October 12th-13th - Putting the Kayak in Wahkiakum

Okay, the spelling's not perfect. 

I made a trip to try to get Wahkiakum and Cowlitz counties… closer? Close enough? Finished?? I clearly got this goal – to see 150 species in four counties in the Southwest corner of Washington State – fairly well dialed in. I believe this because we’re in October, and I may or may not reach that goal! You can look at lists of birds and put codes on them and “expect” them, but birds fly.

Entering the weekend: Cowlitz 147, Wahkiakum 139, Clark 146, Skamania 146. 22 birds away from the end of a year-long journey.

I was meeting with Andrew Emlen and Jake Bonello Saturday morning to do some kayaking. On Friday, I got some writing work done, did some packing, and set off in some glorious post-lunch traffic out of Renton. In retrospect, leaving earlier and plugging in along the way would have been ideal, but it’s always hard to leave town with work hanging over me.

I was headed to Woodland Bottoms when I got a text on my phone… Andrew had found a *good* warbler in his backyard. An American Redstart! This was a Wahkiakum County first. "I'm on my way." I texted, changing settings on my GPS.

Andrew did text to clarify that he had been unable to relocate it. I still changed plans slightly, heading to Willow Grove, West of Longview, rather than Woodland. I knew there would be fewer birds here but thought the savings in gas would be an additional benefit.

You’ll never guess what I got at Willow Grove

Wet. Really that was about it. 3 billion Golden-crowned Sparrows, a half-billion American Goldfinches, and a couple of Red-tailed Hawks. It was fun, admittedly, to see the places I’d birded at the start of the year, looking at them with a bit more familiarity. There just weren’t many birds to see! Not in the fields (a little early for the Rough-legged Hawks that have continued to elude me), and not on the water (lacking a nice West wind, some of the loonier and grebe-ier things weren’t exactly getting pushed all the way to Longview.

I gave myself a better chance of finding some of the sparrows by pulling off at the Willow Grove Pumpkin Patch. I had a good chat with the owner before walking the fields, talking about what a slow season it had been. On this drizzly afternoon, a place like Willow Grove would get few families. Because there’s only one road in, it’s not really on the way to anywhere, so they aren’t getting the oh-hey-look-a-pumpkin-patch traffic that other places might get. So, a five-hour day waiting at the patch might only be for a handful of people.

Golden-crowned Sparrow

It was really quite a lovely patch. They had pumpkins, of course, as well as other varieties of squash, and lots of tomatoes at the end of the season. One customer bought up a lot of those for salsa and tomato sauce. They also had a nice field of sunflowers that was *very* birdy. Song Sparrows, Spotted Towhees, White- and Golden-crowned Sparrows, Dark-eyed Juncos and American Goldfinches were all quite happy to have sunflower seeds to eat. At this point, I was really hoping for a Lincoln’s Sparrow, or something even rarer like a Harris’s Sparrow or American Tree Sparrow. But as noted, all I got was wet.

AND a butternut squash for myself, and . . . I can’t say what the other beautiful squash was, but I got one as a thanks-for-the-bed gift for the Emlens.

I headed back to Longview to gas up and get some dinner. I sat down at the bar and ended up next to two men about fifteen years older and younger than me. Both were local, and they somehow got talking about the entire history of the area as I sat and listened.

Folks. . . let me take a moment to make fun of my brain. Lots of interesting things go on in there, and some odd, sometimes interesting, and sometimes beautiful things come out of it. But oh gosh it’s bad at holding onto new information. It’s like… pouring water into a little cup. And pouring more. . . and more. . . At some point, that water is *not* staying in the cup. I got there pretty quickly! I did learn that Longview was founded by R.A. Long (yes… there are some long views from some places, but that’s not where it got its name!), and the whole area looked *much* different before the construction of Lake Sacajawea, and the system of canals running through town (I’d birded some of these along the north end of Longview earlier in the year). They talked about the 100^th anniversary which is being celebrated this year. About who went to school with whom, where the fish were biting, what businesses had recently closed, etc. etc.

What a gift to be able to get this firsthand, and to see the excited conversation between two locals about the history of their town. Even across a few generations, they had things that brought them together.

I made it a slow dinner. I knew the Walmart parking lot was nearby and saw no benefit in making it a long night there. The conversation was good, and I learned that karaoke night was starting at 9 (!!!). As people left, new people arrived, and I had some *good* conversations with a retired electrical engineer who had worked the dams along the Columbia, with a longshoreman/musician, and a visitor from Cathlamet who had come into town for some more serious shopping. I like being able to get the flavor of a county from evenings like this. What a gift.

And at one point, I got talking with a couple (after karaoke night had begun, and I’d gotten the Georgia Satellites out of my system) about my plans for the evening.

“You’re sleeping in your car… in the Walmart parking lot.”

“Yes.”

….

“No. You are not.”

“But. . . “

“No. You are not.”

So, I ended up with a bed for the night in Longview. I was asleep soon after arriving and had to be out the door early to meet with Andrew and Jake. So, I never had a chance to say thank you. All I can do is say here that I was, and am, thankful for generous souls out there in the world.

Wocky Ockum

I made a Burger King stop to get some coffee and breakfast before heading to Andrew’s place. Our original plan had been to meet at the kayak shop, but we wanted to give the American Redstart a chance. 7 A.M. sounded good to all parties. I was late . . . arriving at 7:20 or so, but to be fair, the sun was still not up!

From out stop at the kayak shop as we loaded up

Over the course of the morning, we *may* have had some chip notes that seemed at times to be American-redstart-y, but nothing definitive. The first warbler we saw was a Townsend’s. Pine Siskin (140 for the year) and Red Crossbill (141), are not “exciting” birds in the same sense, but man was I happy to hear them! With as many birds as I needed to reach my goal, these finches had made me nervous for most of the year. Finches are perfectly capable of doing that. Siskins (and their close cousins – the redpolls) are notorious for having irruptive years, or years when they are completely absent.

