March 8th, 2014: North Spit Jetty.....By Bike!

             Up here in Humboldt County, I lack something that would greatly aid my birding. It has four wheels and goes "vroom-vroom". For those of you who are onomatopoeically ignorant, I'm lacking a car. Back home in Pacifica, my parents were very lenient with their lending me the car, which I will forever be grateful for, especially now experiencing life without a vehicle, so getting around San Mateo County, or doing the San Francisco Christmas Bird Count in the Presidio, or chasing a Rusty Blackbird in Marin County, wasn't an issue at all! However, now chasing a Black Vulture in Ferndale, or attempting to find a Ruffed Grouse along Maple Creek Rd., or even chasing a Burrowing Owl at Clam Beach, becomes extremely problematic. Luckily, I have my trusty bike that dates back to the 80s! Despite the myriad problems and accidents I've had this past semester (not even counting all the ones from last semester), this bike has taken me all across the Arcata Bottoms, to the Arcata marsh innumerable times, and has gotten me my lifer Little Bunting. Needless to say, I depend on this bike like a child depends on its mother's milk. However, I started getting a little tired of always visiting the same spots in Arcata. I felt like switching it up today. So rather than hitting Shay Park, or biking through the Arcata Community Forest, I decided to bike 13.5 miles to the North Spit Jetty. This jetty boasts the best sea watching in the county, and is also the most reliable spot to get Rock Sandpiper in the state. Having been there before, and having experienced its undeniable awesomeness, I thought I should muster up the courage to bike all the way out there. So, I put my alarm for 6:45 AM, and left my dorm around 7:15 AM.

              It wasn't as cold as I had presumed it would be, which was a pleasant surprise. I biked along Samoa Blvd. for approximately an hour (fortunately there's only one road to get all the way to the jetty, so my chances of getting lost were pretty low. Although given my track record, I was nonetheless careful). At around 8:15 AM, I finally arrived at the jetty. I was sweaty, tired, enthused, and downright ready to bird the hell out of the jetty. After all, that's why I put myself through all this trouble. Sadly, I didn't actually start birding until 9:00 AM, because I made the bad mistake of saying "G'Morning!" to an overly enthusiastic and affable photographer, who had me ID a bird in one of his photos. This led to him explaining to me that he pioneered waves in Mendocino County, whatever that meant. Finally, once I was freed from his zealous clutches, I began birding. As I was walking down the jetty, a noticed a single Brant flyover. Humboldt Bay is one the largest wintering grounds for Brant in the state, notably southern Humboldt Bay, due to its extensive Eel Grass fields, the primary food source for these pelagic geese. I then started noticing some rock pipers working the mussel-adorned rocks right by the jetty. These birds consisted in the usual suspects: Black Turnstones and Surfbirds. However, I was able to pick out 2 individual Rock Sandpipers! One of the species I was after! Although not a lifer, it was year tick for me, and it is always a spectacular bird to see, especially since I don't seem them all that regularly.

Rock Sandpiper

          A wave suddenly surged from behind them and spooked them further down the jetty. I continued on down, birding as I walked. There was a Common Loon on the south side of the jetty, and I could hear the high-pitched calls of Western Grebes coming from the northern side of the jetty. I then noticed something grayish on one of the dolos. Further inspection proved this something to be a Wandering Tattler, another year tick for me! I had ran into another birder on my way down the jetty (the very sweet Alexandra Lamb), and she had told me about this bird. I was happy to have refound it sitting lazily atop the concrete dolo. It then got up and started walking around, offering nice views of its banana-yellow legs.

Wandering Tattler

           By the tattler was another fun bird to see. Not a lifer, nor a county bird, not even a year tick, this bird is just plainly a beautiful species that I will always appreciate seeing: the Pelagic Cormorant. Humboldt County's smallest and most slender species of cormorant, it is also my favorite species of cormorant. From the striking red face, to the shimmering, iridescent sheen to its feathers, to the white ankles puffs they develop during the breeding season, these birds take the gold when it comes to cormorant beauty. I noticed upwards of 15 individuals during my entire time at the jetty, two of which were egregiously obliging, perching side-by-side at the perfect distance for digiscoping.

