After an extensive hiatus, I finally went on a birding excursion worthy enough of being written about. So after a 3-month break, here I am writing once again. Anyways, on this Sunday, of March 24th, I was picked up by Dominik Mosur (an incredible San Francisco birder that I interviewed for a video I made about the threatened
California Clapper Rail last year) at 6:15 AM, and we drove towards another birder's house. We were driving towards Peter J. Metropulos's abode in San Mateo. Peter is a long-time Bay Area birder whose passion for the avian kind developed as kid, when a
Dark-eyed Junco piqued his curiosity and incited him to find out what it was. After birding the San Francisco Bay Area for about 40 years now, and having traveled around much of the world, he's attained an unsurpassable knowledge of birds, one that I am striving to attain once I reach his age. Anyways, we arrived at Peter's house, where we traded Dominik's blue pickup truck for Peter's slightly larger green pickup. The three of us then squeezed into the truck, and our adventure for Merced County began!
Merced County is situated southeast of the Bay Area. The county begins in the foothills that encircle the Central Valley, but the foothills then disappear and make room for the valley floor, where agricultural practices thrive and good birding abounds!
After having driven for an estimated 2 hours, I was both drowsy and excited once we arrived at our first stop. We had arrived at Dinosaur Point Rd., with the characteristic oak woodlands of the foothills. We stepped out of the car, and walked towards the edge of the road that overlooked the woodland, and listened. Birds were calling from everywhere.
Acorn Woodpeckers rowdily made their "WAKE-up" calls, a distant
California Quail reminded us what the biggest city in Illinois is: "Chi-CA-go!", and
Western Scrub-Jays, with their raspy voices, bickered: "Rhaaa-Rhaaa-Rhaaa". Unfortunately, this onomatopoeic description does not do justice to the absolute brilliance of the morning chorus. One of the advantages of getting up early is being able to hear all the different melodies and songs of the various birds. After having well-listened for about a quarter of an hour, we continued down the road, and arrived at an overlook, that gave us a panoramic view of the San Luis Reservoir, a man-made body of water that proved to attract numerous species. Unfortunately, not very many species were seen here at this specific location (we made several stops around this reservoir, which yielded many more species, that I'll elaborate about later on).
American Coots were by far the most abundant species, followed by the almost as bountiful
Eared Grebes. These Podicipediformes are quite common in the Bay Area during the winter months. However, as they are only winter visitors, we scarcely get to witness them adorned in their spectacular breeding plumage. There is however a slight overlap, where we get to see these grebes molting into their breeding plumage, before they migrate inland to breed. Fortunately for us, several of the grebes that were swimming and diving wore their fancy breeding feathers, or were at least developping these feathers. They boasted yellowish tufts (hence the name "
Eared"
Grebe), a black neck (hence its European name "
Black-necked Grebe"), and ruddy sides. As we observed these grebes, Peter enlightened us with some interesting facts about these birds. First of all,
Eared Grebes are the most salt-tolerant species in North America, which makes sense, seeing how the Salton Sea, which has a remarkably high salt content, is a massive wintering ground for these birds. Another interesting fact is that
Eared Grebes are some of the few birds that have to lose weight before beginning migration. Usually, birds put on weight to increase their fat, so they may undergo their long and arduous migration. However,
Eared Grebes aren't reputed for being formidable flyers, even without the thick layers of fat, so you can just imagine how much their flight is hindered during winter, when they've fattened themselves up, like plump Cornish Game Hens.
Although this stop didn't yield a massive amount of species, it was undoubtedly one of the most educational of the day. We then hopped back into the pickup, and drove to our next stop: Basalt Road and Campground, still bordering the enormous San Luis Reservoir. Because this area was further in Merced County, toward the valley floor, the temperature rose dramatically. The sun wasn't blocked by any clouds, and it pounded on us like a woodpecker does when excavating a nesting cavity. Our first stop on Basalt Road was at Fisherman Point. Though this point is merely a simple cul-de-sac, it offered wonderful views of
Rock Wrens that hopped around and chased each other on the rocks separating the road from the water. This was the first time I had seen this species in California. The previous time was in Arizona, during Camp Chiricahua, at Molino Basin. To our content, we rediscovered 5 lingering
Brown Pelicans, that are hard to come by so far inland. Many different duck species swam in the water including
Lesser Scaups,
Ruddy Ducks, and several
Northern Shovelers.
