Birding in the Northeast, Jan-Feb. 2009

Cowboy Birdhouse

	The original title of this "cowboy song" was "My Western Home", and while it is the state song of Kansas, it was running through my head for much of my journey through Colorado. It turns out that resulted in a pretty constant refrain, as Colorado is one very big state! I made that discovery in the course of 8 ½ days of birding the 4 corners of what surely is one of the prettiest of the lower 48, as we covered 2300 miles in search of displaying Prairie Chickens and Grouse species. Ably led by Terry McEneaney and Dan Lane, and arranged by Field Guides, 14 of us set off on our trip, leaving from the Denver Airport on Easter Sunday, in a "wintery mix" which blurred the landscape but didn’t cool the optimism for some of Mother Nature’s best avian springtime shows. The various species of gallinaceous (chicken-like) birds which we hoped to see would be in the midst of their breeding displays, on leks which have been in use for hundreds of years. A lek is an Albanian unit of currency. But it’s also a traditional place where males gather during the mating season to engage in competitive displays to attract females. In Colorado, the Greater and Lesser Prairie Chickens, Greater and Gunnison Sage Grouse, Sharp-tailed and Dusky Grouse can all be seen strutting their stuff, though it takes careful advance planning and plenty of miles to see them all. It also takes a good bit of luck at this time of year, as the weather is highly unpredictable. We managed all of that, and then some, as we actually saw a dozen members of the order Galliformes, which includes turkeys and game birds too. In addition, I saw 128 other species, for a total of 140. That turned out to include 25 life birds for me, and that, plus the awesome scenery and more than 20 mammals, made this trip fascinating and fun from start to finish.	Map of Field Guides Trip, April, 2009
	"Air Force Academy" on stadium, barely visible through the snow	Though I was barely able to make out the Air Force Academy’s campus through the falling snow en route to Colorado Springs, we managed a bit of birding while looking for our first night’s accommodations at the Holiday Inn Express. A large pond held many familiar species, such as Common and Barrow’s Goldeneye, Northern Shoveler, Canvasback and Blue-winged Teal. It also yielded one very bewildered-looking Yellow-rumped Warbler ("Gladys, maybe we headed North too soon this year") and several others, including my first ever California Gull. It’s true, I lived in California too many years ago to calculate, but I wasn’t into birding then, or at least, not enough to dope out the finer distinctions of what I then thought of as seagulls! I can’t resist inserting a few words about the Holiday Inn Express, as I was so favorably impressed by those which housed us on this trip. The rooms were large, clean, and quiet, the staff was friendly and efficient, and the breakfasts were great. Highly recommended for road trips!
	A spectacular dawn greeted us the following day, which was spent in working our way toward the extreme SE corner of Colorado, where the deer and the antelope really do still play, honest. Having experienced the many species of antelope in Africa, I was perhaps not expecting much of our very own Pronghorn Antelope. However, this handsome, hefty animal turned out to be one of my favorites, and we saw them on the plains throughout the state, sometimes singly, but occasionally in herds of up to 15. One might be grazing contentedly in the midst of a field of alfalfa, or a group might be dashing across the road in front of us. We watched as a single female, somehow left behind, managed its way under a barbed wire fence, regaining its herd at last. As we learned, the strands of fencing are specially spaced so that the antelope can wriggle under, as they will not or cannot jump over!	Pike's Peak at Sunrise Pronghorn Antelope Pronghorns checking us out
	Ranch land roads Black-tailed Prairie Dog Massive feed lot Western Meadowlark, Comanche Grasslands Wind farm	Passing through mile after mile of ranch land, I enjoyed watching the Black-tailed Prairie Dogs scouting their surroundings, ever vigilant for the fatal swoop of an eagle or a hawk. There were massive feed lots, perhaps a square mile or more packed solid with cattle. The sorry look of their impoundments, combined with the potent odor, might almost be enough to put me off beef - but not quite. We found our first "chicken-bird", the Scaled Quail, sitting on a fence post, calling loudly in the morning sunshine. The Comanche Grasslands were full of Western Meadowlarks singing their hearts out, and a stop at Lake Henry provided more lifers in the form of Western and Clark’s Grebes. There were hundreds of various species of waterfowl, and, much to my surprise, American White Pelicans, which I had previously only seen along our southeastern coasts.
	Having stopped in La Junta to pick up burritos for our picnic lunch (and they were yummy ones too!), we pulled up under a rocky outcrop around noon and enjoyed views of a pair of nesting Golden Eagles soaring above us while we happily munched our Mexican meal. Over the hill rode two cowboys, who stopped to observe us from afar before heading down, at a pace definitely more than a mosey, to see what we might be up to. It turned out to be the rancher and his wife, who were all smiles once they knew that we were on the right side of their fence and capturing views of birds rather than capturing their cattle!	"They went that-a way!" Terry reassures the local rancher, we really are birders!
