The Salton Sea: Birding A Post-Nature Dystopia

I finally got to visit the place where this classic line was uttered..."No Matt, that's a fucking catbird." Last month I made my first winter visit to the Salton Sea in many years, the last time being when I had notoriously dipped on the Bean Goose for three (3) consecutive days. Luckily there was no such painful dipping to be endured, but then again there were no rare birds to dip on...which is why you are about to get slammed with a series of nonbird photos.

Caution is warranted at Barnacle's; nude swimming alone is not warranted.

Victory at last: SCAR and Dipper Dan celebrate seeing a large flock of Cedar Waxwings. Multitudes of Bombycillids inspire much posturing in nerds. Shortly after this photo was taken, SCAR and DD began trespassing into various yards with reckless abandon, bragging about waxwing observations and trying to pick fights with locals. Can there be such a thing as too many waxwings?

Paul E. Lehman courageously leads the charge of his nerd platoon. They were looking at a Varied Thrush, which is the rarest bird we had at the Salton Sea that weekend.

Some people go to the Salton Sea to crush birds; other people go to the Salton Sea to crush dead fish.

There seems to be a disturbing amount of art popping up along the southeastern shore of the Salton Sea. That looks like an old heron nest that has been redecorated. What does it all mean? And why does looking at it give me so many feelings?

Oh, but what is the bird directly in front of the art? It is a Lesser Black-backed Gull, a sort of rare bird (we saw 4 that day). This image is profound, and larophiles and art critics alike are already saying that it will change everything. We may be on our way to birding a post-nature dystopia, but goddammit it's going to look fucking meaningful.

For the Christmas Count, Dipper Dan and I were assigned the Imperial Irrigation District wetlands in Niland. We were specifically supposed to find Least Bitterns, which we utterly failed to do. It was embarrassing, but we birded the shit out of those ponds. There was no shortage of Yuma Ridgway's Rails though, and this one was not afraid to feed just a few feet from the car.

Hella confiding...Ridgway's can be quite brave compared to many of their cousins, perhaps in part due to their size.  Back when I was not #7, I used to wonder about how I would tell Clapper and Virginia Rails apart. It seemed like it might be difficult (give me a break, I wasn't born #7).  Plumage characters aside, Clapper/Ridgway's/King Rails are all enormous in comparison; these big rails are closer to coots in size than Virginia Rails.

We had a few Vermilion Flycatchers on Pound Road, at one of the duck clubs. As with the past several winters, there wasn't much around in terms of rarities, but we did ok...American Redstarts, Yellow Warbler, Yellow-footed and Thayer's Gulls, and Horned Grebe were all decent birds. The water level of the sea looked as low and sad as ever...it's still good birding, but it's not what it used to be. Bummer.

We made a quick stop in San Dimas on the way down, to try to find the wintering Tango Bravo Kilo India. I'm still working on getting a decent White-throated Sparrow shot...I have a long way to go. This brightly-marked bird was at Horsethief Canyon Park; we also heard the Thick-billed Kingbird here, calling from the suburbs west of the park.

Salton Birdscapes

From left to right: Semipalmated Sandpiper, Western Sandpiper, Wilson's Phalarope. The sandpipers would frequently fight over a desired piece of mudflat, while the phalarope would referee.

When discussing birding the Salton Sea with nonlocal birders, a common response is wide eyes, a slack jaw, and incoherent jabber about bird-related jealousy. This routine typically winds up with "I've been meaning to go there for years now" or "I would kill 6 infant children with a hammer for the opportunity to bird the Salton Sea".

The fact is that you don't need to be a high-ranking power-birder, or murderer, to get access to the sea. It's right there, waiting to be birded. But with (generally) retreating water levels and ongoing salinity increases, its unclear how long it will remain the hotspot that it is. What are you waiting for?

Aside from the quality of birds there and high vagrant potential, the sheer numbers of birds there is a spectacle in and of itself, which I guess will serve as a loose theme for today's photos.