Scrub-Jays and Towhees kept us on our toes as well, but we eventually looked at the time and hit the road.

Altoona

Whereas Andrew might normally put in with clients at a less rough-and-rustic point, we used the best spot along Altoona-Pigeon Point Road. Before getting in the kayaks, we did some scoping, and found another new bird for my year, Surf Scoter (142).

We eyed Rice Island excitedly. There were so many possibilities awaiting us out there! While only the Eastern end was part of Washington State, the list still included Sanderling, Horned Lark, Lapland Longspur, Brown Pelican, American Pipit, Dunlin, among other birds. In the water, Ruddy Duck, all three scoters, and Pacific Loon were on our radar as well.

As we were loading dry bags into the kayaks, we stopped and watched hundreds and hundreds of Northern Pintails fly by. Then we watched it again. “How many Pintails were there?”, you ask? “All of them.”

Northern Pintails - photo courtesy of Jake Bonello

But we had an East wind. For people like me, who never talk about the direction of the wind, let me clarify: This means that the wind is going *from* the East… to the West. I’ll let you step through that slowly, with accompanying hand motions to help you out, as I needed to do. Now think about the Columbia River, and all of those saltwater birds we were hoping for. An East wind is going to keep them further downriver, near the mouth, and the Pacific Ocean.

Columbia River near Altoona

So our hopes were not too high for river birds! But we got loaded up in the kayaks and got going at around 9:30. Andrew did a brief version of his safety speech, getting me to move my knees out to the edges of the kayak, and having me rock the boat with my hips to help me get a feel for the control I had. Even in a double-kayak (Jake in back, me in front), there were chances to topple if we didn’t think through some of these things in advance. Wave from the side, lean into it. Keep paddling – it gives you another point of stability. Keep your center of mass low. If the canoe rolls, lean forward.

Just being able to get all of this coaching was a gift, honestly. Bird lists aside, I kept reminding myself over the course of the morning that *these* kinds of experiences were also part of the reason that I do these silly years.

The rain held back as we paddled, and I found that I’d dressed just about perfectly for the temperature/exertion levels. Every once in a while, I’d let my hand drag through the water, and found that it was warmer than I’d expected as well. The wind from the East picked up a little bit. It was interesting how the contour of the shore affected this. As we stayed close to shore, things were quite calm. Any time we had to head much further out, the waves grew a little bit.

We decided to stay close to shore to explore a little arch. As we paddled towards it, we picked up some occasional birds at close range: Common Loons, Double-crested Cormorants, Horned Grebes, and some gulls, including Short-billed (Jake’s 170^th life bird in the county!). Up in some trees, we caught a Band-tailed Pigeon, and a Peregrine Falcon.

But most of it was easy paddling. I learned to get more efficient, pushing with my top hand, rather than only pulling the paddle. Jake and Andrew talked about geology, and. . . goodness I had nothing to add here. I listened as they talked about volcanism, the Missoula Floods, the movement of the Continental shores, local features formed by the Yellowstone hotspot, and formation of deep trenches out of the mouth of the Columbia. Please see the note above regarding my brain and glasses of water, but it was beautiful to just sit back and watch these two men patch together their knowledge and discuss the features around them.

We got to the arch, and paddled through it – sandstone on one side, basalt on the other. I checked with Andrew and confirmed that their boundary contained metamorphic rock where the rising basalt would have heated the sandstone. Just past the opening, we got out of the canoes, stretched, and had some lunch (mine… courtesy of Andrew, as I’d come unprepared). We found different pieces of a sea lion skeleton on the small beach we used and talked at length about laws regarding these bones (not something that we could keep).

Columbia River Kayaking
in Skamokawa

We hit the water once more, with the winds just high enough that we decided not to do Rice Island. We debated this for a bit, and it was a hard decision, but the time spent, and the danger added to the day (a day where Jake’s wife had kindly loaned him out while she watched their young kids), were too great, and the birding potential, given the wind direction was not great enough. So, we paddled straight back to our put-in point.

Of course… *of course* as we got close to our destination, things calmed down, and we looked across glassy water at Rice Island, wind at our backs. But none of us doubted that this was the wise decision for the day.

We extricated ourselves from the Columbia, and passed the kayaks back up over the bank, loading them up on the kayak company van. We then took a different way back, along Barr Road, hoping for Dunlin, or perhaps some new geese for my year. We lucked out nearly at the end of the drive, right before the road rejoined Highway 4, with a flock of Greater White-fronted Geese, some still showing extensive black on their belies.

Jake and Andrew investigating trees 

It was a short drive from there to Julia Butler Hansen Refuge. Jake is the manager for the refuge, and conversations shifted seamlessly from geology to biology. Invasives, natives, and the solutions to controlling invasives were the biggest themes.

As we drove into the refuge, a Red-shouldered Hawk flew over the road - the first of two that afternoon. Black Phoebes, another common bird in this corner of the state, were calling almost constantly from both sides of the White-tail Trail as we walked. We scanned sparrows along the way, and it was almost entirely Golden-crowned and Song Sparrows. Lincoln's Sparrow should have been in the county at this time of year, but we were unable to find any. 

At one point, Andrew and Jake spotted a Wilson's Snipe on the edge of the water. I was completely unsurprised when I failed to see the bird, even as it walked along the shore, with a little cover from the greenery around it. I tried to get closer, and the snipe did what snipes do, popping up, calling, and wheeling aroud the pond. We continued, and a second one popped up... and a third... (species number 144 for the Wahkiakum year). 

