BB&B Returns to Arizona

It was June. The birder's summer had officially begun. With my spring in Texas in the history books, it was time to make my way back to the west coast....where people ate burritos, and no one craved fajitas. Where you could get good coffee in a town smaller than Austin. Where Mexicans were not controversial. Where the governor was a typical old, wrinkly white guy and not some smug dumbass who lives on nothing but the blood of minority children and omelettes made out of Golden-cheeked Warbler eggs. After doing some birding with This Machine's crew (and seeing Black-capped Vireos, holy shit!), I left Nate's apartment and set out west through Hill Country. I barged all the way though to Las Cruces, spent the night, and by early the next afternoon I was back on familiar turf...cruising south down Highway 90, the Huachuca Mountains loomed ahead of me. Despite arriving in the middle of the day (which I do not recommend for <#7 birders), I had high expectations.

A few years ago I lived and worked in southeast Arizona for a spring doing point counts, with field sites from Sonoita Creek to Mt. Lemmon, from Carr Canyon to the Santa Cruz River. We had lodging in Ramsey Canyon and Florida Canyon, where a Ring-tailed Cat lived in our attic (I shit you not) and the only Rufous-capped Warbler in the country was just a short walk upstream. It was great birding (shocker), but despite my local residency and numerous other trips to the sky islands, I had yet to cross paths with a couple of specialties.

One of my few remaining nemesis birds in southeast Arizona was Mexican Spotted Owl. Although I did hear one in Carr Canyon one morning, I've had pathetic luck with them in Miller Canyon over the years. The Miller Canyon Spotted Owls are probably the most famous pair of their subspecies, frequently roosting within site of a trail and growing quite accustomed to people. They've been there for as long as I can remember. Since Miller Canyon gets covered very well by birders, people seem to constantly be keeping tabs on them. Well, that hasn't stopped me from walking by them countless times without ever seeing them. As you can see, this trip would be different.

Having been given the nest location by a few other birders, I had a very good idea of where to look this time. However, I hadn't even begun to start looking for the nest when I heard that wonderful sound...hoo......hoo-hoo.....HOOO. An adult was calling in the middle of the fucking day. Just ahead of me on the trail I heard another sound I hadn't heard in years.....cooooo-weep! As I walked ahead, toward the second bird, I could hear the begging calls of the owlets. I was close.

But before I got to the nest site, I was shocked to look up and see the adult that had been "coo-weeping" next to the trail. It was in full not-giving-a-fuck mode, leisurely preening, stretching and dozing. The owl hardly even looked at me. I got such a good look at the bird that I didn't even bother looking for the nest, which I knew was notoriously hard to see anyways. Eventually, I left the owl on the same perch that I found it and headed back down canyon. My heart was on the verge of bursting with joy.

Some of the coolest bird feet I've ever seen.

Located at the end of the road in Miller Canyon, the Beatty's place is one of the most legendary geri-birding sites in the U.S. It is the place to go for White-eared Hummingbird, arguably the most facemelting Trochilid that regularly ventures north of Mexico. They are very reliable in late spring and summer at the Beatty's, and despite the considerable time I've spent in southeast Arizona, I have yet to see one elsewhere. All you have to do to see one is wait, as they are not particularly shy and there is frequently more than one individual coming to the feeders.

Do you see? Pretty snaz.

I don't see White-eared Hummingbirds often, but when I do, I prefer to look up one of their nostrils.

Broad-tailed Hummingbird doesn't make it onto BB&B very often, so we will go ahead and address that right now. Those fine rows of spots on the throat (without a central patch) is quite distinctive on females, and you can just make out that particular shade of blue-green on the crown and nape that is a bit different from other Selasphorus.

A male Black-chinned Hummingbird with a gnarly bill deformity. He looks like he's doing ok though.

Of course, the Beatty's is a great place to see numbers of Magnificent Hummingbird also. Blue-throateds are around sometimes, but the Chiricahuas are your best bet for those beasts.

After I wrapped things up in Miller Canyon, it was time to fall even deeper into geri-birding mode and visit the Ash Canyon B&B, which is the best place in Arizona (and the U.S.?) for Lucifer Hummingbird. This Clark's Spiny Lizard was out strutting it's rather impressive stuff under a feeder, swelling up its body and flaring out it's blazing dewlap.

He was trying to intimidate a rival male...it was a tense standoff, and we humans were lucky we didn't get hurt. Clark's Spiny Lizards can be identified by their incomplete black collar and the barring on the forelimb.

Expect more Arizona coverage in another post. Good luck with your Monday.

Crippling Birding in the Talamancas: Paraiso del Quetzales

Fiery-throated Hummingbird. What is there to say about such a crippler? About such facemelt? I have nothing to add.

One of the benefits of planning a group trip is you pretty much get to decide where you bird. While I planned much of this trip on my own, there were certainly limitations which you are familiar with; time and money. Most of the places we stayed were relatively cheap for Costa Rica, but I decided to splurge and do a night at Paraiso del Quetzales in the Talamanca Mountains. Renowned as one of the better high-elevation birding sites with almost-guaranteed Resplendent Quetzals (a must-see bird, obviously) on the property, at about $75 per person for one night it was the most expensive lodging of the trip. That said, that includes access to fantastic birding opportunities, soul-fulfilling hummingbird views, dinner, breakfast, and a guided tour focusing on (but not at all limited to) tracking down quetzals. So while steep for a budget birder, the value cannot be argued. The cabinas are simple and clean, and the whole place has a pretty relaxed vibe...until you hit a mixed flock and the mierda hits the fan.

