Category: Trip Reports (Page 25 of 32)

Birding Downeast Maine (2021)

Bobolinks Maine

Bobolinks on alert

Birds from a Week in Maine (2021)

Every July for most of the last 12 years, we’ve taken a vacation to Maine. My spouse’s relatives all live in the northeast, and we converge on a spot right near Acadia National Park. COVID prevented us going out there last year. But with all 4 of us fully vaccinated, we braved the emerging wave of Delta variant cases and flew across the country. 

Since this year’s trip to Maine was our first since 2019, it meant that I got to see a lot of East Coast birds for the first time in a long while. There were several Bald Eagles around, perched in trees, on snags, waiting for a dead fish to turn up. Winter Wrens could regularly be heard singing their impossibly long and winding songs. Black-capped Chickadees flitted about in small groups. And one of my favorite North American warblers, the Blackburnian Warbler, was a regular high up in the pines (alongside Black-throated Green Warblers).

The habitat where we stay is dominated by pine forest, but there are also big fields of wild grasses and flowers, and trails take you past some small creeks and a couple of ponds. Deciduous trees line the clearings. There isn’t a lot of low bush cover. As a result, there aren’t very many birds on the ground. Still, in my 10 week-long visits, all in the first half of July, I’ve managed to find 84 species.

The fields provide critical breeding habitat for the declining Bobolink. Bobolinks winter in the pampas grasslands of South America, and fly 6,000 miles to breed in the northern United States. It’s always great to see the sharp outfits of the males. The same fields occasionally produce American Woodcocks, but the encounters are unexpected and brief. I’ve only managed to get a single blurry photograph of one flying away from me.

 One thing you get in Maine that you we don’t deal with in Los Angeles is mosquitos. In some spots, you’ve got 5 seconds of standing still to get a bird in the binoculars before the maddening buzz begins. Both the Common Yellowthroat and Common Grackle above were doing their job to keep the population down. Question: would more mosquitos mean more birds? If so, would it be worth it?

Wherever you do find bushes, you’re likely to find a Gray Catbird or two (and a family of Song Sparrows). The catbirds are fairly loud and conspicuous, so getting a good shot of one isn’t that much of a problem. Hidden in this photo is the rusty-red undertail. The Hairy Woodpecker below was part of a 3-bird group that was moving through the forest very loudly. The White-throated Sparrow was quiet while I saw it, but you frequently hear their “oh-sweet-Canada” song from far off. Cool story: a new White-throated Sparrow song has emerged in the 21sy century and is spreading across the continent.

Since it is July, and spring starts late in Maine, there were baby birds all over. There was even an active nest above the back porch. I reached up with my phone to check if there were eggs, and found 5. Our presence unfortunately kept the parent Eastern Phoebes away from the nest most of the day, and I’m worried it won’t be successful.

Eastern Phoebe nest Maine

Eastern Phoebe nest above the porch

American Robin hatchling

American Robin hatchling playing possum

The forests were also full of the entrancing song of thrushes. By the end of the week I was able to distinguish unseen Hermit Thrushes from Swainson Thrushes. These photos show the visual difference between the two: the Hermit Thrush on the left has a grayer head, white eyering, and a redder tail. The Swainson’s Thrush on the right is buffier around the eye, and the back and tail more uniformly colored.

For the second time during a Maine visit, a few of us went on a boat ride out of Bar Harbor to the Gulf of Maine. The first trip a few years ago went to Petit Manan Island and targeted seeing Atlantic Puffins. This one was a straight-up whale watching trip. That meant that our big catamaran spent most of the time going 35 knots headed 40 miles off-shore. With overcast skies, some wind, and chop, that made bird-spotting quite challenging. Whale-wise, it was a great success. We found a Humpback Whale, and stayed with it for just over an hour.

Bird-wise, there wasn’t a ton of action. We didn’t come across any big flocks of pelagic birds. When we did see birds, the naturalists on-board weren’t much help. “There’s a few shearwaters at our 2 o’clock” and “the small birds bounding across the surface are storm-petrels” is better than nothing, I guess, but not much better. Is one a Cory Shearwater, by chance? Care to help me pick out a Leach’s Storm-Petrel from the Wilson Storm-Petrels? 

I did manage my only lifer of the trip to Maine on the boat: a pair of South Polar Skuas. These dark, pot-bellied birds were flying low over the water while we were speeding back to harbor. They had a small white patch at the end of the wings, somewhat like a nighthawk. I wasn’t sure what they were, and put “skua?” down in my notes. I fired off some shots, hoping they wouldn’t be too blurry. Back ashore, it was pretty clear that they were South Polar Skuas. They breed further south on Earth than almost any other bird and “winter” (our summer) in waters across the globe, including the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. They are aggressive bullies – chasing shearwaters and gulls and terns, forcing them to drop any food they catch. 