Wilson's Snipe - photo courtesy Jake Bonello

Virginia Rails needed no encouragement to start chattering in the reeds. I gave them a call - something between a grunt and a chuckle - and got a few to respond. We had a small number of Mallards, and American Wigeon on the pond, but all-in-all there were few puddle ducks seen throughout the day. 

Then. . . 

!!!!!!

We got a Great Egret. I was quick enough to get a shot over Andrew's shoulder. With a quick dive, I got both of them around the shoulders and wheeled them around to see the bird before it flew. 

I know it's hard to comprehend... how could I see a bird *that* amazing and rare, and still feel a need to keep birding for the day, let alone for the year. I soldiered on, nonetheless. 

Black Phoebe - one of several

We ended up with other reasons to stop birding, as it turned out. Jake needed to get home to see his family, and Andrew got more information about a dinner invitation for the evening. 

It wasn't the original plan to have me included in a 30th birthday celebration, but the family hosting the party at the Inn at Crippen Creek had a more=merrier mentality. The Roadhouse was rented for the occasion, and the family took full advantage of the kitchen, putting together two big pans of paella, an enormous salad, and a classic Swedish princess cake (one of the family members was a professional baker). 

As with the night before, it was just a kindness to be taken in for the evening, and my inner extrovert was certainly fed (not just my body, which was happy to be refueled after the paddling and walking). Many of the guests were from the Portland area, so this was a good cross-cultural experience. I explained where Renton was, taught them how to drop the 't' when saying it, to better sound like a native Rentonian. The space allowed for good party "traffic", if that makes sense, with people moving from kitchen table, to porch, to couch. Sometimes I got pulled into conversations, and at other times, I just watched it swirl around me. 

"I think we're going to head back," Andrew informed me. 

"Ah. I've been asleep for a half hour. Good call," I informed Andrew. 

Not entirely untrue. I suppose my eyes were open, but I had definitely turned a corner, and my brain was shutting down operations for the day. We waved our goodbyes and thanked the hosts. I was asleep so quickly when we arrived at the Emlen's. 

Owl o'clock

I woke when a small number was still taking the lead on the clock. I figured if the weather was good, this was the perfect time to try for Northern Saw-whet Owls which would be migrating through. I stepped outside to the yard and gave some whistles. After a little bit, Andrew popped his head out a window to confirm it was me and I let him know I was going to try driving the road a little. 

West Valley Road had so much great habitat - open areas bordered by thick forested areas. Plenty of water in the form of the creek running through. I tried the "normal" protocol, driving a third of a mile, giving it up to ten-fifteen minutes, and moving up another third of a mile. At each stop, I'd start with calls from small owls, and try larger owls at the end of a stop. In six stops, this pulled in two... maybe three Northern Saw-whet Owls (145), and a Barred Owl. The stars shone through thin clouds, and the air was conveniently still throughout. Near perfect owling.

When I got back, it turned out that Andrew had not gotten back to sleep, so we ended up walking from his place up to the road and relocating one of the owls - a year bird for him, and an owl that he has found far less than annually in recent years. 

Goals are still in reach!

September 22nd - Killen Creek Trail to the PCT

Mount Adams from FR 23

I pulled the trigger and made a run to the Northwest side of Mount Adams. I am so happy about this decision. In some years, I have played around more with a statement: "I'm not doing this to see birds." It's not an entirely accurate statement, but it does highlight that just seeing birds. . . I mean, that doesn't encapsulate all of why I do these trips. I also do it to get away from technology for a bit in a life that sees too much of it. The workout that a good hike can bring is also welcome. I do it to explore the culture and the people of a county. And one of the biggest reasons I do this is my love of maps. 

In good weather, one of the best routes
to/from Trout Lake - FR 23

This part of Skamania County is one I've not really explored. Years and years ago, my ex and I had a map of Washington State, and we'd ink in lines for any roads we drove together. Forest Road 23 stood out glaringly as this way to get from Highway 12 to Trout Lake that we'd just never done. Sometimes we did those "new lines" trips and were really glad to have gotten there, made plans to return when we could. 

This was not one of those drives! At the time, the road wasn't in great shape (it's still a little dicey in some of the paved sections!) so the knuckles got a little white. Additionally, it's heavily lined with trees, so the scenery varied little as we drove. 

But I knew from bird reports that there were some amazing birds just off of FR 23. I also knew that the views improved drastically once you start heading off the main road and towards Mount Adams. I. .  ."knew" these things but only from maps. Abstractions showing where species occurred and road maps showing how different places were connected. I always come back to the painting "The Treachery of Images" by Magritte. "ceci n'est pas un pipe" it declares ("This is not a pipe."). Because it's not! It's a painting of a pipe.

Poring over maps and species accounts without ever going to a place and experiencing it. . . holds some of the same treachery! I know that this makes this whole blog an act of treachery towards anyone who reads it. :D But I hope that this is an offense that you are able to correct, maybe by getting out and visiting some of these places. 

And that is what I enjoy most about maps. Those moments when I move the roads, place names, birds, and geographical features from the "abstract" to "real" column. It never ceases to amaze me that these things all really exist, and that they were previously just lines. . . dots. . . words to me before. 

Where the Fancy Chickens (TM) Are

Spruce Grouse sightings

Spruce Grouse was perhaps my most hoped-for target for this trip. I've only seen them once, birding with Kevin Black and Khanh Tran many a year ago. Khanh. . . goodness. He's quite a human, and an excellent guide - very knowledgeable on all things birdy. He has definitely developed a reputation as an Owl Whisperer, and as a Finder of the Fancy Chickens. Spruce Grouse are exactly that. Fancy because you really do have to go out of your way to find them. Having a deep familiarity with the areas where they hang out is valuable. But yeah, once you find them, you realize they really are just chickens, as you snap pictures of them walking around your feet. 