Pelagic Cormorants
(adult on top, juvenile below)

           As I turned around from admiring the cormorants, I was granted a gorgeous male Red-breasted Merganser flyover. Flashes of white, mixed in with some green and noticeable orange-red on its breast, this species and this sex is always a treat to see. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to snap a shot of it, due to my lack of a DSLR camera. 

          I finally reached the tip of the jetty, and began scoping the sea. Scores of Surf Scoters paddled nonchalantly along the water's surface, as Red-throated Loons either associated with them or flew over them, totally dismissing their presence. There was a surprising lack of activity out at sea, which was sort of a downer. As a matter of fact, the only real exciting finds out at sea were a pod of 3-4 Harbor Porpoises swimming around and a deceased Cackling Goose floating on the water's surface, presumably shot in the wing by a hunter, rendering it useless and the bird defenseless on the water's surface.

Dead Cackling Goose

           I didn't notice anything new or different on my way back to my bike, aside from a few Herring and California Gulls. All in all, this was a good morning! I got to see some great birds, I got to push myself and bike for a little over an hour nonstop, and got to get away from campus, something I hadn't done for a while due to my busy schedule lately. I'm also glad I was able to make it out because I was able to blog about this excursion, something I'm trying to get back into.

February 23rd, 2014: Birding Humboldt County with a Friend from Back Home

        Goodness, goodness! Has it seriously been 2 and a half months since my last post! Man, I've been slacking. Any who, let me make up for that by making this post a good one. On this fine Sunday, my mentor and birding companion from back home (the young birding phenom, Logan Kahle) was making his way up to Humboldt County for the day. Now you guys are certainly asking yourselves: "Why is this 16 year old driving all the way up to Humboldt County from San Francisco for just one day?" Seems ridiculous and borderline deranged. Well one thing you need to understand is that he is doing what is called a "Big Year", throughout the entire state of California. I assume some of you readers have heard of this birding event, whether from just plain birding knowledge, or from the recently released movie "The Big Year", starring comedic legends Steve Martin, Jack Black and Owen Wilson. But for those of you who aren't aware of what this is, a Big Year is when a birder spends an entire calendar year traveling all around a given area (a county, a state, or even country!) to spot the most species of birds as possible. Having been an intensive California birder for the past 8 years, Logan decided it was fine time for him to truly test his knowledge on bird identification and localization by dedicating 2014 to staying within California and to traveling to all corners of the Golden State in search for all the species he could potentially see. He's already at remarkable 240 or so species, which is decent given he's only 2 months in!

        So anyways, this still doesn't answer as to what Logan was doing leaving SF at 3:00 AM to get up to Humboldt County. Lately, Humboldt County has been graced with many remarkable vagrants, notably a few that came in the form of raptors. A Gyrfalcon, the world's largest species of falcon, which is regularly found around the Arctic Circle, was sighted near Ferndale, a Long-eared Owl (not a California rarity, but a rare bird for Humboldt County, especially for this time of year) was sighted on the V St. Loop, and last, but most certainly not least, a Black Vulture was sighted in the Ferndale Bottoms, which wound up being only Humboldt's third ever record of one, and the first one in over a decade! With all these tantalizing year ticks, Logan couldn't pass up the opportunity to make a day trip up to our fine redwood-clad, northwestern county. Given the direness of the situation, he first stopped at the Gyrfalcon location before picking me up, because he tried for it the past month to no avail, which rendered him quite irritable and nearly irate as I remembered. Fortunately for him, luck was on his side, and the Peregrine Falcon he was observing in his scope was shortly after disturbed by the large, white falcon he sought after. After a successful hunt, he called me letting me know he was going to pick me up so we could spend the day together. Although, before chasing any of the wayward raptors, he wanted to go on a grouse hunt. The species he was after, Ruffed Grouse, is only found in three California counties (Del Norte, Trinity, and of course Humboldt). Given that he was already up here, he wanted me to bring him to a spot I was told about that where RUGRs were supposedly a given (and I had gone down this road a week before where I found my lifer with Rob Fowler, local birding expert, so I knew this place was promising). Unfortunately, we were unable to stir up this game bird, so Logan dipped on this potential lifer.
         Our next stop was to chase the Long-eared Owl on the V St. Loop that had been roosting in and frequenting the Sitka Spruces near the Mad River Slough. It had been very reliable, and many people had been able to get inspiring looks and photos of it. This species would have been a lifer for me, so I really wanted this bird to make an appearance. We decided to split up to cover more ground (we were on a tight schedule after all), and if either of us got it, we'd whistle to not frighten the Strigiforme. Sure enough, shortly after splitting up, I hear Logan call my name (the whistling tactic must have just gone right over his head). I come over, and there was the bird, perched and slightly obscured by the branches, but nonetheless stunning. The bird sat there, apparently oblivious to our presence, or so we thought, as it flew off after a few minutes of having it in the scope and snapping a few shots of it. We felt bad about flushing it, because it adds unnecessary stress to the bird's life, and there are too many tales of obsessive photographers flushing these beautiful owls into the clutches of the larger and more predatory Red-tailed Hawks. Fortunately, this one didn't get snagged by a hawk, and so we decided to make a move out of the premises before we caused it anymore stress.

