Y2K14: Fall Of The Nemeses

Xantus's Hummingbird was one of my first life birds of 2014. Hopefully we will get another one in California someday, but without the drama and dissolving of friendships that the British Columbia bird caused. Todos Santos, MX. 

Birders...I write you on New Year's Eve, just hours before 2014 is shat into temporal oblivion and 2015 hits us on our collective head like a giant ACME brand anvil. This NYE is guaranteed to be the worst in years...tonight there will no bourbon. No bastards. No birds. I have contracted a nasty strain of sickness from Tennessee a few days ago, and I am forced to lay low. There will be no glory for me tonight, nor revelry nor merriment...there will be only NyQuil.  Forecasts of debauchery have been cast aside, and replaced with forecasts of boredom, mediocrity, and FOMO. That said, tomorrow is a new year list! Hopefully by foregoing any raging tonight I will feel like a human being in the next day or two, and the birding (and compensatory raging) can commence.

Those of you familiar with the Birdosphere know what happens at the end of every year...the dreaded yet inevitable year in review. Since I am too wracked with illness to do any actual birding or do anything else fun, I'm going to push this post out today. Hopefully it will make a good read, and we will see you again soon.


Pinkest Lifers of the Year Y2K14: On my way to Texas last March, I made a small but very important detour in New Mexico to get a couple long-awaited lifer Rosy-finches, Brown-capped (above) and Black. Thank the bird gods this place exists. Sandia Crest Lodge, NM.

Best Birding of the Year Y2K14: Not really a shocker here...the award goes to spring in South Texas. Are the birding spots crowded? Yes. Are you surrounded by Geri? Always. Are you required to elbow rabid photogs in the ribs? Constantly.  Is there an abundance of facemelt? And you know this. The mix of "valley specialties" combined with huge numbers of migrating passerines and waterbirds (which you can often watch arrive off the Gulf, while you are birding) make for high quality birding. Hooded Warbler, South Padre Island, TX.

Most Embarrassing Nemesis Defeated Y2K14: Until this year, Eastern Screech-Owl was the most widespread and abundant U.S. bird that I needed to see. It was embarrassing, I will be the first one to admit it. I had heard them and even seen one (horribly), but had not actually had a look at one that warranted counting. That all changed in Texas this spring. Estero Llano Grande State Park, TX.

Most Nemesis Nemesis Defeated Y2K14: Cerulean Warbler was the bird I really wanted to see in Texas...or anywhere, to be honest. This is another bird that has languished on my heard-only list for many years, and I have been dying to see one for as long as I can remember. I obsessively visited South Padre Island day after bloody day in hopes of tracking one down, and was finally rewarded with a male and a female on the same day in late April. It was a memorable experience...does this ring a bell?: "Don't hurt me", he said in a feeble whimper. "I just want to see Indigo Buntings".

Texas birding was very eventful, even without any fallouts. Thanks to Nate McGowan and Tiffany Kersten for showing me around, getting me on birds, helping me drink, etc.

Crappiest Looks at a Life Bird Y2K14: Golden-cheeked Warbler
Most Crucial Inner Circle Life Bird Y2K14: Black-capped Vireo
Weirdest Life Bird Y2K14: Chuck-will's-widow
Best Heard Only Bird Y2K14: Crimson-collared Grosbeak
State With The Most Annoying Photographers Y2K14: Texas

Most Range-Restricted Nemesis Y2K14: I have spent hella time birding in southeast Arizona. I even spent a whole spring doing fieldwork there. I have heard countless Whiskered Screech-Owls...but could never see one. After years of waiting, I finally put this bird to bed (well, it was already asleep) when I saw one of the adults that would spend its days roosting in a nest cavity in Madera Canyon, across from Kubo. As nice as it was to meet this species, this was not the first life bird "Slick" would muster that day.