It's a great time of year to look for them; there were several sightings in the week prior; I was stoked. 

Quite a few other birds were possible adds to my year list as well. Interesting in retrospect to look over my scribbled notes and expectations for the trip. I think I went in with the idea that I'd see 5 or 6 new species: 

Clark's Nutcracker, and Mountain Chickadee: definitely

Townsend's Solitaire, Cassin's Finch, Spruce Grouse: All but definitely. I would have wagered a few bucks that I'd find all three of these species. 

An accipiter. Any of them. I'd seen no Sharp-shinned, Coopers, or Northern Gos- Hawks in Skamania. Any would be possible in migration. NOGO and COHA had both been seen in this area in the previous week. Sharp-shinned had been seen on the other side of Adams. The only obstacle would be my lack of skill with accipiters. On that same trip mentioned above, we were driving a back road when Khanh called out "Goshawk!" I watched the bird flying in front of our car, and then disappearing into the trees - I had to just let it go! Experienced, skillful birders can sort these species out, and as far as accipiters are concerned, I'm just not enough of one of those.

There are times, for sure, where I temporarily hold onto all of the details. A trip to the Hawkwatch Observatory on Chelan Ridge had me separating Sharpies and Coopers with ease after a few hours. But as I drove down from the ridge, the information just slowly shlooped out of my brain. With book in hand, perched birds, photos, I can usually get them sorted out. I gave myself even odds of finding a single accipiter on the trip: so 5 or 6 birds. 

Others. . . I had jotted down and just figured that they were imaginative possibilities: Northern Saw-whet Owl, Boreal Owl (which has been observed in this corner of the county!), Peregrine or Prairie Falcon, Northern Harrier, Pine Grosbeak, White-winged Crossbill, American Three-toed Woodpecker, Lapland Longspur, Brewer's Sparrow. If I could get a little higher, I figured that Gray-crowned Rosy Finch or Rock Wren might even be possible. 

Accipiter!

Having left at oh-dark thirty from Renton, I got into this area mid-morning. I pulled over at a pretty meadow at one point when I saw a small accipiter pop up into a tree on the edge. It seemed dark - maybe backlit? But I didn't spend too much time on it in binoculars. I got the camera on it, knowing that eventually I would benefit from any field marks that showed up better in this picture or that picture. 

This was fun to look at later. 

ceci n'est pas une hawk

Merlin! (141 for the yearlist). How. . . was this not on my list of possibilities? And also. . . yeah, look folks. This bird was on the far edge of the meadow, and I didn't really get to see it fly much! There are probably some structural differences that make it easy to separate a Merlin from a Sharpie, but I just had a good laugh at myself when I eventually had a chance to look at the image. I'm just glad that I had the wherewithal to snap some pics. 

I also made a stop at Takhlakh Lake before heading to the trailhead for Killen Creek. Very pretty!

Killen Creek Trail

Killen Creek Trail - this was what most of the trail looked like. Easy Peasy

Help me out, flower nerds!
What is this pretty little flower? 

I got to the parking lot, looked at my bag that included my hiking boots, non-cotton pants, etc. I looked up at the sunny sky, took inventory on how comfortable I felt at the moment in my trail-runners, jeans and t-shirt, and just decided to go with what I was wearing. I applied my sunscreen and bug repellent. . . and then finished my food. This order of events didn't seem so awful until later on the trail when my burps took on a slightly chemical aroma. It wasn't a lot - just enough to notice. Wash your hands, buddy, sheesh. 

I was surprised at the sheer number of Golden-crowned Sparrows I came across throughout the day, starting very early on the trail. They are definitely moving now. Yellow-rumped Warblers, Chestnut-backed Chickadees, and both Kinglets.

Red-breasted Nuthatch

Cassin's Finches (142) called as well from lower parts of the trail, and a Clark's Nutcracker (143) did as well. It was a little frustrating to not have a view of some of these birds as they flew overhead, blocked by the canopy, but the calls were distinctive enough. Both of those points could not have been more true for the next bird I added: Pine Grosbeak (144!). The clear, pretty, warbling call is. . . for me, it's like hearing Allison Krauss. I don't know how else to put it in terms of how clear and pretty it is. Pree-duh-lee-deep! Pree-duh-lee-deep! It called from above the canopy. 

The trail itself was not so bad. I did not regret my choice in footwear, as most of the surface was . . . almost sandy. It wasn't all that steep, although in parts there were some big steps that made my knees flinch! 

I don't know when I've done a hike quite this slowly. I just wanted to be able to hear the clucking of Spruce Grouse if some happened to be a little bit off the trail. So, I'd stop periodically, listen, and look around. On one of these stops, I heard some tap-tap-tapping. It took a little while to trace this to the source - the Red-breasted Nuthatches, which were particularly dense in parts of the trail. Tapping is a minor part of their repertoire. Some of them got vigorous enough with that tapping to trick me into thinking I had a woodpecker. 

THOK THOK THOK

Pileated?? I wondered on this one. In fact, I just now looked on eBird, and it wouldn't have been completely out of the question. But was it loud enough to be a Pileated Woodpecker? I moved towards the sounds, and eventually found the source. 

American Three-toed Woodpecker! (145)

This one *was* on my list of possibilities. They do tend to favor places with recent burns - perhaps the reason why there were clusters of sightings in this area, several in some years, none in others. I'd seen no reports in the county this year, so I wasn't *really* expecting an American Three-Toed Woodpecker. It stayed and thwacked away, and it was nice to have a chance to really enjoy the bird. I have only come across them less than a handful of times before.