Long-eared Owl

          Success! Logan had gotten another year tick, and I had gotten a lifer! We felt like kings, and decided to push our luck and chase a few more birds. A Loggerhead Shrike had been hanging around Quinn Rd. in the Loleta Bottoms since late October, and I had never made it out to see it, and seeing how it's a difficult species to find in the county, we decided to give it a go. And sure enough, after 10 minutes of scanning the tops of blackberry brambles, Logan spots the "butcherbird" atop a bush. Another county tick for myself!

           Now came the moment of truth, to find the Black Vulture. Typically found in the southern and eastern states, this bird is lost! So it was essential for Logan to see this bird, for it would make quite an addition to his year list, and not to mention the sheer thrill of seeing such a species so far from its regular range. We arrived at the location in the Ferndale Bottoms, and we began scanning the skies above, searching for Turkey Vulture kettles where it could potentially be associating itself with. As we scanned, I spotted a distant Bald Eagle, a Peregrine Falcon and Logan nailed a gorgeous Ferruginous Hawk fly right above us! But no vulture (of the Black sorts that is, Turkey Vultures galore at this location). We had dedicated a good hour and a half of scanning before we began getting bored of the seeing the same fields and birds around us. I then remembered that a Sandhill Crane had been hanging around one of the fields in the Ferndale Bottoms, and was sighted just the day before. So we decided to go for that bird, which would also have been a good county tick for myself (Logan already had that for the year). As we drove down the road, I immediately spotted it foraging surprisingly close to the road. We got out of the car and snapped a few shots of this crane. This was certainly my closest encounter with this species. My past experiences were either of distant birds congregated in the center of a large field, or of scores of them flying and bugling above me. This bird was a mere 20 feet away, and was quite obliging. As a matter of fact, the bird was so close, I had trouble getting the entire bird in the frame!

Sandhill Crane

          Having found this bird, we figured our luck was still with us, so we returned to the vulture location for Round 2 of the Black Vulture search. We spent another 45 minutes at this location, but the bird never made an appearance, crushing Logan's morale. The bird actually hasn't been recorded since we were there and when I wrote this post, so maybe it finally realized how lost it was and decided to head back home.

          In spite of this dip, Logan and I had a great time chasing some good birds, and spending time together and catching up, since we hadn't seen each other since winter break. He got himself a few county ticks, year ticks and even one lifer! (Gyrfalcon). So all in all, his trip was fruitful. And if that weren't enough, he got to bird with a friend from home, away from home, which is always great! Logan still has 10 months of rarity-chasing and California-traveling to go, and he's already off to a good start. I don't think this will be the last time I see in Humboldt County this year, so I will see you soon good friend. Good luck and good birding!

December 13th & 16th, 2013: Little Bunting and Ferruginous Hawk

          Having birded northern California rather thoroughly, it's exciting when I get some lifers up here, because they've become so much harder to come by. So when my buddy Logan Kahle texted me that a Little Bunting had been sighted in McKinleyville, 25 minutes away from Humboldt State University, I knew what my next lifer would be. The only problem was that I had class until 3 o'clock that day, so I had to impatiently wait until then to chase the mega-rarity.