Weirdest Vague Runt Y2K14: After returning to the bay area from the southwest, there was some work to be done...someone from the Inner Circle had finally leaked the location of the nesting Common Black-Hawk in Sonoma County. Many Bothans died to bring us this information.  This absurdly rare bird has not only been living here for years, it has actually been nesting...with a Red-shouldered Hawk. I got to see the whole family...the hybrid offspring was truly bizarre, I would love to see it as an adult someday. Photographed at Super Secret Inner Circle Location, Sonoma County, CA. Don't check eBird or anything.

Best CA Bird Y2K14: Rustic Bunting. You all know about this bird. I don't have photos (maybe next year?), I'm just stoked that I actually saw it. The birding gods have truly smiled on me in order to keep this bird in Golden Gate Park for almost two weeks. I left the bay area the day the bird had originally been found...I almost quit birding, but luckily the bird decided to winter here. So I'm still birding.

Worst Dip Y2K14: I guess I'll give this award to San Francisco's Sulphur-bellied Flycatcher, but 100% of the birders who chased it were met only with failure, so I don't feel that bad. However, the Brambling wintering in Arcata is causing significant mental anguish...that bird showed up the day after I was last in Arcata, and it is still taunting me.

Nerdiest Birder Gathering Y2K14: This Machine Nate, Flycatcher Jen, The Laurence and Seagull Steve, all aboard the same pelagic trip. It was an unholy union of bird bloggers, and I still feel the residual shame.

Most Awkward Birding Event Y2K14: In response to mentioning some distant Swainson's Hawks, a man at a Harlingen, TX, birding site told me, "there's something else I'd like to get a closer look at", and then offered to orally pleasure me. He was really persistent about it too, talking about how skilled he was, and eventually threw his hands in the air (seriously) and gave me the "your loss" look when I kept turning him down. So if you're a dude and you're into that sort of thing, go bird Hugh Ramsey Nature Park. If your'e not into that sort of thing, don't make eye contact with anyone who isn't wearing binoculars.

Vague Runt of the Year Y2K14: Salvin's Albatross. Aside from the sheer rarity of this very majestic bird, the incredible amount of luck that went into seeing it is still difficult for me to wrap my mind around. Half Moon Bay, CA.

Hoped-for Lifer of the Year Y2K14: This is a weird category...but so what? Birding is weird. Anyways, the winner of this category is Guadalupe Murrelet. The water was very, very warm off central and northern California this year, which led to very different (and generally less birdy) conditions than the ones we encountered in 2013. That said, the warm water brought me life Craveri's and Guadalupe Murrelets, which is exactly what I asked Santa for when rumors of El Nino abounded last summer. Photographed off Bodega Bay, CA.

Honorable Crush Y2K14: Eurasian Wigeon. Eurasian Wigeons are not particularly rare here, but I have never crushed one so hard before. Photographed in Thousand Oaks, CA.

Strangest Birding Event of Y2K14: The Murrelet Incident. The murrelet continues to have believers, by the way...the Incident may yet still be unfolding.

Most Popular BB&B Post of Y2K14: Swallowgate.

Best New Birding Blog of Y2K14: The Birder's Conundrum.


Comeback Birding Blog of Y2K14: Reservoir Cats.

Honorable Vague Runt Y2K14: LeConte's Sparrow. Why hello LeConte's Sparrow! You are so brightly colored and enthusiastic...you must possess a real Positive Mental Attitude. Thank you for being so brave and confiding, unlike every other member of your species I have ever seen. Abbott's Lagoon, Marin County, CA.

Fiending for Rosy-Finches at Sandia Crest

Behold, the Brown-capped Rosy-Finch. This is a bird of life. I made a space for it inside my soul. There aren't enough pink birds out there.

The time had come...the Perpetual Weekend was shuttered and it was back to join the workforce...of the Lower Rio Grande Valley. I had only one planned stop between Oakland and Harlingen...the legendary Sandia Crest, which towers above Albuquerque. The lodge there is notorious among birders for being the best and easiest place to see Brown-capped and Black Rosy-Finch anywhere, since these range-restricted birds of the ultramontane come to feeders there. Both of these birds would be LIFERS, and you know how I feel about that. Every day I checked eBird for rosy-finch reports and the outlook did not look good...there had been no reports of any rosy-finch in over a week by the time I arrived...was I too late? Did I blow it?

