland Bottoms

This place is one that I've visited a few times. It's easily accessed from I-5, and there are many places to pull off and scan huge fields. I just did a check, and following this trip, my life list from Woodland Bottoms had grown to 86 species. Over half of the birds on my Cowlitz life list had first been seen along these wide-open fields. By design, that should change this year. Getting to 150 species for the year is going to require a lot of moving around, especially when spring and summer come, opening up some high elevation areas. 

I have a funny relationship with these Really Good Spots! They bring in a lot of species to help me towards my goal. But part of the purpose of these years is to explore! Nonetheless, the lure of Sandhill Cranes and Rough-legged Hawks was enough to pull me in. 

I actually landed on a big flock of gulls very early on. Hopefully, even in these short few posts I've made, one thing has become clear - I struggle with gulls. This particular flock was close to the road in a flooded field and was almost entirely Short-billed Gulls (64 for the year in Cowlitz), accompanied by 5-10 Great Egrets. One larger gull in the group turned out to be a Herring Gull (65). The big chonky bill, pale iris, light mantle, pink legs, and dark primaries made this one an easy ID. Thank the lord.

I found no Rough-legged Hawks as I'd hoped, but Northern Harriers (66) were a nice addition. 

Taking the roads all the way to the Columbia, and heading North, I took it all the way to the end of the line. Common and Hooded Mergansers were in the Columbia. For one of the first times on the trip, I had to remind myself that the other side of the river was Oregon. In this case, the state line runs right through mid-channel. 

A productive spot

Heading back down along the Columbia, I found a nice pull-off. A couple of homes lined the "exit", along with a lot of trees, as it dropped down towards the Columbia. Here I got my first Varied Thrush (67) of the year, and my first Horned Grebe (68) as well. 

At another pull-off, looking at the Columbia, I saw a large mammal cresting in the water. Seal? Sea Lion? I was admittedly flat-footed, not having brushed up on my sea mammals before heading out! I did find an eBird report from the same day at another point on the river that reported an increase in these mammals, potentially following a smelt run. This was also given as a potential reason for the sightings of Brandt's Cormorants upriver as far as Portland.

Continuing through the loop, I came across more of the same gulls, more Red-tailed Hawks, Bald Eagles, and American Kestrels. After passing some small groups of Sandhill Cranes (69), I finally found about 200 of them together in a field. This was the place where I'd added these birds to my life list years ago. Woodland Bottoms is one of the reliable places to find them in Western Washington in the winters. I finished the day with one more addition, as a pair of Trumpeter Swans (70) flew overhead calling. 

70! Not a bad total for Cowlitz, given the way I'd spent the time - crunched in a single area for the CBC, and then crunched for time on this day. It will be interesting to see how weather, rare birds, and whim affect my plans for February! It seems pretty certain that I'll have to get to Skamania! Cowlitz just kind of feels on track. Wahkiakum is off to an amazing start. And Clark . . . Clark is at 50. I did like that I got hours and hours of walking done in Clark. Maybe that will be my play for the year: Only walk for birds. One stop each month in Clark - only walking in a really good spot. Then I can't complain about traffic as much!  We shall see. 

Day 3 completed

Camera update: I had my camera misbehaving last year, got it fixed, and had the same dang thing happen again. The shop where I'd brought it before will be repairing it for free, and we'll be right back to distant fuzzy pictures of birds!