         As much as it killed me, I finally finished all my classes, and with another birder friend of mine (another student at HSU named Stephen Montaro), we were off to chase the bird. I've learned that when chasing a bird, one should never expect to see it. As pessimistic as this sounds, too many times have I overconfidently chased a bird, and wound up incredibly disappointed when I didn't see it. If you chase the bird with low expectations, and you miss the bird, you're not disappointed because you anticipated that. However, if you go in with low expectations and you do end up seeing it, the excitement of finding the bird increases tenfold!

         So we biked all the way to the Hammond Bridge, the bridge that crosses the Mad River, which was where the bird was seen. The second we crossed the bridge, we saw a horde of people with binoculars and spotting scopes. Call it a hunch, but we figured they were birders. So we joined them, and I even saw a friend from back home, Michael Park, who was just in Humboldt County and only heard of the Little Bunting once he was in Santa Rose (4 hours south), and decided to drive back. We asked if they saw it and one man pointed to his scope, and so I looked through to find myself looking dead-on at, by far, the greatest vagrant I had ever seen. This was the Lower 48's fifth record, California's fourth record, and Humboldt County's very first record. It was an exceptional find made by Keith Slauson, a local birder/biologist that lives just up the road from where he found the bird.

         Once I was able to pinpoint exactly where the bird was on the field in front of us, I put my own scope on it and just marveled at the pert sparrow. Little Bunting belongs to the family Emberizidae, along with our local White-crowned Sparrows, for example. In their native range, they breed all throughout Siberia and northern Eurasia, with some breeding populations in Sweden and Norway. They spend their winter in more tropical climes such as southern China or northern India. Reminiscent of our local Savannah Sparrows, this species is identified by its prominent rusty-brown cheek, its white malar stripe, its vague supercilium (more noticeable in breeding plumage), its black stripe reaching behind its eye, its eye-ring, and its white outer tail feathers.

Humboldt County's first-ever
Little Bunting

Humboldt County's first-ever
Little Bunting

         The tiny little bird caused quite the ruckus. I know people from the Bay Area and from the Sacramento Area that drove up to see this bird. I also met people that flew from Washington state, Florida and even Massachusetts to see this bird!

        I saw this bird on the Friday before finals week, so I didn't get to bird a whole ton that weekend. However, all my finals were on Monday, so I got them all done with early in the week. To celebrate, I decided to scour the Arcata Bottoms for any possible vagrants. Unfortunately for me, the birding was pretty slow, and I didn't come across anything major. However, as I was heading back to the dorms, I noticed this large raptor perched atop a telephone pole. I put my binoculars up and saw this was a Ferruginous Hawk! This regal species was long overdue for me, so when I saw this white and orange raptor, I was elated! 

Ferruginous Hawk

       This large raptor is a winter visitor to Humboldt County and is partial to open fields where it can perch atop poles, which serve as perfect vantage points to scope out small mammals to feed on. It earns its name Ferruginous Hawk by its rusty-orangish back, which was absolutely stunning to look at it in the light given by the sunset. It eventually flew off after 20 minutes of looking at it, and I kept on staring at it in awe. It was just a splendid species to see.

      The Little Bunting and the Ferruginous Hawk were certainly the highlights of this past week's brief birding. One was a vagrant that attracted a wave of birders from around the country, and the other was a personal victory that I was happy to have seen. Now I can officially say that I am on winter break, and that I will bird the heck out of it!

November 25th, 2013: Bayside to Coast Side

          During Thanksgiving Break, I came back down to the Bay Area to spend my week with the family. But of course, I took advantage of this week off to go birding as much as I could. On this Monday, I decided to visit two of my favorite birding locations in San Mateo County: Radio Road Ponds and Pillar Point Harbor. Radio Road Ponds is in Redwood City, on the bayside of the county, whereas Pillar Point Harbor is located in the town of El Granada, two minutes north of Half Moon Bay, on the coast. I used to visit these two locations very frequently back when I lived in Pacifica, so I was excited to go back and reminisce about all the good times I had spent and all the good birds I had seen there in the past.