We arrived right before sunset and were completely blown away by the hummingbird show. We were in a daze. The birding only got better the next morning. We were there for less than 24 hours, but I'll have to split up the photographs into a couple different posts.




Green Violet-Ear is abundant at higher elevation sites in the Talamancas, one of the relatively few hummingbird species that seem equally common at feeding stations and in the field. Aside from their abundance, this might be attributed to the fact that they are a lekking species and are very loud singers.

And if you are wondering if they landed on my hand, yes. Yes they did.

Large-footed Finch was easy to find on the grounds here. They are not quite as brave as the hummingbirds and Yellow-thighed Finches, but it would be difficult to bird this spot for very long without picking up this handsome species.

Yellow-thighed Finches are so funny looking...completely dull aside from you know what. They even come to nectar feeders! Note the Fiery-thoated Hummingbird lurking in the background.

Ruddy Treerunners were in multiple mixed flocks we encountered here. I reckon they are to be expected. Yet another Costa Rican species that stumped me the first (and second, and third) time I saw them.

My lifer Yellow-winged Vireo!!! I was completely groggy and already in a daze of lifers-to-be when this bird popped up in front of me at dawn. Surprised I got any usable images.

When I look at this species, I think it belongs in the United States. It's got that economy of style thing going, kind of like a Solitary Vireo with broken spectacles. However, I don't think this bird will ever make it to the ABA Area...but I will mention that when I saw this bird I had not seen a new species of vireo in over ten years. Great success!

Magnificent Hummingbirds made a big impression on me at an early age. Shortly after I started birding, I went with my family to southeast Arizona. I did have an inkling of some of the fantastic birds there, but did not know what to expect at all, being hella young and being there in early spring. Magnificent Hummingbirds (which we ran into at Madera Canyon) made a huge impression on me. I could not get over their size, and the unfathomable colors they project in the right light. They still hold a special place in my heart.

Of course, there was the time I was working in Josephine Canyon (that's on the other side of the Santa Ritas, southeast of Madera) and came upon a cougar on the trail. The cat/potential Seagull Steve-slayer wandered off down the trail, unfortunately in the direction I had to go. As I followed the cougar very nervously and talking to myself very loudly to warn the cat I was coming, I suddenly heard a loud WHOOOOOSHHHHHUMMMMMMMM inches behind my head. It scared the fucking shit out of me. I whipped around in horror to find a male Magnificent Hummingbird hovering at eye level, which of course had come to investigate my red hat. How embarrassing.

Magnificent Hummingbird is actually the only hummingbird species expected in both Arizona and Costa Rica.

You can literally pet hummingbirds here. Facemelting ones. Here is a Fiery-throated expressing it's love of sugar water and hatred for rival hummingbirds.

Ochraceous Wren! Had to use the field guide for this one, total brainbird. In real life lighting, they are very richly colored, their name suits them much better than what you see here. Aside from the trails at El Paraiso, we also had them up the canyon from El Toucanet Lodge, which is a mid-elevation site to the northwest.

The cabina I stayed in. Make sure to make use of the extra blankets when you are there, it gets cold as fuck at night! And yes, I did hear Dusky Nightjar there.

How Do We Get To The World From Here?

I'd like to start things off by giving props to Brendan Kelly (of Slapstick/The Broadways/The Lawrence Arms/The Falcon fame) for giving the best breakdown on the ongoing Nerds vs Geeks vs Dorks debate that I have ever seen.  Being a birdwatcher automatically sticks you into one or all of those categories (and, questionably, even associating with them), so anyone reading this should be compelled to read the magnificent treatise right here.

In other news, I'm surrounded by cougars right now.  Not mountain lions, or even pumas, but attractive older women.   Packs of them rove Tucson at all hours of the day.  It's terrifying/fascinating.

I guess I get easily distracted these days.  I do have a cougar story of another kind.  On Tuesday morning I was trekking down Josephine Canyon (on the south side of the Santa Ritas), when I heard kind of a loud, piercing yelp.  Or maybe a wail.  Yelping wail?  Wailing yelp?  Yelping whale?  Whelp....

Right.  Anyways, I'd never heard anything like it.  At first I thought it was human.....Josephine Canyon is a superhighway for illegal immigrants, so it wouldn't be surprising.  Then it yelped again, and I thought it was some sort of trogon call that I'd never heard before (there were at least four in the canyon that morning).  Finally I figured out where the sound was coming from, and was surprised to see a mountain lion trotting down the trail, away from me.  I was pretty stoked, since Ive only seen one before, but quickly realized that I had to go the same way the lion went to finish my surveys.....

So down the trail I went, following the lion, talking VERY LOUDLY to it so I wouldn't take it by surprise.  Now I'm no stranger to dealing with weird shit going down in the woods, but this was my first time where I was hanging out with a lion without any physical barrier between us.  Oddly, I found myself talking in a Borat accent...."Hello lion! You are my friend!  You are very nice, I like......"

While yammering at the lion in this stupid accent, I suddenly heard a loud, bassy "WHOOOSH-HUMMMMMMMM" a foot from the back of my head, which scared the fucking shit out of me.

Turns out a Magnificent Hummingbird had flown in to admire the red jacket I was wearing.  All in a day's work.

Yeah, I really like Magnificents (magnificence?).  They are the second-biggest hummingbird in the U.S., and dwarf anything that we see back in California.  All these photos were taken at my feeders.  Word.