American White Pelicans. Lots of them. Photographed at the west end of Bowles Road.

Yellow-footed Gulls and Snowy Egrets. Interestingly, the bird on the right is much smaller-billed in comparison to the others...I'm not sure what to make of that. South end of the Salton Sea.

Tens of thousands of birds. West end of Bowles Road.

Staggering numbers...the mind reels. Bowles Road.

A Stilt Sandpiper shuns its comparatively abundant dowitcher bretheren. The Salton Sea is the best place on the Pacific Flyway (at least, in the Lower 48) to find this species in numbers. Bowles Road.

The sea is saturated with Black-necked Stilts. Wister Unit of Sonny Bono Salton Sea NWR.

American White Pelicans and Snowy Egrets. West end of Young Road.

This is a classic Imperial Valley scene. White-faced Ibis, alfalfa fields, geothermal power plant, bleak martian landscape in the distance.

This Black Tern formation looked like they were trying to tell me something. Stay positive? Photographed from the north end of Garst Road.

Black Terns and assorted shorebirds litter the mudflats. North end of Garst Road.

A big group of Gull-billed Terns. Look carefully and you may be able to pick out some Stilt Sandpipers in with the dowitchers. In fact, you are not allowed to look away from this photo until you do. West end of Bowles Road.

Not a good picture, but the cormorant on the right is a Neotropic Cormorant, one of 2 that I oogled  and ogled that day. This olivaceous shag is a very rare bird in California, but the Imperial Valley is a great place to look for them. South end of the Salton Sea.

Skimming

Every bird photographer out there dreams of getting a proper Black Skimmer shot. But not just a Black Skimmer; a skimmer skimming. Preferably with calm water and a mirror-like reflection of the bird. I can now say I have joined the ranks of these people. The company is mixed, to say the least.

Many of the skimmers at the Salton Sea (where all of these pictures were taken) have skimmer bling.

Just before sunset, the skimmers were bathed in a warm, facemelting light.

Crippling views.

This is not a case of When Skimming Goes Wrong. This bird was flying along and would periodically just stop, plop down and dunk its bottom half into the water. Skimmerbath.

The moment of truth: a skimmer's neck snaps back as it's bill makes contact and clamps shut.

What a weird bird.

I wonder what the ancestor of a skimmer (a proto-skimmer) looked like. That would be an awesome fossil to find.

That's it for now. I'm still high on the Great Crested Flycatcher. See you soon.

The Owls Are Not What They Seem...A Disgusting Return To Form...Storkspeed

A Burrowing Owl lets loose a withering hate look, with the aid of a bonus eyelid. No one could feel good about themselves after being the subject of such ancient scorn. Photographed near Finney Lake, CA.

As you know, it is not easy to be the Number 7 birder of the United States. Certain things are expected of me. The Global Birder Ranking System, while shrouded in mystery and intrigue, is also very demanding. For one, I am expected to identify birds accurately over 99% of the time, with some leeway allowed for misidentification (perish the thought!) outside of the ABA Area. Of course, it is my duty to educate the masses on how to properly look at a bird, and to help them improve their impoverished identification skills. I am also expected to bird like a Number 7 should bird...which is a lot, and in the right times and the right places. To fulfill this latter obligation, I find myself preparing, yet again, for a steamy Salton Sea trip this weekend...which is where I will be when you read this.

The vanity of a Burrowing Owl is not to be underestimated. Look at those beautiful owl-whiskers.

I'm glad I was able to get a foot-freezing shot. If you are someone who likes bristly legs (not that there's anything wrong with that)....then owls are for you.

My previous Salton Sea trip was a complete success, so it will be hard to improve on getting a state bird (Neotropic Cormorant) and whole flocks of year birds, which I did last month. Of course, as Number 7...I will endeavor to do so.

August is almost done, and with that, another field season is drawing to a close. Next week is my last week as an inhabitant of the Whale's Vagina...the urge to migrate overwhelms. BB&B will once again hit the road for points north...bay area birders surely dread my disgusting return, but there is nothing they can do to stop me.