American White Pelicans

          Accompanied by my dad, we headed off to Radio Road Ponds in the morning, hoping to find some good birds. It's very hard to go to these ponds and not have a good time, in my experience anyways. The second we arrived, we heard the honking and whistling of myriad ducks, the higher pitched calls of avocets, stilts and dowitchers, and the chipping of a nearby "butterbutts". Upon scoping the water, I didn't notice any duck species that wouldn't normally be seen there. That wasn't going to be until my visit to Pillar Point Harbor (spoiler alert!). I directed my scope towards the islands where I immediately spotted the massive flock of even more massive American White Pelicans, a species regularly seen on these islands during the winter months. This species is one of two regularly occurring pelican species in North America, the other being the Brown Pelican. Not only do these two species look extremely different, but they behave very differently and they are found in different areas. The Brown Pelican can be commonly found on the coast, plunging into the water from impressive heights. The American White Pelicans contrarily is found more inland (the bayside for example) and feeds in groups by circling around a school of fish and dipping the bills in the water, trapping the fish in their pouches. 

            Nearby these white behemoths were 13 smaller, but more elongated, Black Skimmers, a curious-looking species of tern. When I first observed them through my scope, all their heads were tucked in their wings, but a flyover Red-tailed Hawk caught their attention, and their heads popped out, perfect for me to capture a quick shot.

Black Skimmer

          These grotesque-looking birds earn their name "skimmer" because of the way they feed. That goofy lower mandible, that gives this bird the appearance of having an underbite, is actually the tool it uses to capture fish. It flies right above the water's surface, bill open, with its lower mandible below the surface. Once the hypersensitive bill feels a fish, it snaps shut ridiculously quickly, trapping its quarry without any chance of escape. 

        The only other notable bird at this location was a heard-only, flyover American Pipit, that made its distinctive three-noted flight call, like a higher pitched American Goldfinch's "po-ta-to CHIP" call. Surprisingly this bird was a county lifer for me!

            This concluded our stint at Radio Road Ponds. My dad and I then drove along Highway-92, which connects the bayside and the coast, all the way to Half Moon Bay to go to Pillar Point Harbor. 

Brant

When we arrived, the first birds we noticed were a raft of various coastal duck species, such as Buffleheads, Surf Scoters and Common Goldeneyes. As we walked onto the beach, I was surprised by how few shorebirds there were. A Sanderling and a few Black-bellied Plovers were the only shorebirds present.  I then noticed two Brants, a handsome species of goose, adorned with a smart "necktie". These two obliging individuals were just asking to have their photo taken, so I ceded and granted them their wish.

          After photographing the geese and some nearby gulls, I decided to scope through the rafts of ducks in the harbor. The most abundant species was by far the colorful, but obnoxious looking Surf Scoter, the most common species of scoter in San Mateo County. 

Surf Scoter

          Suddenly, as I panned through the large flock, I noticed a lighter colored duck that looked different from the others. I knew exactly what it was. I had just found a Long-tailed Duck! Previously known as the "Oldsquaw", this species breeds high up in the arctic circle, and comes as far down as California to winter. Seeing one of these birds off the coast of San Mateo county isn't an irregular sight. It certainly is worth reporting, but it does occur regularly. However, finding this species inside of the harbor is a different story. Local experts informed me that in the past decade, this species has become increasingly difficult to find inside the harbor. They were once easier to find, but now it is extremely difficult. This bird was a county lifer for me, and just a great sight to see! I had only seen this species once before, up in Humboldt County off the North Spit.

Long-tailed Duck

         This concluded my morning of birding, where I began at Radio Road Ponds of the bayside of San Mateo County and finishing on the coast at Pillar Point Harbor. The Long-tailed Duck certainly was a splendid way to end the morning, but the up-close Brant, the stunning Black Skimmers and the astonishingly large American White Pelicans were just as wonderful to see.

November 3rd: Birding with friends from back home

         Earlier in the week, I received a phone call from my good friend Peter Metropulos, a birding legend of San Mateo County. He wanted to tell me that he was coming up to Humboldt County for birding with Francis Toldi, another good friend of mine, and wanted to know if I was available on that weekend to go birding at all. Although I had a Zoology midterm on that monday, I had been studying all that week strenuously, and I felt rather prepared, so a long, hard day of just birding was well-earned. So it was decided that they would pick me up at 7:00 AM outside my dorm on Sunday, November 3rd, and we would head up to Del Norte County for a jam-packed day of all-out birding.

