April 19th - Fairweather Birding Trip, Day Three

How'd you sleep?

The King of Ubiquity

Jeez, this night. . .Most of it was a poorly conceived attempt to find Barn Owls. I'd say that sums it up. I woke up at Leland Lake at some hour in the middle of the night. I had two places to investigate: Boulton Farms and Uncas Road. These two spots are actually not far from each other, as the crow (or what have you) flies. Both are locations where Barn Owls have been seen off and on for a good number of years. 

I'd been to Boulton Farms during the day, so I kind of knew where to go to look for them. I tried a few spots along the road, figuring that the birds might be hunting anywhere over the fields, and might give me a nice screech in the course of their hunting. 

I heard a pair of Barred Owls calling, slept, woke up, moved, listened, slept, and eventually hung it up. I looked things over and realized I *did* need gas, and that Chimacum wasn't all that far from me. So, I drove into Chimmie and gassed up, then turned back to 101. My destination was a road that starts and ends on 101 - Uncas Road. 

So. . . As a writer, I feel a vague responsibility to find a creative way to state: you can't see in the dark. But that's all I've got. 

And I feel like, even being able to see may not have been enough. I was looking for a barn, so that I could try to catch a Barn Owl swooping into it at twilight. But even in full light, truth be told, I may not have known which barn to investigate. The opportunities to sit on the side of the road, windows down, were not as good here. Narrow shoulders, and some tree-obscured stretches of field. 

In the end, I parked at the entrance to the wildlife area, near the north end of the road, and just slept there, listening. I woke up and gave the road one more drive, getting a completely different bird added to my year list as a California Quail scurried across the road. 129 for the year list! The goal for the year has been 200, and I had this vague notion that getitng to 2/3 of that going into May would be good progress. Almost there! I parked and thought of what birds I might find at daybreak and fell asleep one more time. 

Uncas Road

Daylight! I woke up for good, and had my bagel and banana, then started walking the trail. Outside of the endless parade of robins and white-crowned sparrows, I picked up some good ones on this walk. Nearly the first bird out of the car was a very skulky Chipping Sparrow (130). I could hear the call notes and got a couple views of it in my binoculars, but no singing, and no pictures. 

And then immediately after that... a bird song just like the one from the previous morning. At Dosewallips I was thrown off when I heard a singing Fox Sparrow. They just leave so soon after the singing season starts, I don't get to hear the song very often. And now another song was coming at me. I almost fell flat-footed, but I did realize what I was hearing. It was a song that I may have heard a handful of times... from birds. But I'd heard it many many times... from phones. Lincoln's Sparrow! Not a new one for the year, but still just a joy to get to hear one singing. 

Common Yellowthroats (131) were all over the place. I was not surprised to pick them up here. Marsh Wrens, similarly, were there in crazy numbers. 

The trail kind of ran into some forest (Varied Thrushes!), and then there was this: 

Golden-crowned Sparrow

I really do promise to do some dumb things this year in the name of birds. But I weighed the dumb, and weighed the birds, and decided not to cross. Between the binoculars, the camera, and the extra lens tucked in a pocket, I just didn't want to put anything at risk. 

Headed back towards the car, I added one more year bird - Cassin's Vireo (132). I took some care on this one, because Purple Finches (and House... and Cassin's) can do vireo-like calls. This stood out as a very clean Cassin's Vireo, calling from across the field. They had been seen in this general area at this time of year before, so they had been on my radar. 

Back up on the road, I gave it a little drive, pulling over a couple times. Savannah Sparrows were everywhere, and a Pileated Woodpecker (133) called from the hillside. I knew the day was off to a great start if I'd already hit the day goal of 133!  41 species at this stop. 

Gardiner Beach Road

I had stopped here earlier in April and found many of the same species. I was happy to see some grebes in breeding plumage: 

This image provided an interesting mix. I spent a little time squinting at it, trying to turn two grebe species (Red-necked at left, Horned at center and right) into three. The front grebe doesn't look any smaller than the horned at right, but its humpy back, maybe diamond shaped head, and other assists from poor lighting had me wondering if it was an Eared. It's not. :D

One new one! Northern Rough-winged Swallow (134)

Back to the Quimper Peninsula

I made only a brief stop at Anderson Lake, doing my due diligence in looking for Cinnamon Teals. Objectively speaking, there had to be exactly two of them somewhere in the county... somewhere... not at Anderson Lake. It was, however, fun to hear Virginia Rails calling, and then a Sora (!) let out the full whinny call. 