Two of my favorite Pete Fahey quotes came to mind: 1) Kaching! (something he called out almost without fail when he found a good bird. I hope that some of you have had a chance to hear him say this, and that this made you smile). 2) "How do you find those good birds, Pete?" "I go out. And I look for them." For the amount of time I'm heading out birding, I feel like the number of good birds I'm *discovering* isn't all that high. This in part comes back to a plain old lack of skill at times. It would be fun when it's all said and done to go back and look at a bloopers reel of my life. Hopefully it would include all of the amazing birds that I've had in my binoculars. . . written off as something common. . . and left behind me. 

But this one felt like a fine find. I allowed myself a kaching. :)

Mountain Chickadee

Continuing higher yet, I heard more and more Mountain Chickadees (146). By the end of the hike I penciled in an eBird-flaggable 30 of them by a conservative estimate. I don't know why there were so many of them, or why there usually *aren't* quite so many. Once things opened up a little more, I had more opportunities to visually check them. Chestnut-backed Chickadees can get a little raspy when they're just kids. Some people cite this as a potential source of confusion for IDs. I can see someone mixing them up, but they do seem distinctive to me, and my binoculars confirmed what my ears were hearing. 

Primitive Blog, No Warning Signs

Those road signs are a warning sign, and I suppose that the title here is one too. There are times on these trips where things in life, combined with the trip itself, the sights and sounds around me. . . just take me apart. 

After a couple of hours of thinking that things would open up around the next corner (and, I'll be honest, a couple of hours of turning each corner, pointing ahead of me and calling out "Spruce Grouse". . . a routine that proved to have very little predictive power), it finally did. 

A good bit of climbing and being enclosed . . . followed by a wide-open flat meadow. . . a log to sit on. . . and Mount Adams tucked in partially behind a cloud (as it would be all morning). I just sat and had a cry. There has been some climbing in life of late. There have been enclosing circumstances, where I'm wondering. . . when is this going to open up? There have been some efforts in life where I have this feeling of "almost there" (similar to the feeling someone might have when they are 146/150ths of the way towards a goal, yeah?). Even Mount Adams being hidden... being right there and having it tucked just barely out of sight. 

I LOVE when places like this take life and paint it for you. I know not everyone out there quite enjoys a good occasional cry. I don't mind them at all. We cry when we care about things. This was a moment to reflect on those things, reflect on the journey, and to be overwhelmed by a feeling of promise and hope. Apologies for the interruption to the bird stuff, but hey. . . there was a warning sign!

Back to our regularly scheduled program: 

The bird highlight at this little meadow was another Pine Grosbeak, calling out with a flight call, a more husky "pretty pretty". Again from behind the trees, despite my efforts to get in a better spot to see them.

I continued on, crossing a little stream, and still slowly ascending, now in more open habitat. And I had this great birding moment: Goshawk! Maybe. . . soaring ahead of me, almost headed behind a tree. And Spruce Grouse! Obviously. . . scurrying along on the ground to my left. What to do? Where to point the binoculars? It's one of those split second decisions that separate the Really Good Birders from the Not Very Good at this Birders, I'm sure. 

So, of course, I looked down and left. The rest of this darkly-feathered bird popped into full view for me. 

Have ya seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Great movie. King Arthur is on an epic journey to find the Holy Grail. He at one point arrives at the castle that is purportedly holding the grail. And it's occupied by these annoying Frenchmen who proceed to ridicule him. 

"How DARE you profane this place with your presence!!" is the line that comically comes to mind every now and then, when I am similarly on the hunt for a Good Bird in a Good Place. . . 

And it's a damn Northern Flicker. lol

I love flickers. I wish them no ill will and enjoy the guffaws that they bring when this happens. There are just a lot of flicker-sized birds out there that are really good birds, so this will not be the last time this happens to me. 

The hawk was big. . . soaring through an opening and seemed long-tailed. There were lots of signs that pointed towards Northern Goshawk, but I didn't get on it in binoculars to see any color. Couldn't look for an eye stripe. Couldn't get any other field marks to even make sure it was an accipiter. (not that I'd make that kind of mistake. . . heh.). I will wonder!

Northern Flicker. . . 

A little more walking and I reached my endpoint for the day, the Pacific Crest Trail. 

Romantically, I love the idea of walking the whole thing in Washington. I've touched it a few times this year, but it's just been too impractical to make concrete plans to walk much of it. Even today, I started ten steps down. . . and stopped to ask if I was really ready to make it twenty steps. And why?

Above me I could see the scree above High Camp. The trail up to High Camp started right at this intersection, and I had the same twenty step discussion with myself. I imagined Rock Wrens, and Gray-crowned Rosy Finches up there, but I had to think of what my end-goals were for this trip, and/or this day.

As easy as the hike had been, my legs and feet were barking at me a little bit, so I decided to have a rest there at the intersection. I had some water, listened for birds, and scanned for raptors using the ridges below. At one point, there was a big push of sparrows coming through. I was only able to find Golden-crowned Sparrows and Dark-eyed Juncos before a couple came by. We chatted for a bit - I'm just not generally inclined to be a "shut up, I'm birding" kind of person! So if any Chipping or Brewer's Sparrows were tucked into the 2-3 dozen sparrows that came through, I was not to find out. 

I spoke with the couple about their hike, about my goals up there, and of course, about grouse. This became a recurring theme. Exchanging of pleasantries, followed by "hey by the way, have you seen any grouse up here?" 

The responses: "Yes, on the road up here." (twice), "No", and "No, but I did see some prairie chickens back by Keene's Horse Camp." 

. . . 

And why wouldn't they think that Spruce Grouse were chickens?? As explained above, they certainly act like chickens. Having gathered the information I needed, I closed my survey booth, and started back down towards the trailhead. 