         Once they picked me up and caught up after a few months of not seeing each other, we were off to our first stop, Point Saint George, a known location for sea watching in the county. Having my new scope and new camera, I felt prepared to find and identify every species, and snap a shot of any interesting species we would find. Once we got there, the first birds I noticed were a cluster of "rock-pipers", consisting of Surfbirds and Black Turnstones, two species restricted to the west coast of the North America. Unfortunately, my target species wasn't present within that cluster. This species is the Rock Sandpiper, a species that breeds further up north, and winters as far down as Humboldt County. Humboldt and Del Norte being the only counties in California where this species is regularly found, this species is one that I am especially after. Maybe next time. This sea watch was rather fruitful. We had several hundreds of Pacific Loons fly south in flocks numbering from 3 to 65. There were also large numbers of Surf Scoters and almost as many White-winged Scoters migrating south.

Female White-winged Scoter

            I was also able to pick up three distant Bonaparte's Gulls just beneath the horizon. I was able to identify them by noticing their small and daintier appearance than the nearby Western Gulls, and their all white outer primary feathers. Soon afterwards, I noticed two other small gulls, but this time with black outer primary feathers. These were juvenile Black-legged Kittiwakes, a species that was a lifer for me exactly a week before. Although this species winters as far south as Southern California out at sea, they are much easier to see from shore in Northern California, which is why I hadn't seen one until so recently.

Juvenile plumaged Black-legged Kittiwakes

            The only other highlights from that sea watch were a flock of about ten Red-breasted Mergansers headed south and my first-of-season Mew Gulls. Because birding had started slowing down, we decided to leave and head to our next destination: Lake Earle. We stopped at the Lake Earle

boat ramp. Although not a particularly known spot, we nonetheless found some great birds. Beset by reeds, were heard the "barking" of Song Sparrows and the rattling of Marsh Wrens. Francis and I noticed a particularly small gull on an islet just off the end of the boat ramp. It was a Bonaparte's Gull offering much better views than the 3 we saw while on our sea watch.

Bonaparte's Gull

             As we observed the small larid, Peter called out "Swamp Sparrow!". Excited we both rushed to where he was and looked for it. After a little pishing, the juvenile Swamp Sparrow popped out and gave me the best view I've ever had of this species. Although this species is typically found on the east coast, they are regular vagrants to California. I actually remember finding one last year in Humboldt County at the Humboldt NWR. It was a pleasant find that certainly made this random spot a little more special. Aside from these two birds, this spot didn't yield all that many species, so we decided to leave and head to a road where we would search for a lingering mega-rarity. 

             A few years ago, a Crested Caracara, a species of falcon found from the southwest all the way down to South America, was sighted 15 minutes from Lake Earle in Del Norte County. It has persisted in this location ever since, it hasn't migrated back down south. Unfortunately, caracaras are scavengers which means that they'll fly far distances in search of food, meaning that there isn't a spot where this individual was for sure going to be seen; it could be several miles away. We searched for about an hour at a dairy farm, seemingly great habitat, but our search ended up unsuccessful. We took a break and headed to the Smith River and see if we could find any interesting waterfowl or any peculiar gulls. Much like the dairy farm, this spot didn't yield all that many species either. However, we did find a gorgeous male Common Merganser.

Common Merganser

            After returning to the dairy farm, and searching for the caracara once again to no avail, we decided it was time to head back to Humboldt County. As we were driving we realized it wasn't all that late, so I proposed we go down to the Ferndale Bottoms and search for some migrating hawks or shorebirds.

            We stopped at a quaint taquería in Crescent City for a late lunch, and made our way all the way down to Ferndale, which was about 1 hour south from Del Norte County. The day was ending slowly, the sun began to set, and once we arrived, the sound of Killdeer surrounded us. Suddenly, a huge flock took off and landed in a nearby field, so we pulled over in front of that field and began scoping through. As we did so, Peter pulled out a Pectoral Sandpiper! A species that is starting to get a little late given the date. Then I pulled out two more, which made for a total of three! Not bad at all!