Left to right: Northern Shoveler, Snowy Egret, WOOD STORK, Great Egret. Look how hefty the stork is compared to the comparatively bulemic Great Egret, which normally passes as a large bird. Photographed from Schrimpf Road at the south end of the Salton Sea, CA.

What a weird bird. FACT: Wood Storks feed by running their open bills through the water, and clamping down on a prey item as soon as they make contact with it. The reflex of the bill closing on prey is the fastest known reflex of any vertebrate in the world. Can you believe that? Pretty fucking awesome if you ask me.

Black Skimmers also feed by simply by trolling for prey; this is a lot more fun than watching storks do the same thing, but apparently they are not up to stork speed. Photographed at the end of MacDonald Road at the south end of the Salton Sea, CA.

A juvenile Snowy Plover. What excellent posture. Poe Road, Salton Sea, CA.

Shade is in high demand along the edges of the Salton Sea, even by species (such as Osprey) who normally shun it. I once found a Wandering Tattler (a quality bird there) quivering in the shade of a flimsy piece of dead brush out on some salt flats...which makes sense if you are an ocean-loving bird, confronted with 125 degree heat and a far more putrid habitat than what you may be used to. South end of the Salton Sea, CA.

Cathartic California Birding: The Yellow-footed Gull

This bird requires all serious ABA birders to come to the Salton Sea at least once in their lives.

Lets face it...the best state/province to find gulls on the continent has to be California. There, I said it. Sorry to all you other landfill lurkers out there, but we are the best. Out of the 30 species of gulls recorded in the ABA Area, only Gray-hooded, Great Black-backed, Kelp and Yellow-legged have not been found in CA...and we all know Great Black-backed is just a matter of time. That means we have enjoyed species like Black-tailed Gull, Ivory Gull, Ross' Gull, Red-legged Kittiwake, Swallow-tailed Gull (!!!) and Belcher's Gull...the latter being the only one (and fortunately, one of the rarest) of these to grace my California list.

Being a relatively short distance from Mexico's Gulf of California (as the frigatebird flys), California boasts an endemic gull...not biologically speaking, but if you think in terms of being an ABA lister, Yellow-footed Gull is essentially only found in California. Yellow-footed Gulls are regularly found at the Salton Sea, most abundantly in summer and early fall. Despite many gull populations increasing, the Salton Sea remains the one and only place north of Mexico where you can reliably find this bird. If you dip on this bird at the sea (a dismal possibility for much of the year) and aren't obsessed with seeing one in the U.S., they are easy to get a few hours south of the border in places like San Felipe and Puerto Penasco (the latter town is pretty good birding in general), but most birders have gotten their lifer Yellow-foots at the Salton Sea.

This is a pretty typical looking YFGU. Similar to a Western Gull until you notice its feet (unless you are really colorblind, sorry).

Some of the best spots to find these coveted birds are at the end of Poe Road, near Red Hill, Obsidian Butte, and anywhere along the shore of the Salton Sea between the butte south to Young Road.

Another angle. Look at that massive bill. It's just a mean-looking bird, especially these pale-eyed individuals. Some YFGUs appear to have an especially orange cast to their bill and leg color, making them really glow.

Second-cycle (left) and first-cycle (right) Yellow-footed Gulls. Note the change in leg color as they age. Second-cycle YFGUs can retain pinkish legs though, which probably accounts for the number of Western Gull reports in the spring and summer at the Salton Sea. The majority of "real" WEGUs at the sea are typically found later in fall and winter.

Second-cycle Yellow-footed. This bird isn't very big-billed compared to some YFGUs, but note the yellowing legs and feet. The only Western Gulls that get yellowish feet (which is pretty uncommon) are spring adults, not young birds like this. The majority of WEGUs also have dark eyes. Howell and Dunn variously describe the standard Yellow-footed Gull bill as being "stout and bulbous-tipped" and the Western Gull bill as "stout, bulbous-tipped", so that should make things easy for you.