After scanning the reservoir from this point, we decided to drive to the Basalt Campground. On our drive, Peter stopped the car, and showed us a flock of
Tricolored Blackbirds, only a couple feet from the road. This is a species typical of the California Central Valley. Although there are breeding populations in Oregon, Washington and even Baja California, their stronghold is definitely California, where over 90% of the global population breeds. These birds were remarkably close to the vehicle which offered both a great opportunity for studying and for photographing.
This species appears very similar to its close relative, the
Red-winged Blackbird, which is found throughout most of North America. The best ways to tell them apart are by voice and by the color of the epaulettes. There is a slight difference between the two calls, however the color of the epaulettes is more reliable in my opinion.
Red-winged Blackbird have red and yellow epaulettes, whereas the
Tricolored Blackbirds have red and white epaulettes, a surprisingly noticeable difference.
After having observed these icterids from such proximity, we continued driving towards the campground. Several
Northern Harriers flew over the fields, searching for some oblivious targets to snatch. Once we arrived at the campground, the sounds of myriad birds singing surrounded us. It was truly incredible, having so many notes and melodies all being belted out at once. All was in harmony, and the only noises that didn't fit in were those of the campers walking around. Immediately as we stepped out of the car, I looked up and saw a dark raptor soar. This raptor was a dark-morph
Swainson's Hawk, identified thanks to its characteristic tail-band. This species of raptor undergoes an astounding migration, one of the greatest of any raptor.
Swainson's Hawks spend their spring and summers in the Midwest and Western America, where they breed and raise their chicks. Once fall arrives, they begin their 7,000 mile journey towards South America, where they winter in the Pampas of Argentina. The bird that we saw had just flown across the equator, from its wintering grounds, and was heading towards its breeding grounds, and it wasn't done yet. As we saw it, it began catching a thermal, which is a updraft of warm air that helps the bird almost effortlessly soar to higher altitudes (instead of flapping, which necessitates much energy). It was catching this thermal to continue its migration, where it might fly to Northern California in Siskiyou county, or even further. So this bird had just flown from an open field somewhere in western Argentina, an entire hemisphere away, and it wasn't even finished. Nature never ceases to amaze me. Anyways, the
Swainson's Hawk flew off into the distance and we began our birding in the Basalt Campground.
Western Kingbirds chattered atop branches, and squabbled as they chased each other around the air, making their white outer tails feathers quite noticeable.
 |
Western Kingbird
(notice the yellow belly, the white outer tail feathers
and the gray head & throat) |
We then began hearing this interesting song. As I don't have much experience with Merced County, let alone with the birds found there, I was of no help trying to discern who was singing this perplexing song. Dom and Peter decided that it was most likely a
Lesser Goldfinch singing a little off. However, we noticed something fluttering in the branches, from where the song was coming from, so we tried to get looks at it through our binoculars. The thick foliage made a decent view of the bird near-impossible. However, our persistence paid off, for we discovered that this song didn't come from a
Lesser Goldfinch, but from its more range-restricted cousin, the
Lawrence's Goldfinch, a species that I have seen just once before in Southern California.
This species is a California specialty. Although it occurs in Arizona during the winter months, it is a resident throughout much of central California, thus attracting many birders from all around to come to California and find this special Californian gem. We found a total of approximately 8 birds, including the less attractive females, which lack the black face and have less yellow on the chest.