Pectoral Sandpiper

         Suddenly, Peter called out "Pacific Golden-Plover!" I immediately asked where he was seeing this bird, for this would have been an ABA bird for me (I had seen them on Kaua'i before, which isn't within ABA boundaries). He directed me to it and I then saw this thin, slender-billed and golden-colored plover. 

Pacific Golden-Plover

          This plover was the last highlight of the day, and made for a great way to end it. Birding with friends from home in my new hometown was really fun. It also made me realize how much I missed home, and made me even more excited to head back for Thanksgiving break. The highlights of the day were certainly the Swamp Sparrow, the Pectoral Sandpipers and the Pacific Golden-Plover. Birding is always fun, but it's birding with your close friends that make it a really special experience.

October 11th, 2013: Birding with my New Scope

            This summer, while moving my spotting scope from the backseat to the trunk, the eye-piece fell off without me knowing. Without an eye-piece, a scope is futile. So I have been birding "scopelessly" for 3 months. However, having accumulated an impressive amount of tip money as a busboy, I was finally able to purchase myself a new scope, a Swarovski HD-ATS 65mm (high-end stuff!). When I got an email saying I had a new package waiting for me in the mailroom, I got extremely excited! I knew exactly what awaited me, and that my weekend would consist in playing around with my new toy (in spite of my extensive homework).

            The first place I wanted to go birding with my spotting scope was the Arcata Marsh and Wildlife Sanctuary. Only 5 minutes to bike there from Humboldt State University, it's extremely accessible and incredibly birdy. Right when my Zoology teacher excused the class, I ran to my dorm, dropped off my backpack and took my birding optics and biked off. The sun was out and the birds were singing. Red-winged Blackbirds hopped around in the reeds, and a Belted Kingfisher flew by, making its machine-gun-like rattling. Seeing and listening to all of this commotion really got me excited to put my scope to the test and see how effective it was. I came across this pond with a myriad of duck species. I was hearing Green-winged Teals peeping and Gadwalls quacking before I even got off my bike and looked through my binoculars. But before I did that, I set my scope onto the tripod. Once it was set, I looked through and my heart skipped a beat. The absolute clarity and sharpness was mind-blowing. The foraging anatids were crystal clear, and every single one of their features was noticeable. As I panned through the large duck flock, I came across a curious-looking wigeon. It was overall rufous, but had hints of green behind the eye. I would've called it a Eurasian Wigeon, but it just didn't look right. I realized later that it was in fact a hybrid American X Eurasian Wigeon, an annual migrant here in Humboldt, notably the marsh.

American X Eurasian Wigeon

           This was an unexpected find, but an interesting one at that. I then made my way to Klopp Lake, the largest pond in the marsh, along the edge of the bay. The two first birds that I noticed were two Surf Scoters. Typically sea birds, they only rarely part from salt water outside of the breeding season. So it was cool to these two fella's paddling and diving in this freshwater pond. On the island were countless numbers of Willets, Marbled Godwits and Long-billed Dowitchers congregating. Greater Yellowlegs made their 3-toned calls as they flew over and a Great Blue Heron grotesquely squawked when it landed on one of the islands, sending the bevy of shorebirds airborne. My first of fall Eared and Horned Grebes socialized with one another, and single female Hooded Merganser dove in the water, certainly pursuing some small fish or crustaceans. I then noticed on an electric tower a magnificent Red-shouldered Hawk. I couldn't pass up this opportunity, so I put my scope on it and began digiscoping, my new craze.

Red-shouldered Hawk

         I then made my way to the George Allen marsh, where the first birds I noticed were a group of 6 Wood Ducks, 3 males and 3 females. 

Drake and Hen Wood Duck

        Aside from these stunning ducks, there wasn't much else. The sun was starting to set, so I retrieved my bike and began riding back to school. As I was heading back, I noticed something on the peripheral of my right eye. I stood out, but quite subtly. I put my bins on it, and to my excitement, there was an American Bittern standing perfectly still, scanning the water in front of it for possible prey. I was so excited to get this bird in the scope. Bitterns are personal favorites of mine, and this was just the third time I had ever seen this species. It didn't move, so it offered outstanding views through the scope.