	Cottonwood Canyon Wild Turkeys displaying White-tail Deer (shot from inside van) Mule deer Big-horn Sheep	Moving on into Cottonwood and Carrizo Canyons, we found a glimpse of the abundance that must once have characterized much of Colorado. Here there were Wild Turkey gathered under a grove of trees, perhaps 30 or more, with 6 males displaying in their own imposing, impressive way. Herds of White-tailed and Mule Deer dashed across the meadow and up into the rocky scrub below the canyon sides. Big-horn Sheep were grazing placidly on the floor of the canyon, perhaps in the process of being reintroduced, as one sported a radio collar. This beautiful setting was also home to Bushtits, Bewick’s and Rock Wrens, Townsend’s Solitaire, and many other passerines which serenaded us. It was, for me, an enchanting oasis which beckoned us to linger.
	But we had places to go, and "chickens" to see! And so we did, the following morning, the first of many very early awakenings, all of which proved well worth the bleary-eyed start to the day. A 4 AM departure got us to a rendezvous with our local guide and school bus driver, Fred, who drove us on out along unpaved ranch roads and into the middle of a large piece of "CRP land". This is a part of the US Government’s Conservation Reserve Program, in which land owners are paid modest amounts not to cultivate, so that native wildlife habitat can be left undisturbed, restored and improved. The Lesser Prairie Chicken is definitely a species in need of help. While it can still be found in the diminishing prairies of Oklahoma, the Texas panhandle, and Kansas, as well as SE Colorado, this species was once hunted for sport by the thousands. Along with its cousin, the Greater Prairie Chicken, in earlier years they had provided sustenance for families struggling through the depression, but have declined significantly as rangelands have been converted to crop lands, along with the fencing of grasslands, droughts and wind farm operations. They nest on the ground, using the minimal cover of the prairie grasses to brood, hatch and raise their young. Estimates put the current population of the Lesser Prairie Chicken at less than 3% of what it was a century ago. Once in position, with no-one moving and no light at all, we sat in the frosty bus awaiting the first calls of the males, as the tiniest hint of dawn crept into the eastern sky. Though it was cold, I was well prepared with several layers, and it wasn’t long before my attention was completely focused on a patch of prairie about 150 yards out. The males were issuing their booming calls, and soon we could see the bowing, strutting, often combative birds with their yellow "eyebrows" (actually inflated fleshy combs) and pinkish esophageal sacs, tails erect and wings dropped. As the females appeared, things got even more heated, as the "dancing" sped up, with birds turning right and left, drumming their feet and hoping for the prize - the chance to be alpha chicken! As the sun rose, and photography finally became a possibility, the birds began to slow down a bit, and soon, as the females departed, the show was over for the day. It was a totally captivating performance, one that reminded me in many ways of the penguins on South Georgia Island: impossible to come away without a smile and a good deal of laughter. What a great start to our chicken trip!	Our bus driver, Fred, was quite a character Lesser Prairie-chicken
	Sunrise spells the end of activity at the Lesser Prairie-chicken lek	A note about the photos used here: as always, there were others on the trip with far better equipment and skills than mine, and I thank each of them for their contributions, especially Pat Newman (PN), an able and diligent photo-chronicler.