From the trailhead, it was up to Keene's Horse Camp, down the road to Horseshoe Lake, and a totally not accidental drive to Ollalie Lake. I scanned the road, and off the edges when there were nice bits of clearing. And somehow, I came out of this trip with no Spruce Grouse!

But I'm more than okay with how this trip turned out. With some hours of daylight left, I grabbed dinner in Packwood, and then made my way back home. The gas I'd put in the car early in the morning in Renton had gotten me down and back. I collapsed in my own bed, and hey. . . I only had *one* day of photos, bird sightings, and blog posts to deal with. Today (September 23rd) has been restful. I was able to poke at a little bit of work and know that I won't be trying to squeeze the time in to get this written. There are a couple of birding list checkmarks that were not checked, but I'm also keeping an eye on balance. This trip checked many boxes for balance. :)

September 5th - Skamania and Clark

Gotta get back in the. . . 

Black-backed Woodpeckers are fun birds. I haven't seen a whole lot of them over the years, but I did come across one, actually on the 4th of September. My vehicle, after three weeks in an auto repair place, waiting for a new engine, was finally ready to go. I got my son moved into the dorms again at Central, and took the back-back road to Yakima, over Ellensburg Pass, on the way to pay my mom a visit. Yakima was home as I was growing up, and as such, I'd really love to get the species total to 200 (which would require a single new bird!). I hoped for White-headed Woodpeckers up there in the Ponderosa habitat, but *only* came away with a Black-backed Woodpecker.

I know - Yakima isn't a county I'm "doing" this year! But A) It's so rare that I get half-decent photos of some interesting birds. I had to share. and 2) It helps explain part of the exploration the next day. 

Wicky Shelter

Wicky Shelter is a campsite and trailhead just south of Mount Adams. It's where I started this trip on the 5th, driving up after dinner with Mom, and camping in the car. I'd missed some valuable time in Skamania, and had my fingers crossed for several birds, including Black-backed Woodpeckers. 

I was up at civil twilight, and it was brisk to say the least! But I got the day started with some coffee, enjoying the spacious protected picnic area. Very early on, I heard some of the tap-tap-tapping that I'd been hope-hope-hoping for. The bird was not as cooperative as the woodpecker up on Ellensburg Pass! That said, it did vocalize, and matched the slightly wooden "peek" call I'd heard the day before. I circled the copse of trees, and just could not find the silly thing. 

I saw a trailhead and figured of course it would lead me to some other less skulky woodpeckers, along with some of the other birds missing from my year list. It really did not! The trail was lined with Douglas Maple, snowberry, and vanilla leaf, along with other plants. There was just enough of this growth impinging low on the trail to create a near-constant swish swish, making it hard to walk AND listen for birds. When I did occasionally stop, I would listen to the silence, occasionally picking up some other distant woodpeckers - both Pileated, and Northern Flicker. 

I tried calling for Northern Pygmy Owl and was shocked at just how many Red-breasted Nuthatches and Chestnut-backed Chickadees there were in the area! Together with some Yellow-rumped Warblers, they clustered in the tops of trees nearby, and provided at least an interesting ruckus of noise during my walk back to the car. 

At the car, I immediately heard the same tapping and calls from the same trees. I looked. . . looked. . . and then went a little wide-eyed as a Black-backed Woodpecker came flying out, pretty much directly at me! I'd been looking at the pictures from the previous day and enjoyed picking up some of the field marks that I would otherwise have not known to look for. No pictures on this one, but a very satisfactory look. 130! That was the new year total for Skamania, after weeks and weeks of stalled progress. 

I tried a little bit more calling for Northern Pygmy-Owl, and was now successful, with a NOPO coming in to investigate in some nearby trees. Some of the birds mentioned above also came in to investigate! 

Northern Pygmy-Owl (131)

Two new birds! It still left me 19 birds short of the goal for the year, but it was early enough in the day. I started back to the car, and once again heard tapping. This time from a different tree. The lighting wasn't the *best* but I finally got on the bird and found it was a Williamson's Sapsucker! (132). 

Williamson's Sapsucker

I wasn't hearing any of the songbirds or finches I'd hoped to have in this area, so I tried slowly driving back down 8040 towards Trout Lake. A couple stops brought me a few more birds, including singing House Wren (133) and Cassin's Vireo (134). This was a huge score, as they wouldn't be expected for much longer in the county for the year. I also got some finches! Red Crossbill (135), and Pine Siskin (136) had been hard to find during the previous year. Sometimes finches are just like that! I wasn't banking on them making a comeback, but they were present throughout the morning. 

Waiting round the bend. My. . .

Huckleberry fields were posted left and right as I drove through Trout Lake, and then westward towards Skamania County again. A huckleberry muffin and a cup of coffee from Trout Lake fueled me as I did a lazy explore down forest roads towards the Columbia. Stopping at one field (where more finches put on a show), I actually found some ripe huckleberries at my feet. Absolutely delicious!

I drove down Carson-Guler Road and then down FR 66. I had a vague recollection of driving some of this stretch with my ex-wife many years ago. We'd done the drive not for huckleberries, but for a view of the Big Lava Bed. Funny how many years ago that was, and somehow it's only now that I found out that this lava bed is not related to that little eruption we had back in 1980. It's funny in retrospect. I knew that there had been mudflows, not lava flows, per se. 

Everywhere, trees have pushed up through the lava bed. 

8000 and more years ago, there was a cinder cone that was the source of all of this lava. On this day, I actually parked the car at one point, and tromped up to the edge of the road, getting enough elevation to look out and enjoy the view a little more. Apparently, there is a cratered peak somewhere in the middle of all of this - hikable, and now holding a meadow within. It's the kind of thing I absolutely would have gotten to, had Skamania been my only county this year. I registered this thought, reminding myself to come back to it some day when I was plotting out the next course. 