American Bittern

         All in all, the birding this day wasn't quite out of the ordinary. It was just another regular day at the marsh (which is always a good time!). However, this was the first time I used my scope, so it made this day that much more special. The views I earned of regular species really did make this experience an exciting one. I now cannot wait for the next time I go out birding and get to use my scope once again. 

My new Swarovski ATS-HD 65 mm!

September 14th, 2013: Never Give Up!

                   One of the many trials of birding is the patience needed to look for a bird. Sometimes you'll be birding at your local patch, and it will be so slow that you won't even be hearing any Black-capped Chickadees. Or you'll be chasing a vagrant for hours and you'll leave without even the slightest glimpse of the sought-after bird. My story here will be talking about the latter. Rather than going through my entire day and listing all the species I saw, I'm going to talk about a brief part of my day of birding. This anecdote will talk about our chase of a staked out Stilt Sandpiper on Port Kenyon Road, in Ferndale, an annual, but scarce, species in Humboldt county.

                  After having participated in Rob Fowler's monthly survey of Shay Park, where we were able to relocate an Ash-throated Flycatcher and a Vesper Sparrow, the former being a good bird for the patch, and the latter being a good bird for the county, Samantha Bacon, an enthusiastic beginner birder, a buddy of mine, Stephen Montano, that also attends Humboldt State University, and I decided we wanted to chase the staked out Stilt Sandpiper. This bird would have been a state lifer for me, and an all-around lifer for my two cronies. Rob and two other birders that participated in the survey decided to join. The more the merrier! We drove down from the town of Arcata to Ferndale, approximately a 30-minute drive. We finally arrived, and made our way to the edge of the slough where the bird had been sighted. There was a remarkable amount of shorebird activity, from the typical peep species, to both species of yellowlegs and the ubiquitous Killdeer. Unfortunately, our dowitcher-emulating species eluded us. We decided to walk down the bank, where every step was a gamble, as the mud rendered the terrain near-impossible to walk on without slipping and either falling on your posterior or falling into the murky water. The best bird that our endeavor yielded was a single Wilson's Snipe, a county lifer for me. But we hadn't driven 30 minutes and risked ruining our optics by falling into the repulsive water to see a snipe. We wanted the Stilt Sandpiper. We spent a good hour and a half walking up and down the bank without sighting our bird. Being realistic, we decided to call it quits and head out.

                    Before returning to Arcata, Rob wanted to stop at a known shorebirding location and see what there was to see. A tad more productive, we came across a Common Murre and a bevy of shorebirds, including my county Snowy Plover. Satisfied with our finds, we finally thought it was time to head on out. Rob's gray 4x4 led the path and we slowly followed it, our excitement and enthusiasm we had prior to our arrival virtually gone. However, as Rob's car made a left at a T-Intersection, Samantha turned right. Puzzled as to why she did that, I asked her what she doing. She then said that she was determined to find the bird, for she was extremely looking forward to this sighting. So we were heading back to the end of Port Kenyon Road, back to the same slough. I unenthusiastically exited the vehicle, because all this place reminded me of was the failed attempt at seeing a fantastic species. I peered through my binoculars at the end of the bank and noticed a cluster of yellowlegs, both Greater and Lesser, but I don't notice anything else. This is when Samantha asked me what she was looking at (she knew it wasn't a regular bird). All of a sudden, my excitement grew ten-fold. I looked through the scope and there it was: our Stilt Sandpiper! It was preening itself, but the longer, decurved bill, and the broad supercilium were still quite evident. It was actually in the middle of the group of yellowlegs I was looking at with my binoculars. We slowly approached the bird, which it didn't seem to notice, and we began digiscoping it. Right afterwards, Rob called me asking where he had gone, and I informed him about the bird. He was back in less than five minutes. We all earned incomparable views as it mingled with the adjacent yellowlegs.

                  This little anecdote just goes to show that patience and persistence are the traits that are needed when birding. Haste and impatience are key to avoid seeing any species. If I had gone chasing that bird on my own, not only would I have missed it the first time, but I wouldn't have bothered returning and trying for it a second time. So thank you Samantha Bacon for your optimism and unwillingness to give up! It earned us a great bird, a great time, and a great life lesson.

Stilt Sandpiper
(notice the long, decurved bill,
and the broad suprcilium)