From here, I headed into Port Townsend for a late cup or five of coffee. 

I saw a seat with an outlet and got all plugged in. . . except for the part where I plugged in to the Internet. They had no public wifi, which was a little bit of a bummer, in this day and age (says the guy with a flip phone. . .). But it gave me a chance to pull photos off of the phone and camera, get some coffee, and to eat. . . a scooter!

It's just a breakfast burrito on steroids and topped with a nice cilantro sauce. 

In the absence of any Internet guidance, I looked at my list, and figured I should continue the hunt for a Cinnamon Teal! So, it was off to Kah Tai Lagoon. 

The art installment (a fine reason to visit the trail!) had changed for the season. I pretended to listen to birds as I walked along enjoying the art and read the poetry. It wasn't too too ducky on the water, but I did get one new year bird nonetheless! Not singing but smacking a tree. 

Downy Woodpecker! 135 for the year. 

And here, I started to wonder. Did I have anything else to really look for? I felt like my hopes of House Wren and Western Bluebird had been left back in the foothills of the Olympics, I hadn't had a chance to pull up eBird to see what there might be to chase. I just had a couple more stops to make to look for Cinnamon Teal, and then it was time to sail on, silvergirl. 

Returning to the trail and swinging from branch to branch in my decision trees, I started in the direction of the car. And there I stood, binoculars and camera dangling around my neck and shoulders - my scope and tripod slung over my shoulder. Walking towards me in the other direction was a fellow with binoculars and camera dangling around his neck and shoulders - his scope and tripod slung over his shoulder. 

I looked up at his hat: 

And asked the obvious question. 

"Looking for deer?" (This is a Port Townsend joke. iykyk.)

KC and I had our introductions. He explained that he was out on a trip getting some birding in, working towards a life goal of seeing 100 or more species in every county in the state. 

!!

So, I had a second wind of sorts. He had just arrived, so I let him finish a look at Kah Tai Lagoon, and we planned to meet at Oak Bay County Park. 

Folks. . . I do a pretty good job of getting pictures if I'm birding solo, but out with others, I tend to get chattering, and I forget. 

It was, needless to say, a fun bit of birding. One picks up more birds and learns more things with others. One stop landed me a couple more birds - House Wren (136) and Cooper's Hawk (137) at the Morningtide site along Schwarz Road (Marrowstone Island).

East Beach was a good stop once more, with more Whimbrels, Marbled Godwit, and a Pacific Loon in the distance. 

KC and I parted ways, and I made one more stop on the way home. I hit Short Farm on Center Road, hoping to turn up a Cinnamon Teal. I gave the ducks a good look, I thought, and couldn't turn one up. At least I'd given it a good try, so I couldn't feel bad about missing them. 

Until I got home. . . and learned that Cinnamon Teal had been seen right before I got there. And again, after I left. At Short Farm. 

:)

This. . . suits my sense of humor just fine. And honestly, at 137, I was feeling like I was on a good track for the goal of two hundred birds by years end. 

April 18th - Fairweather Birding Trip, Day Two

 

Dosewallips State Park

I slept fairly well in my tent at Dosewallips State Park. I woke to the sound of birds, and I smiled. On some trips, I feel like there are birds where I really should have listened to recordings in advance. It wasn't a long listen, but before I left, I pulled up recordings of two birds. For the life of me. . . I can't remember what the first one was. The other is the one that I heard at oh dark thirty, passing over me. Greater White-fronted Goose! (species 122 for the year in Jefferson County).

I love these geese. For many years, they were winter residents around Gene Coulon Park in Renton, before I realized fully how special that was. They still show up there occasionally, but I generally expect that I'll see them each year during spring or fall migration. And in the spring - this is the time! As I tried to figure out where to look for them, there seemed to be one location that came up time and time again: Up. 