However, the
Lawrence's Goldfinches weren't the only California specialties we found there at the campground. A surprisingly ubiquitous bird was a California endemic that all birders visiting California yearn for: the
Yellow-billed Magpie. No matter how many times one has seen this bird, one cannot deny the sheer magnificence and splendor that emanate from this corvid. I've seen
Yellow-billed Magpies many times before, and every time I am just as amazed as the last, if not even more! I don't know whether it's their characteristic yellow bill, or their iridescent blue on the wings and green on the tail. Perhaps it's the way communicate and interact with each other that mesmerizes me so. These birds have so many qualities that I could list, but instead here's a picture of one, so you may make your own judgement.
 |
Yellow-billed Magpie
(notice the long iridescent tail, the iridescent wings,
the white greater coverts and belly,
and its black back & head) |
We also made a wonderful discovery while admiring the magpies. We found a large clump of branches in a eucalyptus tree, which indicated that it was a nest, and 2 magpies were flying and hopping around in the vicinity. This is a sign that this species is reproducing, and though this species isn't threatened or of any kind of concern, it's still nice to know that this species has a future here in the Central Valley.
 |
Male Bullock's Oriole
(notice the orange underbelly and cheeks,
and the black throat) |
Despite the seemingly endless bounty of enticing birds, our stop at this campground had to come to an end. So we decided to leave when the bird activity had slowed down. Our next stop was the Merced National Wildlife Refuge, a location I had visited earlier in the year with Peter. However, we did stop along the side of road several times to scan some ponds, in hopes of finding a rare duck or a rare shorebird. Although we didn't come up with any rarities, we did find birds that were lifers for me: 3
Redheads! These red-headed ducks (as its name suggests) are found throughout much of the United States, Canada & Mexico, however it is remarkably scarce along the California coast, which explains why this bird had eluded me until then. This bird ended up being my only lifer of the day. As we continued driving, we came across two
Belted Kingfishers perched on wires, scanning the waters for an unexpected fish, several
American Kestrels, America's smallest species of falcon, and a few
Loggerhead Shrikes, passerines worthy of being called a raptor for their gruesome habits of skewering their prey on thorns.
We had finally arrived at Merced NWR, where we immediately took out our scopes, and walked up the observation platform to see what there was to see. Behind a wall of reeds was a large flock of geese, composed of
Cackling,
Greater White-fronted and
Snow Geese. All three of these species were ready to begin their migration to the high arctic, where they shall breed in colonies of up to several thousands. However, as we scanned the large flock, Peter noticed 3 odd-looking birds. They had the bodies of
Greater White-fronted Geese, but with a white neck and head. Normally, we would call these birds leucistic (when the birds have oddly patched white feathers due to a lack of pigments), but there were 3 individuals with the same pattern. It would have been quite serendipitous to come across 3 birds that were identically pigment-deficient. We then decided to conclude that these were in fact
Greater White-fronted X
Snow Geese hybrids, all coming from the same brood, hence the identical patterning. These mystery birds were a great way to begin our visit to Merced NWR. Unfortunately, our excitement was quickly nullified by a sobering discovery. As we were scanning the ponds, we saw somebody on the side of the road,with a camera and a massive zoom looking up at a tree. We assumed that he must have found an interesting animal that he wanted to check out. We would've ignored it, except that he bent down and picked up a couple rocks which he began tossing up the tree. We immediately realized there must have a been a nest or something, and he wanted to coax, or should I say oust, the bird from that nest. This sort of behavior is incredibly unethical and extremely wrong. Nobody, whether a birder, photographer, or a simple passerby, should ever disturb a bird, let alone a nesting one.
We didn't let this low-life and rude individual ruin our day, so after we finished scanning the ponds, we got back into the car and began driving down the auto-tour road. We passed by where the rock-tosser was, and looked up in the trees to find a
Great Horned Owl, with its characteristic white throat, sitting on its nest, certainly alarmed by some of the pebbles thrown at it. Everybody loves owls and photographing them, which is in fact encouraged because of their undeniable elegance, but one should never disturb an owl, or any bird for that matter, for "the shot". We kept on driving, but stopped by a pond where there were myriad ducks and shorebirds. There were
Cinnamon Teals,
Green-winged Teals,
American Wigeons,
Northern Shovelers and
Northern Pintails. As for shorebirds, there were several
Black-bellied Plovers that flew over, a few
Greater Yellowlegs, and after scrutinizing, we pulled out a total of 4
Lesser Yellowlegs, much less common than their abundant cousins. These birds can distinguished from
Greater Yellowlegs by their smaller, straighter and darker bill, and coarser streaking on their chest.