South Polar Skua Maine

South Polar Skua (lifer!) very far from the South Pole

The boat ride also produced some good looks at Great Shearwater, Northern Gannett, and Wilson’s Storm-Petrel. A couple of Razorbills flew over the bow, and a lone Atlantic Puffin cruised past. And we got a good show from the Humpback Whale. 

Great Shearwater Maine

Great Shearwater

Humpback whale Gulf of Maine

“Thar she blows!”

One last bird picture, of the boss of the chicken coop: El Guapo. He’s mean, he’s loud, and it’s a good thing there’s fencing between him and us. But god bless him for all his work, because there is nothing like fresh eggs in the morning.

Chicken Maine

El Guapo

I didn’t get to explore much during this trip outside of where we were staying. After our visit, we drove to Cape Ann in Massachusetts. A couple potential lifers were possible on the way. Upland Sandpipers had been seen outside Portland, Maine, but disappeared before we took the road. We stopped at Scarborough Marsh to try for Nelson’s Sparrow, but we didn’t get there until mid-day, and only had 30 minutes. Luck wasn’t on our side and I struck out. But I have no complaints. As always, it was a great trip.

10,000 Feet High in the Eastern Sierra

Koenig Lake Eastern Sierras California

Serenity at Koenig Lake

10,000 Feet High in the Eastern Sierra

We recently snuck in a weekend camping trip to the beautiful Eastern Sierra. It’s a long drive from West L.A. (and even longer when you’re driving in a caravan with families who need a stop every 90 minutes, and then sit down at the restaurant for lunch instead of eating sandwiches on the road). But like any trip to the great outdoors, the drive is usually worth it. Our specific destination was Leavitt Lake. It’s BLM land camping (no toilets), and getting there requires an actual 4×4 vehicle to negotiate the 3 mile dirt “road” to the lake. Indeed, we didn’t even take our AWD Highlander down the road because we weren’t convinced it would make it unscathed.

But we got there with the help of our slow-highway-driving-in-real-4×4-vehicle friends. The lake is at 10,000 feet elevation. Though we’re in the middle of extreme drought, and there’s virtually no snowpack in the Sierra this year, there were still patches of snow around and above the lake.  The best part of the weekend was an exploration walk that I took with my 14 year-old to find Koenig Lake (pictured above). We knew which direction it was from where we’d camped, and my son brought the necessary enthusiasm. It can be a little slow going at 10,000 feet when the path gets steep, but we found the little lake and were rewarded with jaw-dropping beauty.

Clark's Nutcracker Leavitt Lake

Clark’s Nutcrackers were all over the place

There was a small chance for some lifers around the lake. Gray-crowned Rosy-Finches are spotted sporadically in the area, though I wasn’t sure we were actually high enough to see them during June (we didn’t). Pine Grosbeaks can also be found in the Sierra, but we were probably too high to luck into one of them (we didn’t). Black-backed Woodpeckers move around the area, too, but there weren’t enough trees, much less recently burned trees, to see one of them (we didn’t). And we could’ve made a stop along the way to get Sagebrush Sparrow, but I wasn’t going to add to the family’s car time.

Still, there were some birds around. Clark’s Nutcrackers were the most numerous, and most vocal. Cassin’s Finches and Mountain Chickadee were regulars, too. On the walk up to Koenig Lake, my son and I saw two Golden Eagles soaring through the valley. The ravens spotted them, too, and harassed them away. While wandering around the area, I also found a male/female pair of Williamson’s Sapsuckers, which are always a high-elevation treat. 

Williamson's Sapsucker Leavitt Lake California

A female Williamson’s Sapsucker sneaks around the pine trees

There were also White-breasted Nutchatches, American Robins, a single White-crowned Sparrow, an unexpected Cliff Swallow, and a breeding-plumaged Yellow-rumped Warbler, among the other birds I identified around Leavitt Lake. 

 

On the drive home, we stopped at the Manzanar National Historic Site. Manzanar was one of the World War II internment camps where Japanese immigrants, and American citizens of Japanese heritage, were imprisoned. The population at Manzanar at its peak was 10,000 people. There aren’t any original buildings left, but they have reconstructed a couple of barracks and a mess hall. There’s a fantastic visitor center with a lot of stories and artifacts, and a big wall listing the names of the residents/prisoners. One of the parents on the camping trip has Japanese ancestry, and her grandfather was imprisoned during World War II in Hawaii. Growing up around only white folks, I never got to hear the kinds of stories my kids hear from our diverse collection of friends. 

Birds on Wire, Manzanar, Ansel Adams

Birds on Wire, Evening, Manzanar, by Ansel Adams

Perhaps the most impactful part of the visit was simply being there on a 97 degree day with the wind blowing 25 miles per hour. It almost kept us from stopping and strolling around for a few minutes, and we had an air-conditioned car and visitor center to relieve us from our suffering. The visitor center testifies to the amazing spirit of the imprisoned (even if it does distract you from the terrible big picture). If you ever get a chance, I highly recommend stopping at Manzanar.

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