Flyovers here, flyovers there. Not much in the way of reports of birds just sitting around on the ground. So, I made sure to refresh myself on the calls, and heard them over Dosewallips that morning. And then the robins. So many American Robins. Or five of them going bazonkers. Much robin noise. I also heard Varied Thrush, Purple Finch, Ruby-crowned and Golden-crowned Kinglets, Northern Flicker, and White-crowned Sparrows. I'm having a laugh as I type this a week later at 8 PM in Renton, and there is a White-crowned Sparrow outside singing his heart out. They put in the hours. 

I got water boiling pretty quickly for coffee and oatmeal. And I realized that the coffee was decaf. My eyes widened in terror, and I considered my options. I sipped the lifeless brown liquid, wondering if you can actually experience a placebo effect if you know you're not getting the real thing. I brew up a pot in the mornings and slowly make my way through it as I work. Might be a headachy day if I didn't address things eventually. 

But the birds were singing, so I started a walk out the entrance road, to the other side of the freeway and back. I had to stop at one point, because I heard a song that I simply couldn't place. It didn't sound completely unfamiliar, but the song coming from under some brush was not one I'd heard often. 

Fox Sparrow! Not a new bird for the year, but one that I don't hear singing every year.

As I got to the entrance, I picked up Black-throated Gray Warbler (123) and Yellow-rumped Warbler singing. I crossed to the other side of the freeway to try to get some water views.

 

Gulls... more just... gulls of unknown origin, some Canada Geese, and a Greater Yellowlegs playing in the tide. 

On the way back, I added one more year bird, a singing Townsend's Warbler (124). 

Forget-me-nots

I had run up a good list of birds for the morning, but I had a couple stops I needed to make along the Hood Canal corridor. I packed up my tent and hit the road. 

Seamount Estates

Back in 2015, I did a big year in Mason County. Same basic format as all of the years since (minus those years when the world was busy exploding - you can place at least some of those years, dear reader). On one of those Mason County trips, I was a co-leader on a "blanket trip" - a weird little twist on a typical field trip day. 

For a blanket trip, you get like... 3 or 4 cars loaded up in the morning at some central-ish parking lot in a county. Everyone says hello, goodbye, good luck - then the cars head off in different directions for the morning. After 3-4 hours of hunting for amazing birds, they return around lunch time. Everyone is now able to share details and has plenty of time to go chase any good birds that other groups found, take a nap, go home, whatever floats their proverbial boats. 

Image taken from an October post in my Mason County blog 

Nobody could get to all of those places in a single October day, but if a Harris's Sparrow, or some mega-rarity like an American Coot was out there in the county, at least one of the teams might have a good chance of finding it!

ebird Mountain Quail sightings
for Jefferson County

My "team" had the blue tracks on the map, and you can see that they extended up into Jefferson County. Our target? Mountain Quail! Back in those years, a small population of Mountain Quail had wandered their way up across the county line and had been seen at some feeders in Seamount Estates. I had done some homework in advance of this year's trip, and it seems that they have not been seen in many years - likely falling prey to coyotes, cats, and the like. 

But it's the kind of year where one looks. You can't spell gumption without umpti! I. . . don't know what that means, but it *sounds* right. So, I drove south to Seamount Estates, almost to the Jefferson border. I took the road up to a powerline cut, pulled off, walked and listened. 

Purple Finches and Orange-crowned Warblers were the first birds I picked up, then Violet-green Swallows and of course a few token White-crowned Sparrows! The one addition I got for the year was a booming Sooty Grouse (125). I'd had some plans to follow some forest roads this morning, and this made that unnecessary. Once it seemed like I'd heard and seen what I was going to see and hear, I returned to the 101 and made for Triton Cove State Park. 

Triton Cove

Amazing picnic spot tucked away at Triton Cove

Common Loons, Harlequin Ducks, and your basic five sparrow species were here to meet me. I also found my first-of-year Osprey (126) for Jefferson County. 

River Otter - Hood Canal

I also stopped off at a spot a little bit farther north on the canal. I found a sign proclaiming that clam season had closed. This made me sad. However, the same sign informed me that oyster season was open. 