I don't even know what to say about these birds. Living strictly at absurdly high elevations, they probably don't even see people when they aren't at the lodge. As I had many hours to cover that day, it was hard to let go of this epic bird I had just met. I saw about 4 Brown-caps that day. 

Fueled by a greasy breakfast from my beloved Waffle House (why are there not more Waffle Houses?), I made my way up the mountain and made it to Sandia Crest without incident. There was a thick layer of snow, the cold was biting and the wind was ripping. The lodge was not open yet so I stood awkwardly by the fence on the south side, hoping some birds would happen. A Golden Eagle cruised overhead, and eventually other birds began appearing. After enduring a few minutes of Gray-headed Juncos and Mountain Chickadees, 25+ rosy-finches fell out of the sky (I hate that phrase, although it seems to turn some birders on) and swooped around the corner, allowing no view whatsoever. But where before there only lay a faint hope, adrenaline raced through my veins and I could hear myself jabbering like the bird junkie I am. The world grew brighter, then foggy at the edges...I could feel my pupils dilating as I stared anxiously around the corner, hoping the flock would pop into view. Finally a few finches flew in and landed behind me, and I was able to doublelifer both species in the same binocular view.

Black Rosy-Finch is a crippler. Pink on black is a completely winning combination.

But they disappeared quickly. I climbed the ice-laden staircases and went around to the other side of the lodge to see what was up there, and I violently shit my pants (well, almost) when I turned a corner and a huge pile of Rosy-Finches sat on the snow just 20 feet away. Fuuuuuuuuuck! Although it was dark and horrible out I got the looks I wanted, and then again later after the lodge opened. Apparently this flock had been seen daily for a number of days in a row, but none of the birders writing in the handy rosy-finch log at the lodge had bothered to eBird them or post to the listserv.

When I first found the main flock of rosy-finches, I was astonished to be looking at Black Rosy-Finch after Black Rosy-Finch...there were no Gray-crowned. This was not the ratio I expected, but one that I can't complain about.

It was fun looking at the variety of Black Rosy-Finches present...there were a lot of young birds and adults in various stages of molt. This may have been the winner of the beauty contest.

Brown-capped and Black Rosy-Finches. In a chair. Why not?

The most abundant bird at Sandia Crest was the Gray-headed race of Dark-eyed Junco (there was a token Oregon-type present also). I can't believe such puny birds can thrive in such conditions.

Something about these birds just make them seem more savvy than Oregon Juncos...a better application of the Economy of Style perhaps?

Unlike other U.S. nuthatches, there are a number of White-breasted Nuthatch subspecies. This is one of the interior west subspecies, which sound noticeably different than the west coast birds that I am used to. As you probably know, the money is on these birds getting split at some point in the future. I was surprised to see White-breasted Nuthatch at Sandia Crest at all, since the site is well above 10,000 feet...don't know if I've seen the species that high in California.

I'm not used to these fancy Steller's Jays either. Meet macrolopha, the only subspecies found in New Mexico. The birds in California lack the alluring eye arcs.

Nerds may remember a proposal to split Mountain Chickadees a few years ago. This is gambeli, yet another montane resident that is a different subspecies than California's baileyae. This is also my best Mountain Chickadee photo to date...not bad for shooting through a sliding glass door (most of these shots were through that door as well).

While sipping coffee in the lodge waiting for the finches to return, this son of a bitch appeared out of nowhere. I am not a creature of rodents, but I think this is a Kaibab Squirrel, one of the subspecies of Abert's Squirrel. Yes? UPDATE!!! It's not a Kaibab, it's a Merriam's Squirrel, Sciurus alberti mimus (Thanks David). I told you I'm not literate in rodents. 

For those who have difficulty with the notorious Mountain Chickadee vs. Abert's Squirrel ID problem, here is a comparison photo. Experts have suggested the putative squirrel is actually a F2 MOCH X ABSQ hybrid, but considering the unusual state of molt the jury is still out.