As shameful as it is to say, I'm sure more than a few larophobic birders have looked at a California Gull (abundant at the sea) and walked away feeling pretty happy that they saw the much-vaunted Yellow-footed Gull. Simply remembering that YFGUs are massive birds and that they don't form enormous flocks at the sea (well, not anymore) will help keep you in check. Here is a YFGU with a Ring-billed Gull for size comparison.

Not sure if this is a 3rd-cycle or adult bird...Howell and Dunn suggest that adults are always tattered and crappy looking. Sounds kind of racist to me, considering this is a Mexican endemic. Hey-oh!!! All photos in this post were taken along the southeastern shore of the Salton Sea.

Secret Boobies...The Gull Jedi Speaks...The Reluctant Bank Swallow

The view from the end of McDonald Rd., along the southeastern shore of the Salton Sea. Millet Island hides secret boobies in the distance. Not too long ago you could drive to the end of practically any road west of Davis Rd. and find crippling flocks like this....now everything seems overgrown with tamarisk and the sea has retreated. Life is pain. SoCal birders, do you know if the west ends of any of those roads (i.e. Pound, Hazard, Noffsinger, etc) are still good birding?

The end of July...time to take stock, and to prepare for the onslaught of fall. Now is the time to start reserving your spots for fall pelagics...here in California, it has been a poor year for rarities, unless you were lucky enough to be on one of the increasingly popular "repositioning cruises", which are becoming en vogue with the region's power-birders. I just reserved a spot on a Monterey Bay boat in September....fingers are crossed for facemelt...

Speaking of pelagics...at least in a roundabout way...be sure to check out Steve Howell's post over at the ABA Blog, where he talks a lot of shit about you and me and then somehow changes the subject to just showcasing his crippling photographs of flying fish. I don't know how he managed to combine these 2 disparate subjects...clearly he possesses some kind of blogger magic. If you don't know who Steve is, he ranks high on the Global Birding Ranking Scale, is really good at birding in Mexico, and is a Gull Jedi. He also is one of the few people who thinks Kumlien's Gull is its own species, which many others find embarrassing.

Aside from a few photos, most of my last few birding outings have been pretty lame in terms of photographic spoils or straight up rarities, with the exception of getting my 2012 Black-vented Shearwaters from a seawatch in La Jolla. People have been going nuts out there lately over a Pigeon Guillemot or two out there, which I find amusing for some reason. Anyways, I will continue to hammer you with Salton Sea pictures because that's what I think is best.

Black Skimmers were abundant and easy to see around Morton Bay. Whenever I see them recently I find myself looking at their strange overall shape and flight style, not just the humungo and freakishly disproportional bill.

Great Egrets are hot. Photographed west of Young Road.

I found a couple massive flocks of migrant swallows while I was there. I chose the perfect spot to look for Bank Swallow, a bird I hadn't seen yet in 2012. This one, along the Alamo River near Red Hill, did not look like it was enjoying its stay in the Imperial Valley.

See? It's about to keel over and die. These filthy young Cliff Swallows don't seem to be helping the situation at all.

Wood Stork is one of the Salton Sea's top tier specialty birds. The only way to see this bird west of Texas (north of Mexico, that is) is to come the Salton Sea in summer and sweat yourself to death. These birds, part of a bigger flock, has been dependable at Morton Bay for the last month.

Loggerhead Shrike. Crap lighting, but I like the picture. Look how haggard it is! Who knows how many songbirds it has slayed in its lifespan?

Laughing and California Gulls. So common on the Atlantic Coast that they make birders sick, Laughing Gulls are rare birds out west...except at the Sea of Salton. Did you notice that hideous, small headed mutant on the left?

Small gull. Big mouth.

Unlike the summer-only Laughing Gulls and Wood Storks, thousands of Burrowing Owls inhabit the Imperial Valley year-round. Photographed on Garst Road.