!!!

Oysters

Osprey

I have intended to get a shellfish license and do some clam-digging earlier in the year, but just haven't gotten around to it. The idea of pulling oysters right out of Hood Canal is beyond tempting. It was interesting to read the regulations, including limits as well as a procedural point: Any oysters harvested have to be shucked right there on the beach so that the shells can be returned to the water and used for future seeding. This makes all kinds of sense - just something that I had not really thought of. Time to pull out that oyster knife!

Hood Canal oysters are pretty amazing. The Hama Hama Oyster Saloon is right across the county line in Mason County. It's such a great stop, with amazing oysters (raw and grilled) and a beautiful setting. I couldn't in good conscience slip down there this year. I have to remain faithful to my county of affection - Jefferson, and my side-county, Kitsap! 

Fortunately, as I continued up the road, I stopped in at the Halfway House Restaurant in Brinnon. I'd only planned to stop in for coffee, but I took a peek at the menu... which included the Hama Hama Omelet, which included pan-fried Hood Canal oysters. Yes. Yes please. It was perfect. 

Very nice stop, and the folks working there seemed genuinely happy. My waitress chatted up some of the locals and stated just that - she really enjoyed working there. Another guy at the bar seating sat and worked on some poetry in a beautiful cloth-covered notebook. 

And I had oysters. And thank every god there is, I had enough coffee to get me through the day. 

Are you looking for Orcas?

This query was from one of the two women who pulled up quickly in front of my car near the Yelvik general store, looking out at Right Smart Cove. There's a little pulloff that gives a nice view of the cove, and right into Hood Canal. 

"Should I be. . .?" I asked. 

They explained that they were part of an orca-watching group on Facebook. Apparently, a pod of orcas had been sighted on Hood Canal, and was heading in this general direction. I scanned the water, finding a loon, more mutt gulls, and a pair of Red-breasted Mergansers, but nothing whalish. They stayed for quite a while, and I overheard them mentioning "seals" and "porpoises". I got some help in finding the spots they were viewing. 

Harbor Porpoise? I think so. 

It was fun to have a little diversion like this. Comically, I began by firing some rapid pictures in the direction they'd noted, and I ended up getting pictures of the porpoise in my preview screen. These pictures disappeared just as I started to celebrate - replace by a note that I had no memory card. It was still in my laptop from my stop at Halfway House! But as shown above, it was repeatable! Just... very distant pics, so they're blurred to all heck. still enough to get a sense for the shape - not a super pointy fin, and Harbor Porpoises are one of the more common sightings. 

Spencer Creek Road

This was one of my favorite finds of the trip. I had seen reports for bluebirds and solitaires, so I expected to find some nice clearcuts (I still think it's strange that I think of them as nice... but I do in a way). I found the turn off of 101, south of Mount Walker. 

Here's the checklist: eBird Checklist - 18 Apr 2024 - Spencer Creek Road - 22 species

I'll shut up and let the pictures do the talking.

No bluebirds, although some of the habitat looked encouraging, with big piles of rubbish, and good snags. But the mountains distracted me just fine. 

Mount Walker 

I could have stopped on the way up to the Mount Walker viewpoint to see if I could pick up Northern Pygmy Owl or Ruffed Grouse. I had hopes that there would be other visitors at the top, and that they might draw the attention of some Canada Jays. 

Band-tailed Pigeon crossing the road along the way to the top

I reached the top and drove to the north viewpoint. The views from the top of Mount Walker are absolutely stunning. Situated not far from the point where Hood Canal empties into the Salish Sea, it is just short of 3000 feet high. From the north viewpoint, you can see Mount Baker in one direction, and many peaks in the Olympics in the other. It was so amazing to see a couple of peaks in particular - Mount Townsend and Buckhorn Mountain. 