We continued driving, passing by flocks of
Red-winged Blackbirds, singing
Marsh Wrens and
White-faced Ibis, which had molted into their shiny pink and chestnut breeding plumage. We made another stop, where there were many more shorebirds than previously. We estimated a total of 4,000
Long-billed Dowitchers, 1,500
Black-bellied Plovers over 2,000
Dunlin. And these numbers kept on increasing as more and more birds began flying in. Many of these birds had begun molting into their breeding plumages:
Long-billed Dowitchers became more rufescent and brighter, the
Black-bellied Plovers started getting their characteristic black bellies and throats, and finally the
Dunlin developped their black bellies and rufous backs. Quite the colorful shorebird mosaic! Unfortunately, many of these birds were rather distant, which made for mediocre views. Thank god for spotting scopes!
We parked at the end of the auto-tour road, and walked onto another observation deck, this time offering greater views of the large shorebird flock. However, because my scope of poor-quality didn't offer the spectacular views that Peter and Dom were enjoying, I decided to admire the
Yellow-rumped Warblers and the other passerines cavorting in the nearby willows. I then noticed a
Song Sparrow on the ground. The reason why I spent so much time looking at this bird was because it looked so different from the
Song Sparrows I normally see on the coast. This bird had a much richer rufous on its wings and its head than would a coastal
Song Sparrow, that I'm used to. After researching the various subsepcies of
Song Sparrow in California, I finally assigned this individual to the
heermanni subspecies, whose range extends throughout much of the Central Valley and California Central Coast.
After leaving the observation deck, we decided to leave the car alone for a bit, and walked around the Bittern Marsh Trail (whose name its quite deceiving, as we didn't see or hear a single bittern, of either species). There were many
Red-winged Blackbirds,
White-crowned Sparrows and
Golden-crowned Sparrows in the reeds. We then noticed a kettle of raptors flying in a circular motion, catching a thermal (like I pointed out earlier). This kettle was composed of several
Swainson's Hawks of different phases, and a single
Peregrine Falcon.
 |
Peregrine Falcon
(notice the barring on the underbelly and wings,
and the moustachial strip) |
 |
Light-morph Swainson's Hawk
(notice the the brown breast,
and the dark end wing feathers) |
This swirling cocktail of various raptor species amused us for a little while. We then continued walking down the trail, hoping to come across some exciting birds. We flushed several
Wilson's Snipe, Dom got a
Great Horned Owl, in his scope, sitting on reeds (an odd habitat for it), and we came across a large sparrow flock.
We hopped back into Peter's truck and left the valley floor. We drove back to the San Luis Reservoir, and stopped at O'Neill Forebay. This little beach was surrounded by these green fields that boasted many melodious
Western Meadowlarks, that sang their bubbly songs. But we came for the water birds. So we scoped the water in front of us, and found many waterbirds. There were many
Ruddy Ducks,
Greater Scaup, several
Common Goldeneyes, and several gull species. The only ones we positively identified were
Ring-billed,
Herring,
Bonaparte's Gulls, and a single
Western Gull, that has spent 5 consecutive winters at this reservoir. As we were about to leave this location, Peter makes a frightening realization: he left his camera at one of the observation decks! He frantically searched his truck, but to no avail. So as he called the Sacramento Wildlife Refuge headquarters, to warn people, I continued to bird. A distant bird caught my eye, and I walked toward it to find out what it was. As I got closer, I learned that this was a
Northern Mockingbird, a fairly common bird in the Central Valley, but always fun to see.
This concludes my day in Merced County. This is my second time really birding this county, and I really enjoyed myself. Birding with such knowledgeable birders such as Dominik Mosur and Peter Metropulos really helped me hone my skills and progress as a birder. The highlights of the day were definitely the 3 California specialties: the
Yellow-billed Magpies, the
Tricolored Blackbirds and of course the
Lawrence's Goldfinches. Although, the lifer
Redheads were also up there as my favorite of the day. Because Peter frequently does trips like this to Merced County, hopefully I'll rejoin him some time soon. Because of my tight school schedule, day-long birding trips like this become harder and harder to do. So whenever I have an entire day free, I take advantage of that and bird the hell out of it, just like I did that day!