	After a welcome breakfast served by Fred’s wife at their home, we headed North, almost into Kansas (and don’t tell anyone, but we did just nip over the state line so we could say we’d been there, and as a beginning to our Kansas lists). Stopping for a windy but warm picnic at the Bonny Lake Reservoir, a Colorado State Park, I did a quick mental review of the raptors seen so far that day, which included nesting Swainson’s and Red-tailed Hawks, several Northern Harriers, a Sharp-shinned Hawk, Bald Eagle, Rough-legged Hawk, American Kestrels and, another lifer for me, super views of Ferruginous Hawks. Not a bad haul in the raptor department, and indicative of the wealth of food available to them in the prairie lands.	Fred and his wife served a f ine home-cooked breakfast (PN) Guides Dan and Terry making guacamole for our picnic (it was great!) Swainson's Hawk (PN) Red-tailed Hawk (PN)
	He's giving her his full attention! (Greater Prairie-chicken, PN) Five males vying for 2 females (PN) Eyebrows and neck sacs disappear when the party's over (PN)	The town of Wray, in NE Colorado, knows a good thing when it occurs in their backyard. As we drove into town, a large banner proclaimed the town’s welcome to birders, which was further reinforced by an interesting talk with the senior family owner of the Bledsoe Ranch. It would be one of the 100 Greater Prairie Chicken leks on his 60,000 acres that we would visit early the next day, and before leading us out through the fields to the best viewing spot so that we would be able to find our way in the dark, he told us about his farming/feedlot operations. It became apparent that one has to master a broad range of skills and knowledge to be a success at modern ranching and I thoroughly enjoyed our visit to his office. In the dwindling late afternoon light we checked out the lekking grounds, which were in the middle of a huge, circular alfalfa field watered by slowly rolling, elevated booms. Fortunately, this has done nothing to deter the birds, as we soon heard and saw shortly after o’dark hundred on April 15. The laughing, almost gull-like calls and two-toned Coke bottle sounds increased slowly, as the males bowed to inflate their two-toned neck sacs to deliver their 2 crucial notes, while females strolled by, nonchalantly feeding as they went. There were occasional fights and stand-offs, as these larger birds, about 50 of them, played out their age-old mating ritual. The ratio of males to females was about 4 to 1, and even those on the outer edge of the action (the alpha males control the center of the lek) were bowing and blowing in hopes of catching the eye of a passing gal. At one point, we had two males engaging in a Mexican stand-off 20' in front of our van, while another landed on the roof of the van behind us!
	A Northern Harrier threatened to put an early end to the festivities, but was apparently intent on his migratory route northward. As the day passed, we were to see hundreds of them winging determinedly north, to their breeding grounds in Canada and Alaska.	Northern Harrier
	Farm museum at picnic stop Pawnee Grasslands (short-grass prairie)	Driving on north and west ourselves, we spent much of the afternoon in the Pawnee National Grassland, which covers 193,000 acres in Colorado. I must confess I was a bit disappointed at first, as I had somehow expected a habitat consisting of a thicker and longer grass cover than what I found. It is "short grass prairie" indeed, with perhaps more low-growing cactus than extremely short grass! But it still has its own special inhabitants which include, at this time of the year, tons of Horned Larks and McCown’s Longspurs, Vesper Sparrows, and at least one Mountain Plover (and it only takes one to make a life bird!). The plover took a good bit of searching, but Craig Caldwell sussed one out from the background with which it blends so well, another lifer for me and most everyone else.
	We finished the day with a visit to the Lower Latham Reservoir, quite near the town of Greeley and just NE of Denver. There was a stiff wind blowing, a portent, perhaps, of the massive snowfall predicted for much of the state in the next few days. But for now, the sun was shining and the marshes were full of goodies, such as my lifer Virginia Rail, teased out from his reedy stronghold by Dan Lane’s persistent tape. An unexpected "Mexican" Mallard (a Mallard race not yet split as a valid species) required a good bit of observation and debate, while a love-crazed pair of American Bitterns threw caution to the winds and walked out in the open. I had never seen the whole bird before, as its habit is to remain frozen in the reeds, bill pointed skyward and thus blending perfectly with its habitat.	American Bittern out in the open!
	Our vans at Loveland Pass, April 16 Yes, it was snowing!	There was no sign of snow as we transited the Denver area before rush hour the next morning, and we pushed on into the mountains towards Loveland Pass. A breakfast stop in Idaho Junction fortified us with home-made treats such as pecan pancakes and eggs benedict, before we really began the climb - and the snow. We had nice looks at Elk and Big-horn Sheep as we cruised upward, but by 8:30 heavy snowfall obscured just about everything, and the driving became a bit more of a challenge in our 15 passenger vans.
	Terry and Dan both did a fine job of getting us safely up to the 11,990' pass, where we stopped to search for another on our list of Galliformes, the White-tailed Ptarmigan. Amazingly, Dan spotted one not 300 yards from the vans, and with careful attention to very slippery footing, I was able to climb up to see it, sheltering from the snowy blasts behind a rock, and almost completely covered by snow, with just its jet black eye and beak giving away its chosen roost. These Ptarmigan are particularly well equipped to handle such conditions: their winter plumage gives them superb camouflage, as it is entirely white, and their feathered legs and feet, as with all species of Ptarmigan, make walking on top of the snow far easier than it would otherwise be. They are fond of tender buds and willow shoots, and find them even at these elevations, though they breed and nest even higher up in the mountains.	White-tailed Ptarmigan, settled in for the storm Birders do the darndest things! Looking at ptarmigan in the snow
	Clear weather on the other side of the pass View of the Rockies as we head toward Gunnison	We were headed toward Gunnison for the night, and what could have been a treacherous drive, due to the predicted storm, turned into a delightfully sunny day once we descended the western side of the pass. The scenery here was sadly often marred by hillsides covered with dead Lodgepole Pines, victims of an insect invasion, not unlike the damage being done by our Woolly Adelgids and Pine Bark Beetles here in the Appalachians.