Mount Baker from the North Viewpoint

Mount Townsend (the broad slightly round peak, right of center)
- Green Mountain cutting across the front

Mount Constance - high peak left of center
Buckhorn Mountain - next peak over, right of center (Iron Mountain behind it)

In the late summer, I have plans to get to the top of Mount Townsend, and to continue on a twenty-mile backpacking trip swinging around Buckhorn Mountain. Most people know of the rainshadow that keeps the town of Sequim so dry and sunny. But this rainshadow extends up into the mountains, leaving some of the peaks in the Buckhorn Range drier as well. As a result, some of the tougher species in Jefferson (such as Pine Grosbeak and Clark's Nutcracker) more easily found. Seeing the peaks from this distance threw my eyes a little wide. But I do have more months ahead to get the body ready!

Finding no birds to speak of on this side, I started the little hike from the north to south viewpoints. As I walked, I did the little whistle to call for Northern Pygmy Owls and got a response! I looked up and immediately saw this: 

Typical.

I really wanted to see the bird. So, I tried walking a little farther until I had a nice visible treetop in between the owl and myself. I tried again to whistle, and the bird flew through the canopy - right past me and out of view to a new tree. I repeated this again... and then the third time was a charm. I could see the owl through a peek a boo break in the trees. Bringing my camera up... gosh I need to learn how to camera. The camera would focus on this branch, that branch, just failing to reach out to get the owl on the more distant tree in the center of the field of view.

Finally: 

Somehow the camera finally gave in. It's not a perfect shot, but I was still pretty happy. 127 for the year!

I continued, hearing the owl calling behind me, and eventually got to the south viewpoint. I saw a group of four, with one woman holding a pair of binoculars. I asked if she was looking for birds - she was not specifically, but I did share the excitement about the owl. The group took interest and asked what it sounded like. I gave a little demonstration whistle, and we started talking more about how I knew they might be up here, what they eat, etc. 

And then the owl came into view again! This was fun. Binoculars got passed around, and we did the normal, "No.. the next branch down. The white branch. The *really* white branch."

A couple of Canada Jays (128) came in to investigate. I'd likely end up seeing them later in the year, but any additional bird gets me closer to the goal of 200. 

As with the other viewpoint, the views were amazing. I especially enjoyed looking at Seattle: 

Quilcene Ranger Station

I had seen reports for some nice birds, such as Chipping Sparrow, from "behind the ranger station" on eBird. I pulled in and saw the sign "official vehicles only" on the road behind the station. I went inside and asked the ranger, and he clarified that there were quite a few trails back behind the station, and that I was free to walk them. 

This. This totally got me thinking Chipping Sparrow. It most reminds me of the area around Sanderson Airport, down in Mason County, where I had found Chippers. Slightly open habitat, edged by conifers. Little bits of scrubby weedy stuff in parts. Fences for perching. It was just a little late in the day, apparently, as most of the birds were done singing. 

Quilcene Bay and thereabouts

I still hoped to find a House Wren or Western Bluebird, and I knew there was a good patchwork of clearcuts, forest, and lakes in the area north and west of Quilcene. I first swung by Quilcene Bay, heading down Linger Longer Road to a nice overlook. . . a nice overlook . . . to nothing! The birds here were pretty thin. A distant gull. Certainly, there must have been a White-crowned Sparrow. It's been a week, but there was always one or two. 

I considered just leaving, but I was on Linger Longer Road. I didn't want to be accused after the fact of not following geographical instructions. So, I tipped the seat back, grabbed the pillow from the back seat, and took the most amazing nap. 

I woke up about 15 minutes later, doing my standard "OHMYGODIFELLASLEEPDRIVING" freakout. Once I recalibrated, I looked out at the water. Now there were two gulls. Time to go!

Side note: These signs upset me. 
First of all, it's rude to call out slow children like this.
And let's be honest. 10 mph is not even that slow. 
Keep running, kids.

Nothing super-interesting out in this area. Turkey Vultures soared overhead. More of the same sparrows. . I tried Sandy Shore Lake, Lake Tarboo, and added no species. At one point, I had a very light (grey?) colored raptor zip across a forest clearing. I didn't see anything telling me it wasn't an American Goshawk. . . but I didn't have enough telling me it wasn't a Red-tailed Hawk. Just too quick, as it zipped through the clearing for me to collect much more information. So, even though this felt strange for a red-tail, the bird went unidentified. 