More meadows, more lakes, but no new birds, and I finally descended all the way to the Columbia. 

One of the many bits of prairie off of FR 66 that I wish I had visited earlier in the Season!
Red-Shouldered Hawk has been seen recently somewhere around here. 

Hardy har. . . 

Common Mergansers

Harlequin Ducks were having a laugh at me this year, it would seem. I had tried for them in May, again in June/July, and I tried one more time on this trip. They frequent the Little White Salmon Fish Hatchery during breeding season. This trip was right on the tail end of that season however. They may have gone for the year, or perhaps were tucked back behind the hatchery. Either way, they were nowhere to be found. Plenty of Common Mergansers were getting some family time in, all along the river. I also failed to find the Canyon Wrens that have been found off and on here throughout the year. 

Neither of these birds were "counted on". I had a good long list of possibilities in my head, and just tried to get to the right spots. The next spot was Home Valley Park. I'd seen that shorebirds were occasionally reported from this spot, although it was hard for me to imagine exactly where they would find any good mud!

I went to the sailboard launch and walked down to the water, where my questions were answered. 

Least Sandpiper (137) and Western Sandpiper (138)

Two Western Sandpipers and a Least Sandpiper were working the muddy shore, giving some nice side-by-side views, and even a brief flight where the size differences were a little more apparent. Shorebirds are tough in Skamania! So, this was definitely a little wind in my sails. 

Robert Louis . . .

Stevenson was where I had hoped to find Northern Shovelers. See. . . they are sold to us as a Code 1 bird. But I think it's a scam. I think just like Big Oil and Big Pharma, Big Shoveler is out there working at levels that we just aren't aware of. This was one of the last Code 1 birds for me in the county. I'd seen nearly no sightings of them in the early months of the year... or migration...or breeding season. to be a code 1 bird, they have to be. . . like, present at *some* point, yeah? I'd asked my friend Wilson about this at each of those steps, and it's alllways been "Oh they'll be here soon." I'm telling you... it's impossible to know, even with friends... Big Shoveler has got so many people in their pockets. Or. . . maybe in those long bills? 

Purple Martins are another bird that has been hard to stumble upon. I'm sure there must be gourds in the county, but I keep failing to ask, and . . . unsurprisingly, I keep failing to find Purple Martins! I gave the waterfront a good long look and stopped at the Rock Creek Mill Pond. The regular Canada Geese, and the Domestic-ish Goostrosities were present, but I saw no big bills, heard no syruppy churp churrps. It was getting close to lunch, but I pressed on. 

Strawberry Island just down the road had been the site of a Red-shouldered Hawk sighting, as well as some other interesting birds, such as Lewis's Woodpeckers, and . . . Northern Shovelers. 

It was pretty quiet on the trail, and I caught very little of interest on the treetops as I walked. Nearly back to the car, I finally got them - a family of Northern Shovelers (139) out on the Columbia. 

Or did I? ;)

Stop freakin, call. . . 

Beacon Rock State Park was a necessary side-of-the-road stop, with the possibility of Canyon Wren and Peregrine Falcon, both of which I'd had here in the past. You miss 100 percent of the shots you don't take, right? I missed this one too, however. At one point, a woodpecker with broad wings zipped overhead and into the trees. I tried to think about size and shape for the possibility of a Lewis's Woodpecker, and even took a small trip down the path on the East side of the Rock. But the bird seemed to have dissolved right into the trees. Both species are there year-round, so I was okay with the idea of continuing up to Skamania Landing.

At times, Skamania Landing is nice and muddy. I'd actually stumbled on (and failed to identify) a single shorebird here months and months back. On this particular day, it was mud-free. Totally full of water. I frowned and looked off to the other side of the road, where a little slough had some Wood Ducks, turtles, and. . . a Green Heron! (140).

Green Heron. Anyone else think that only Jim Henson could dream up this creature? :D

This was a nice surprise. Getting things to 140 was a treat. It made things feel like they were in reach. (see page at left for running totals and needs lists for more on that).

My final stop was at St. Cloud Wayside. Ripe apples on the ground gave a lovely scent to the air, and the spot once again provided some dragonflies, but there were otherwise no new or particularly interesting birds at this stop. Had I been able to get here back in August, there had been hopes of finding Red-eyed Vireos here, but they would be long gone by now. 

The googles are telling me. . . Variegated Meadowhawk. Definitely a new creature for me!

Clark, that's. . . 

Semipalmated Plover

The gift that keeps giving the whole year has been Steigerwald. But all reports seemed to be pointing me to Shillapoo Lake. Situated on the West side of Vancouver, it has been just far enough outside of civilization to feel "away". Between mid-August and my trip, roughly 20 species of shorebirds had been seen at the lake, ranging from Ruddy Turnstone to American Avocet. 

I arrived, and quickly picked up a bird that I'd been worried about missing for the year, Vaux's Swift (138 for my Clark list - new parentheticals start here!). They were ubiquitous throughout my late afternoon walk, joined by Barn Swallows, and a single Bank (139!) that I was able to pick out of the pack, first by sound, then by sight. 

Baird's and Least Sandpiper

No American Bittern though! These birds are hard to miss in Clark County, but. . . I have a talent for these things. ;) I scanned the edges of the muddy lake and found nothing but a Northern Harrier. Early on, I picked up two new year birds, a Semipalmated Plover (140), and a Baird's Sandpiper (141). Both species had been seen and reported, but it was nice to have them at short distances where identification was easier. Walking the North side of the lake, many of the birds were backlit. So, I decided to just walk the whole thing, and then slowly make my way back, eyeing the shorebirds under better lighting. 

One nice surprise as I walked was a call from a California Quail (142)! This bird was definitely not on my radar for the day, let alone for the year. It was encouraging to see a report from not just the same day, but the same part of the lake. 

Plenty of American Goldfinches around the lake

At some point, the autofocus on my camera was not doing a good job of guessing what I wanted to focus on. So. . . yeah. . . I may have turned it off, with hopes of dialing things in and getting focused on the birds I wanted. . . and. . . then I may have forgotten to turn autofocus back on. lol. Add to this, sometimes the birds were a bit far off. If I couldn't get a couple dozen birds picked out well in binoculars, I'd get the camera on them, take some shots, and move along. It's just that. . . I got home and found a lot of blurry shots! Nonetheless, I did come away with a few other new birds on the walk: Western Sandpiper (143), Lesser Yellowlegs (144) at Shillapoo, and then two more gulls, Ring-billed (145), and Glaucous-winged (146), at Vancouver Lake, and a nearby field respectively. 

146! This was exactly what I'd been hoping for with the trip to Shillapoo, and in the end, I think that the year goals are still intact. Having Clark *done* would have made for an even smoother ride, but I can be pretty picky about how I get those last birds now. 

Even after missing a month and more, the goal seems within reach!

July 26th - Clark County Hotspotting

I slept in.

This wasn't all bad. My shoulder had been flaring up off and on for a few weeks, and it seemed like I was making a turn for the better if I could wrangle a good night's sleep somehow. But it definitely decided some things for me. As I went to bed, Kevin Black and I were texting back and forth about the trip, and he had suggested a run over to Skamania. Red-eyed Vireo and Eastern Kingbird were two good birds that had been seen in recent days. Any new birds in Skamania at this time of year had my attention, as I figured it would be one of the tougher ones to lift to 150 species for the year. 

But with the sun already well up in the sky, I had to drop those plans, and try to make the most of Clark County birding. 

I went down to the lobby at America's Best Value Inn and waited my turn at the breakfast table. . . behind another. . . hotel guest. . . who was there with his skateboard. I was tired enough at the time that it sunk in very slowly that this person was in to take advantage of a free meal. It also made sense of the signs posted around the lobby, with a list of NO's that included skateboarding. I eventually got in for my coffee and toast, then got packed up to start my day. 

Ugh, Ridgefield

It's so rude of me to be this way about an amazing nature reserve. But gosh I'd love it if visits to the River S Unit at Ridgefield NWR were not an auto route. There are places to stop and get out. A trail here and there, but . . . most of the birds one would want to find can be found from one's car. You just need to drive up a few dozen feet, look around, start the car again, rinse, lather, repeat. That said, if this is your birding jam, and you want a chance to get some great pictures of a wide range of species, it's a great spot. 

For me, this particular morning brought me a lot of the breeding species I'd been missing for the year in Clark: Plenty of ducks, including Blue-winged Teal (125 for the Clark year), and Redhead (126). Swallows, including Purple Martin (127, using gourds near the entrance), and Northern Rough-winged Swallow (128). I even got a few songbirds, which I knew might have gotten quiet here at the tail end of July. This included a Bullock's Oriole (129) using a feeder near the fee station, and a Western Wood-Pewee (130) calling from the wooded areas on the far end of the loop. 

Rails were another treat. The first addition was a Virginia Rail (131), which I watched scurrying across a small pond. I heard more of them later, as well as a nice clear call from a Sora (132). A Spotted Sandpiper (133) was the final addition for the day. Shorebirds were otherwise a bit elusive and/or far from the road. 

Shillapoo Lake

Green Heron

I'd had a long list of birds that I hoped to find at Shillapoo Lake, but this list had been whittled down to a reasonable number by the time I was done at Ridgefield. I made plans to meet up with Randy Hill at the lake, taking the back roads, rather than returning to I-5. This was fun! I actually got to a point where I paused at an intersection, unsure of which way to go, when I recognized "Felida" on the sign. This was a place I'd been earlier in the year, so I took the road and continued South. 

We actually met up at Vancouver Lake, where we had Great Blue Herons, Great Egrets, Brewer's Blackbirds, and a Willow Flycatcher. Nothing new for the year, and we did try to find grebes (Clark's breeds in the area). 

At Shillapoo, one of the first new year birds was found by another birder. They thought they were on an American Bittern (which I am also missing!), but it turned out to be a Green Heron (134). Some swallows gave us hopes of finding a Bank Swallow. I did not find one but did finally pull out a Cliff Swallow (135) for the year. Careful scoping landed us on a Yellow-headed Blackbird (136), and a Long-billed Dowitcher (137). Other shorebirds included Greater Yellowlegs and Least Sandpiper, neither new for the year, but a nice sign that shorebirds were favoring this lake. 

I eventually ran into time constraints. I needed to be back in Renton to clock in at my job with Dad's Taxi Service, so I gave Randy some regretful goodbyes. I was sure that another hour would have pulled out more birds. It was especially difficult because I was leaving with my life list at 149 in Clark County. 

I texted Kevin once again: 

"Went out with Randy Hill. He left my life list in Clark County at 149. What a jerk."

The response: "You deserve it for your neglect of our fine county with our fine birds that you have turned your nose up to for Wahkiakum and Cowlitz."

See, Kevin understands. :D

So, here's the year tallies: 

Looks like about 50 more times where I have to see a bird I haven't seen for the year. 3 more in Cowlitz, 11 more in Wahkiakum, 13 more in Clark (easy peasy), and 21 more in Skamania (diff. . . hard pea.. why isn't there a cute expression like easy peasy for things that are not easy?). Skamania is going to be tough! Two things work in my favor: I had awful results in the winter, so there should be some good new birds to find when the days get shorter. Also, late summer should be a good time to get up in some elevation to find some of the *good* birds that Skamania has to offer. Crossing all fingers!