	Birding our way along, we stopped for lunch in the historic town of Leadville, which has as its privileged view the highest mountain in Colorado, Mt. Elbert, 14,433', and the surrounding Sawatch Range. The town and its surroundings were not overbuilt or tarted up, but offered views of greening pastures, grazing horses, older but tidy farm buildings, and wandering streams, all with snow-covered mountains nearby. We found Sandhill Cranes feeding in many of the fields, and an occasional Coyote and Muskrat, and arrived at our Holiday Inn Express in Gunnison with the sun still shining. However, by the time we left dinner, the temperature had fallen to 28° and snow was falling at a moderate rate. Terry warned us that it could be frigid in the blind, so before I turned in I carefully laid out my full compliment of long unders, fleece and down, double socks and a hastily fashioned pillow for butt insulation. (Lesson: always travel with plastic garbage bags - dirty laundry can come in very handy at times!)	Lunch at the Golden Burro, Leadville Scenery en route to Gunnison Gunnison Sage-grouse blind, April 16
	Not much visibility from my hotel window, April 17 View from the blind, April 17 The bird we came to Gunnison to see	And so it was, at 5:15 that Friday morning, that I suited up and headed out, still in snowfall, with poor visibility threatening to completely blot out our only chances at seeing Gunnison Sage-grouse. It turned out to be not quite as cold sitting in the blind as I’d anticipated, and we did see a few grouse through the snowflakes, though nearby Coyotes on the prowl put an early end to all activity. Breakfast back at the hotel was earlier than we’d expected, but most welcome, and we packed up to hit the road west and northwest, for Fruita, just west of Grand Junction.
	First stop was Crested Butte, best known for its popular ski area and vacation homes, but also a good spot for finding Brown-capped Rosy-finches at bird feeders. It took a bit of searching, however, as not that many people seem to feed birds there, perhaps understandable when snow is still piled roof-high and replenishing a feeder would take wading through one’s backyard snow field. But we did see both a male and female, and a nice, bright Red Crossbill as well, during our cruises through this pleasant, up-market skiers’ town.	Brown-capped Rosy-finch male Red Crossbill male
	Dusky Grouse in the snow The attack of the Dusky Grouse	Mammals en route today included Gunnison Prairie Dog, Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel, Pronghorn Antelope, Elk and Mule Deer, but the highlight of the day was definitely the feistiest grouse I’ve ever seen! We found this testosterone-driven, irate Dusky Grouse defending his parking lot domain as the snow fell lightly in the scenic Black Canyon of Gunnison National Park. It was his territory and he was determined to follow and attack whatever dared enter it! His mustard yellow eye combs inflated, he charged Terry repeatedly, striking with his beak and wings, and while we could not see his purple neck sacs, we could clearly hear his low, soft, growly call, and got some great photos too. It was a really fun, up-close and personal encounter enjoyed by everyone.
	Breakfast at 6:30 the next day allowed a welcome, late sleep-in. As we drove into the Colorado National Monument, a gorgeous morning was dawning, yielding beautiful lighting for the dramatic canyon land scenery, with the Colorado River at the foot of the wind and water-sculpted pinnacles.	Colorado Monument with Colorado River below Wildflowers Colorado National Monument
	Pinyon Jay atop Juniper Western Bluebird (PN) Mountain Bluebird (weforanimals.com)	Two life birds awaited me here, both of them blue (my favorite!). The Pinyon Jays cooperated nicely for photos, as did a Western Bluebird male. He looks much like the Eastern Bluebird at first glance, but his deep rusty breast color is continued onto his shoulders, and his throat is blue, rather than rufous. Speaking of bluebirds, I cannot leave out the elegant Mountain Bluebird, which was plentiful throughout our trip, and had been one of my most wanted "target" birds. After a lengthy effort with tape, a Chukar finally appeared, yet another of our hoped-for gallinaceous birds, along with Gambel’s Quail, seen lower down in a pleasant residential area.