"Call me" was quickly answered by my friend Kevin on this one. He ran me through some of the different ideas about tail shape, flight patterns, migration, size, field marks, etc. etc. There was a lot pointing in the direction of at least throwing the sighting out for review, but I decided not to in the end. 

Another text went out and came back with "Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence!"

This idea. Gosh, I typed out a few dozen different responses and erased them as I tried to capture all of my feelings on it. 

First of all. Heck yes. This standard, called the Sagan Standard after good old Cosmic Carl, is a good way to approach things. On this specific topic, goshawks... (dare I go here? :D). Let's say in the kind of hypothetical that I was making a claim that there are actually goshawks all over the place. A claim that is extraordinarily different from prevailing thoughts on goshawk distribution. Fine. Pictures? Video? If they are being identified by any visual cues at all, that would be a seemingly necessary (and seemingly easily obtainable?) bit of evidence. So, in the absence of that, there'd be no reason for prevailing thoughts to change. 

I do like the standard, and like seeing it applied in those situations where we are making a challenge about the existence and/or distribution of a bird in an area. eBird reviewers also need to apply it to individual sightings.

Three other things I'd like to see applied just as energetically: curiosity, communication, and a sense of humor about the fallibility of one's bird identification abilities.

I say this in part because the last time I had heard the Cosmic Carl Cwote was from a birder who had texted me about a pretty rare bird during one of my county trips. He later realized it had been an incorrect call on the bird. I had included a recounting of the sighting and subsequent correction - I thought it was simply a human look at how we try to DNA profile these living things that fly around, hide in the bushes, and sing for us. But he saw the post in the blog, and asked that it be changed, citing the Carl Sagan piece as part of his reasoning, and adding "I had hoped that my embarrassment would be limited to just a few people." 

As I type in these blogs, as you may have guessed, I am not really pausing here and there as I type. If things take on an unedited feel as you read, this is quite intentional. But here, I've actually been sitting for a few minutes just trying to get to ... my concerns here. 

It's a broader concern, I'm finding as I think about it more. In fact, I've given up on trying to state my positions here, but I'll ask you a few questions, dear reader: 

Do people make mistakes? 

To what extent is shame an important tool in keeping people from making mistakes?

Can people learn from them, and recover from isolated mistakes or even a pattern of mistakes? 

Have *you* seen any goshawks?

Putting up a goshawk report should have led to a discussion about goshawks, at any rate. That's what I'm getting at. Kevin - he simply has a healthy take on this that can lead to discussions. He has a broader take on these questions that make him a good friend, and a good person in the lives of people around him. I'm a better birder because of him, but that is just the tip of the iceberg. 

For gosh(awk) sakes, if you see a sighting that seems off - talk to the person about it. Get to the bottom of it. Right?

These kinds of ideas were keeping me busy as I continued the drive from the messy part of Jefferson County over to the town of Quilcene. I pulled into the parking lot at Quilbilly's, finished off the last of the flautas, which had kept fairly well in my cooler. Then I hopped in for a pint and some wifi. I spent some time reviewing physics passages, getting to the bottom of mistakes in them, and trying to help the writer improve on it. You think identifying raptors is a challenge, try cooking up physics passages, lol. I know this person, and that she'd put in all efforts to make sure it was right in the end. 

That should be one of our only goals today.

I got settled up and drove a short bit up the road to the Leland Lake Campground. I had pulled out quite a bit of cash for the trip, assuming I'd need it at campgrounds especially. But my cash was in tens, and this site (and... nearly every other site) seemed to eschew campground fees that are multiples of ten. Twenty? nope. Thirty? nope. Have to split the difference. Another camper was checking in, so I offered him a ten for two fives. He just gave me a five, despite all protests. 

There really are some good people out there. 

It was late, and I knew I wanted to do some hunting for Barn Owls at stupid hours in the night, so I just tilted the seat back again and slept in my vehicle. 

Apologies, folks for the digression away from birds for a bit there (if you saw it as a digression). It's just. . . if we're learning nothing about life as we go out and look at birds, what are we doing? I'll note that I fell asleep to Barred Owl calls. And promise there'll be lots of birds in the morning!

Only the finest places seem to have licorice ice cream, right?