	Though not a new bird for me, this Black-throated Sparrow put in an operatic appearance. It turned out to be one of my favorite photos from this trip.	Black-throated Sparrow
	Porcupine going away Yellow-bellied Marmot on a stick!	Next stop, Craig, CO, to scout out Sharp-tail and Greater Sage-grouse leks for the next day. A long drive through hills and valleys was enlivened by views of a scurrying Porcupine, and a Yellow-bellied Marmot ridiculously perched, with precarious balance, atop a roadside fencepost. Terry proclaimed him the first Marmot-on-a-stick he’d ever seen! We arrived in the area in time to see a few Sharp-tail Grouse giving a preview performance on their lek in the evening sunset. The Greater Sage-Grouse lek was a good 20 minutes away, through the hills and valleys, with snow still much in evidence in the shady spots, and several possibilities for getting mired in the thawing, rutted roads. But at least we would know exactly how to get to the leks in the total darkness the next day.
	The alarm went off way too early at 4:15, and it was frosty and clear at 26°, but with no wind and Greater Sage-grouse awaiting me, I wasn’t complaining. These chunky birds, up to 5 lbs. for the males, put on the best show yet, with their sharply pointed tail feathers fanned perfectly, as they bowed and pumped up their greenish air sacs to produce the most delightful sound - a cross between a pop and a boop, as near as I can describe it. It takes two or three pumping actions to achieve this, as the bulging white ruff droops over their chest, and black filament-like feathers sweep back from their heads, their wings held akimbo all the while. All in all, it is a quite bizarre display, and one which really must be seen, should you ever have the chance.	Sharp-tailed Grouse lek, late afternoon 3 Greater Sage-grouse males, 1 female White ruff and greenish eye combs of displaying Greater Sage-grouse
	A busy morning on the Greater-sage Grouse lek Steamboat Springs is a huge ski area	After having our fill of these great birds, we zoomed on over to the Sharp-tailed Grouse lek, to find these smaller birds, with their bodies held parallel to the ground, tails pointed toward the sky, pattering their feet and twirling about like little wind-up toys. Their bowing and dancing was interrupted with occasional fluttery jumps, just to add to the spectacle.
	The drive that day took us through the very up-market, ski resort town of Steamboat Springs. The vast area covered by the ski slopes was truly impressive.	Abe and Ben, Main St., Steamboat Springs Steamboat Springs is a huge ski area Splendid scenery near Walden She looks a bit interested… …but she walked on by (PN)
	Walden Reservoir, White Pelicans on far shore Angry Pied-bill Grebe, AKA Nessie	Our last night before heading back to the big city was in the little town of Walden, pretty much a drive-through for most, but situated amidst simply lovely scenery, which we enjoyed that afternoon and the following morning. We once again took in a terrific Greater Sage-grouse show, this time with the birds even closer to us, about 50 males and 15 females, doing their very best to ensure the next year’s supply of "chickens", with snow-covered mountains standing watch beyond. Though we failed to see a Prairie Falcon, as hoped, we did find a nesting pair of Golden Eagles, and had the most amazing looks as a furious Pied-bill Grebe. His response to a tape was a creditable imitation of the Loch Ness Monster, as he paddled furiously towards his imagined rival.
	A nice herd of Pronghorn Antelope raced our van for a while, before crossing in front of us, perhaps in their own version of a game of chicken.	Pronghorn crossing 1 Pronghorn crossing 2
	"On a clear day…" What a difference a week makes, April 20 Ski and snowboard tracks cut the new snow at Loveland Pass	What a difference a week makes! Pardon the paraphrase, but Loveland Pass on a clear, sunny day is a totally different experience to what we had had earlier in the trip. The views were terrific, the traffic increased with snow-boarders and skiers headed for the season’s last blast. In fact, it was difficult to spot a slope that had not been cut by those who would pull into a roadside parking area to hike higher up and ski or board their way back down.
	Stopping once again at the top, Dan found another White-tailed Ptarmigan, so that those in the group who had not braved the previous blizzard-like conditions could finally get good views.	Where Dan found the Ptarmigan - again! The whole bird on a clear day (PN)
	Red-naped Sapsucker (PN) Prairie Falcon (freefalconphotos.com)	Coming down the eastern side of the pass we stopped to bird for Red-naped Sapsucker, and wound up not only with a beautiful male on nearby aspens, but a fine, soaring Prairie Falcon, at last, black armpits and all! A few more quick stops added to the trip list with favorites such as Brown Creeper and American Dipper, the latter an exciting lifer for some. We finished up with a fine dinner at The Fort, overlooking the bright lights of Denver and featuring such local delicacies as bison sausage and Rocky Mountain Oysters (in nicely breaded, bite-sized pieces, so I managed a taste - rather like chicken, of course!). Back to the Denver Airport for farewells, and I headed to bed with memories of miles of fabulous scenery, uncrowded and endless vistas of plains and mountains. There were definitely visions of deer, antelope playing, and of course, "chicken-birds" dancing in my head. Just a few random photos: